You're The Inspiration | NaBloPoMo day 21

So, you all may or may not know I am currently trying my hand at writing. I am in the process of writing one book and also mentally developing a second one.  So occasionally my mental development hits inspiration and I have to spew the words out before they either 1) drive me insane, or 2) disappear, leaving me frustrated and extremely sad that the moment of pure, raw emotion was forever lost. 


The following is a piece that I wrote back in July when the words swirled around in my head to the point that I had to either write them down or check myself into the loony bin. They were that strong and that powerful and controlling.  So, I put this in one of my other blogs back then, and I tonight it just felt right to bring it here...

When you are young you are full of emotion and instinct. There isn't much control of either and when emotions are high (which they always are) you react on instinct more than logic.  It is a magical and confusing and heart breaking time, and unfortunately, more big decisions about life are made in that time that shape who you are than in any other time of life. Make one wrong choice and you can send yourself hurling down a path that you may not want 5, 10 or 15 years from then. And by the time you are an adult it is too late to go back and change your path, and you are committed to too much to not risk everything you love to make the change.

When we are young, we live in the moment. We don't think about the future in more than a big cloud in the sky sort of way. We don't yet know the details, the day to day challenges and the little things that add up to big joy and big frustration.  We don't yet realize how small choices can lead to big life factors; how the "big" decisions really aren't that important and how the time that we have is so unique and special, when we are young. Living in the moment is so exciting and dramatic, and when you are in your teens drama is a way of life. We feel, we experience everything as if it were the first time (and it often is) and our senses are heightened and electric with impulse and fire. We challenge. We challenge authority, we challenge ideas and we challenge...everything.

When I was a teen, I often challenged the weather. My moods and feelings were altered and were reflected in the sun, the wind and the storms. I soaked up the peace that the warm sun would bring. I would sit on top of my parent's van at night and watch the stars and follow the moon. I wished on falling stars, I talked to the sky.  Storms brought passion and love and sadness. They manipulated events and feelings, the held promises of a future that I never got to see.  I loved the weather and I thought it held power. I would stand in the wind and stare it down as if I could control it. I pleaded with the wind and the thunder and the stars to send me signs and answers to my troubles. And somewhere between then and now, I stopped listening and I stopped challenging. Now, thunder and wind sends me running for shelter and makes me worry for my children. I don't want to get wet in the rain and I certainly don't like driving in it or dealing with the mud the dog tracks in the house afterward. Storms lost their passion and their beauty and became little more than a nusiance.

I have been dealing with some things. Stress and emotions that I can't control any longer have forced me into a time of much reflection and deep thought.  And suddenly I am looking to the outdoors and the solace of the quiet that it can sometimes provide; that quiet away from the distractions of electronics and children and things that make noise allows me to ponder the things that trouble me, or quiet my head for a moment of peace. I enjoy being in my garden, sometimes with music in my ears, sometimes not, and just letting my mind run where it wants to. I enjoy that time of living in the moment and letting raw feelings take over.

A couple of weeks ago I was in my garden and as I was finishing up my tasks a storm began to blow in. Normally I would have hurried into the house but for once, I felt I needed to stay. The wind kicked up and the sky turned pink and I stood there in the middle of my yard, face into the wind. I challenged it to blow on me, to knock me over. And as my hair whipped around my head and my eyes filled with tears from the debris blowing in and the emotion I was feeling, I felt my spirit awaken with an energy I haven't felt in many years.

When I come home late at night now, I pause for a moment to look at the sky. And that child in me is still there, pleading to the stars for answers. I have no more power now to interpret them than I did then, and I feel my heart breaking in the silence just the same as before. And yet I linger, thinking one more moment, one more glance to the heavens will be enough.

Until,
D :)

From Where You Are

Today is one of my high school friend's birthday. I don't get to see her much anymore - she lives across the country and so we don't find ourselves in the same place too often, but I do miss her as I miss a lot of my friends from high school.  Because of the goodness that is Facebook, I am able to keep in touch with a lot of people I wouldn't normally. I love that part of it. I feel like even though we are scattered everywhere, we are still somewhat close, even if it is only through electronic media.

Anyway, my friend, as I was reminded today, had a birthday party 20 years ago that I attended. 20 years - it seems like an incredibly long time when I say it, but it still feels like yesterday sometimes. So she had this birthday party, it was the summer before our senior year, and it was an amazing night. The party was co-ed (sorry Mom and Dad) and a sleepover, but I honestly didn't know it was co-ed until I got there. (I promise!) I don't remember much about the party except for a few things - my friend's mom did a belly dance - which was so cool! I had no idea Mrs. K did that. I remember not sleeping - we all pretty much stayed up all night. The one thing I do remember though, a bunch of us walked the neighborhood most of the night. Sometimes it was a large group, sometimes just 2 or 3 of us, but we must have trekked miles and miles going up and down the streets.

The things that were said on those walks that changed my life. The conversations, the revelations - it changed me forever. I fell in love for the first time that night, and in the process my tender heart took on a new rhythm.

And here I am 20 years later thinking of that night, while I sit on a Starbucks' patio, miles from where it all began.  And I wonder where the next 20 years will lead me.

Do you know where you were 20 years ago? Can you pinpoint a day like that? It is weird to me that I can, and that it is still so very clear in my mind.

But then, epic nights like that usually are.

Thanks, L, for having that party. I am grateful for the memories.

D :)

Linger

Oh HI!!!!!

You know, back in April when I said "see you in June" I wasn't really serious about it. Honestly - I thought I would take a week or two break, and then be right back on it. But, like I mentioned, things have been crazy busy and this month is no exception.  Since I last posted we've had more of our share of all the fun stuff - sickness, more ear infections (yes, that is plural), doctor's visits, walking out on doctor's visits, Kindergarten graduation, weird happenings, funny stories and the like. I could have blogged for days, but I was too busy living it to write about it. Maybe someday I can get some pics in shape to put on here and tell you some of the stories, but for now a brief recap will have to do.

The last week in May I shot a double header wedding weekend with Allen; working about 9+ hours on Friday night (getting home after 2am) and then 12 hours on Saturday after only about 5 hours of sleep. The experience was made even crazier because on Sunday we loaded up the family and drove to Houston so I could shoot a newborn session that Monday morning. And the best part was, my back went out Sunday morning. Like, way, way out. I was miserable. But, praise God for ibuprofen because if it hadn't been for the mega doses I was taking every 4 hours I wouldn't have been able to move for days.

My back was out all that week and actually got worse mid week before it started getting better, but I was back at it again with another wedding that Saturday in San Antonio. Thankfully, my sweet friend, Jen, was able to come along too and help me out - she was so awesome about carrying all my gear and making sure I was ok for the long day. The 3 of us (Allen, Jen and myself) make a great team. I love working with them both!

The next weekend, Hubby and I dropped the kids off with the inlaws and took a little 4 day trip of our own for our 12th anniversary.  We drove up to the panhandle and traveled along the Texas portion of Route 66.  It was a fun trip; I will talk about it more later when I get some good pics edited. And this coming weekend, I will once again be traveling out of town for another wedding. It will be good to see some old friends and to be working and doing what I love.

ANYWAY - the reason I am posting today is because 1) I have been thinking about the blog a lot and trying desperately to get back here and post, 2) I have a ton of stuff I should be doing so this is a GREAT distraction and 3) I am feeling nostalgic today (thank you hormones - you ROCK. not) and thought I would share a bit o' history with you. (the following bad photos are courtesy of my iphone)

It all started this morning when I pulled an old t-shirt out of the closet. I haven't worn the thing in years (like about 15 years!), but somehow it has worked it's way to the top of the "old t-shirt" stack in my closet.

I put it on and loved the softness and the roominess it has. Waaaay back in the 90's, we wore boxy t-shirts that were about 10 sizes too big. ;) This particular shirt was a souvenir from the Texas A&M Boot Dance of 1994.

But Dawn, you didn't go to A&M, how did you end up at the boot dance??

Oh my sweet curious friends, let me tell you. :) The A&M Boot Dance is like a college version of the Junior Prom. And according to numerous sources,  "Each year Boot Dance is held for the Junior Class. Although the name reflects the Senior Boots the Juniors in the Corps of Cadets will have the privilege to wear starting at Final Review, this dance is designed for all Juniors at Texas A&M, including those who are "non-reg" (not in the Corps)" So, one of my best friends was in the Corps and he invited me to the dance. It was such an honor and so much fun. I didn't have the money for a dress as I was a poor college student myself, so I had my mom make a dress for me.

And here is where I need to tell you (though I am sure if you have followed this blog for any amount of time you know this) that I have absolutely no fashion sense whatsoever. And in high school and college - UGH. I needed serious help. But, I had found a dress pattern that I loved and my mom was kind enough to make a couple of dresses for me from it. Unfortunately, I choose an oh-so-UNflattering, Lamé fabric (ACK) that I thought was so awesome at the time. (someday I will show you the many, many sad, sad dresses I had that were made out of Lamé. you will be horrified. lol)

Hey, it was the 90's. What can I say?


Anyway, my date was, as I said, one of my best friends. I was suffering from a completely shattered heart at the time and he was my rock. He knew my story, he knew my heart and he was always there for me no matter what. For many, many years, Mike was the only guy I could trust. He was the only one I could totally be myself with and he was an incredible friend. He is the kind of guy that parents LOVED, he is a gentleman and kind and always made time to help out, listen and advise when needed. For years he would call me every couple of months or so to chat and catch up, and there are many times now that I miss his calls. 


Life, time, space, miles and memories get in the way some times. And the older I get, the more I lament the mistakes I made and the times I didn't soak up the moment as it was happening. 


The night of the boot dance was awesome. I remember getting ready in my hotel room; excited to be going to a dance and yet terrified because I had no idea what to expect. It was extremely humid that day and my hair was not cooperating, as usual, so I tossed it up on my head (always a good idea at the time, but always a hair style I regret later). At some point in the night we all (Mike and I and a few friends and their dates) ventured up to the top of a parking garage and took in the lights and the stars. We danced awkwardly at the dance to groups like The Cranberries and Ace of Base (lol) and I recall a few snapshots in my head of a party afterward.  All in all I remember it as a great night. 


I am sure I thanked him then, but in case I didn't - Mike, thank you for a great night and a wonderful memory I will forever hold dear. You helped me keep my sanity back then, and for many years after and I am forever grateful to you for that. I know we've lost touch, but I hope that wherever you are and whatever you do you are happy. 


Until,
D :)

I Could Write a Book

I should be working right now, but I am actually waiting for a file to download so I can complete a client order, and with our impossibly slow internet speeds, it may take a while. So I thought, while I wait, I would tell you a story. 

A few weeks ago I was in Houston on business and that night I was a little bored. I started posting movie lines on my Facebook page, to see if anyone could recognize them.

Apparently I am pretty old, and have weird taste in movies. But that is a story for another day...

So a couple of my friends hit on some of the lines I was quoting. The thread took off with others quoting their favorite scenes from my favorite movie, When Harry Met Sally. One friend (hi Kelley!) quoted the scene with Sally and Harry in the diner when Sally is telling her story of days of the week underpants. In case you are not familiar with the genius that is this movie, here is the scene...

Sally Albright: Well, if you must know, it was because he was very jealous, and I had these days of the week underpants.
Harry Burns: Ehhhh. I'm sorry. I need the judges ruling on this. "Days of the weeks underpants"?
Sally Albright: Yes. They had the days of the week on them, and I thought they were sort of funny. And then one day Sheldon says to me, "You never wear Sunday." It was all suspicious. Where was Sunday? Where had I left Sunday? And I told him, and he didn't believe me.
Harry Burns: What?
Sally Albright: They don't make Sunday.
Harry Burns: Why not?
Sally Albright: Because of God.

 I love this scene! It's hilarious! I also love it because, I too, once had days of the week underpants.

And I didn't have Sunday either.

I was a kid, and I loved those stupid things.  They were so special to me; I remember getting excited when they were clean and I could wear them again.  However, at some point, Wednesday went missing.

What happened to Wednesday?? Where was Wednesday? Where had I left it? It was all suspicious.

Wednesday was missing for what seemed like an eternity. I remember it as a few weeks at least, but my memory could be incorrect. Anyway, one day my dad came home from work with a really funny story to tell. As it goes, he was talking to a coworker, and he casually stuck his hand in his pocket. He noticed that it felt like there was something in there, so he pulled out the unexpected object.  In his hand, right in front of his puzzled coworker was

Wednesday.

Can you imagine being an adult and pulling a pair of little girl's unders out of your pocket. Um, yeah. Dad was not amused, I am sure.

I love that memory.

Until,
D :)

Teach Me

Guess I'm gonna trip down memory lane a bit longer...

My thoughts have lately been, for the most part, in the past. I think what started it was that last week was the annual TMEA (Texas Music Educators Association) convention weekend. I had thought that it would be neat to dig up a bunch of old TMEA pics and post them to Facebook throughout the weekend, just to have a little fun. But, like most things, I never got around to doing it (and I couldn't find a ladder...).

So the TMEA thing got me thinking about other past things and my mind has been trapped in the past for a couple of weeks now. (By the way, have you seen the exit ramp? I'd really like to get off this road now.) And tonight I am preparing dinner and it started up all over again.

I was slicing some onions, chopping up garlic and jalapenos and scoring an avocado and suddenly I was back in the early 90's. I could see myself at a kitchen counter, making guacamole for the first time.  Then it occurred to me, Dr. Wayne Barrett, my voice teacher of 6+ years, taught me how to make guacamole.

He held a voice studio get together every year (or was it every semester??I can't remember) and we would meet at his house, eat a bunch of yummy stuff and hang out; Sometimes we'd sing too.  It was always a fun event.  At one of the first gatherings I attended, Dr. Barrett asked me to make the guacamole for him.

I had never made that before. People did that???

I was a HUGE guacamole lover (still am) and I was so impressed by both his knowledge and his expertise on the recipe. He always used fresh tomatillos, which were something I had never even seen at the time, much less cooked with. 

And with this new found knowledge, I soon began making my own guac - and still prefer it to store bought and most restaurant creations. Now that I am thinking about it, it was probably one of the first things I ever learned to make from scratch - and probably the beginning of my love of cooking.

So thank you, Dr. Barrett, for opening my eyes to a world of cooking and baking and...homemade guacamole.

Until,
D :)

I'm a Pepper

This is going to be an informative, hard hitting expose on something big in my life. So hold on to your britches, sit tight in your seats and keep reading. I am about to tell you...

Why I stopped (and then started again and then stopped) drinking Dr. Pepper!!!

I know, you are all shocked and on the edge of your seats. If you have known me for any length of time beginning in about 6th grade you know that for most of my life, Dr. Pepper has been my drink of choice.  If allowed, I would have indulged in them 24/7. I loved the taste, I loved the fizz, I loved the way it made me feel - which most of the time was relaxed and happy.  How could a drink hold so much power??

My love for Dr. Pepper started when I was in junior high, I believe.  My parents didn't allow me to drink any kind of soda, except on the weekends, and even then it was only one, maybe 2 a day.  When we went on vacation to their camp house, I think I was allowed one a day, no matter what day of the week it was (oh how wonderful!).  When we were at the camp though, Mom always stocked up the little ancient ice box on the porch with all kinds of fun flavored soda, including the ever elusive Nehi Peach, so I usually varied my soda consumption to accommodate the availability of those rare treats. I enjoyed a Coke every now and then, but I particularly liked grape soda and the Nehi Peach. Those were my favorites. But my beloved Dr. Pepper was never far from me, even when we were at the camp.

Some day I will have to write about the camp. What an amazing place that was.

Anyway, I became really hooked on Dr. Pepper back home when my mom started purchasing those little squatty, rounded bottles of it (the glass bottles were the best). At the time, we had a pool table in the living room of our house, and on Friday nights and through most of the weekends we played pool.  It was always a treat to sip on one of those bottled Dr. Peppers while shooting with my dad or various friends. I looked forward to it every week.

The obsession with Dr. Pepper grew as I went through high school, fueled by the greatness that is a Taco Bell Dr. Pepper.  I don't know what it was about Taco Bell that made them so good, but there was nothing that compared. (That is, until we discovered Sonic. Oh mercy. My Dr. Pepper obsession was brought to an all new level when paired with the exquisiteness that is Sonic ice!)

And when my friends and I started getting driver's licenses, my one-a-day-only-on-the-weekends rule was sort of out the window. Sorry, Mom. Never mind the fact that 45 or 50 cents could buy me one in the vending machines after school; that special treat boosted my energy for after-school rehearsals and practices. 

All through college I continued to drink Dr. Pepper. When I went home on the weekends I made sure to grab a 12 pack or 2 from my parents garage and put them in my car. Mom always kept me supplied. And in my adult life after college, it was my go to beverage. It's amazing that I still have kidneys...

And so I was a Dr. Pepper drinker. Forget the cola wars (Coke wins hands down anyway), I never had to make a choice. I am not even going to talk about the laughing stock that is Mr. Pibb - puh-leeze, it's not even in the same league. That stuff is nasty. Being a Dr. Pepper drinker becomes part of your identity in a weird sort of way.

Then working 2 or 3 jobs at a time hit and Starbucks came into popularity and I developed a love for coffee. With motherhood, coffee became my best friend. I still loved Dr. Pepper though, and had one every afternoon as my pick-me-up from the 3pm slump.

But in the past few years I have developed an obsession with eating healthy and removing many of the artificial ingredients and other bad foods from my diet. Never once did I consider abandoning my Dr. Pepper - someone had to keep the company in business. But then, it's funny that when you make major healthy changes in your diet, you also start to really taste things that you may not have noticed before.  I can always tell if something contains ingredients that are chemical in nature or processed.  I still loved Dr. Pepper though, and just like an addict I enjoyed the fizz, the tickle of the bubbles on my nose, the feel of it in my throat and the satisfaction I got from drinking it. But the flavor was not what it used to be.

Then, not too long ago, I was dealing with a lot of minor health issues.  Something was causing my body to be out of balance. It was reflected in my skin, my hair, my mental clarity (or in this case lack of) and I was experiencing a lot of discomfort through headaches, nausea and dizziness. After doing a lot of research I realized that I was most likely suffering from candida, and I immediately cut out all sugar and carbs from my diet. The Dr. Pepper had to go.

At first it was tough - there was about a 2 week period that I had to actually make myself busy during the slump time so I wouldn't constantly think about getting a Dr. Pepper. It probably took a month or so of not drinking it before I stopped craving it. And because I wasn't drinking any soda at all, I had to give up on the fizz and bubbles that brought me so much delight. I developed a love for unsweetened tea (when water just got too boring) and was doing fine for a while. But like most things, after about 6 months, occasionally I would really want a soda so I would allow myself one. Every time I tried to drink a Dr. Pepper it just tasted all wrong. I can totally taste the chemicals now! It's awful! I started drinking Coke instead, which surprisingly didn't have that same chemical taste.

I have tried to drink them every now and then since, and each time the flavor gets less offensive, but it is still just wrong. I think Dr. Pepper may be ruined to me forever. I tried to drink one today and couldn't finish it.

I suppose that is a good thing.  But still, it's the end of a big piece of my life. It sounds ridiculous when I put it out there like that, but it is what it is.

And now you know the rest of the story. ;)

Until,
D :)

When I Come Back Around

In the fall of 1999 I graduated from college. Finally. After many, many semesters of floundering, changing my mind, and failing classes, I finally got my head together long enough to finish up a major in vocal music education and get myself a degree. I took my EXCET exam, barely passed, and was awarded with all level general music education certification. 

Getting married in the spring of '99 really helped; at that point all I wanted to do was finish something, anything, and have that accomplishment. I didn't want to drop out and have all that time and money be a waste, and I was concerned about having something that could potentially get me a nice job if I needed it.

If I wanted it.

See, even though music has always been my passion, teaching music never was. But, heavily influenced by my family and friends, it was what I studied in college anyway.  And I guess, to me it was more about filling the need, the primal desire to sing, that kept me in the program. Singing was all I ever wanted to do, and I took the opportunity to do it in the only capacity I felt I could.

And all of this is not to say that I never enjoyed teaching - my student teaching experience was really fun and I did enjoy it immensely.  But I never had an excitement about it unless I was right there in the thick of it. I didn't want to do it if I didn't have too. Of course, the hours didn't help either - have I mentioned before that I am not a morning or a scheduled person?? Yeah, that was a HUGE disadvantage to teaching.

So anyway, in the fall of '99 I received my degree and since it was technically in the middle of the school year, I decided to take some grad classes (what was I thinking???) and substitute teach until I could apply for full time school positions in the spring.

Because that is what you do when you acquire a teaching degree, you teach. Right?

Hubby and I sort of had a desire to move to Austin.  If we had to stay in Texas it was the only place we could really see us living, so I started researching school districts in that area. I was told by several people that the Round Rock school district was one of the best, and from what I could tell the pay scale was slightly higher than the other districts. It seemed like fate when that spring an elementary school music teacher position in a Round Rock school opened up, so I sent in my little, pathetic, blank resume. When they called me in for an interview, I put on my most teacherly attire and drove the 3+ hours from Huntsville to Austin. I pulled into the parking lot of a school I had never been too, in a city I had only dreamt about and sat in my car for a few moments to collect my thoughts.  A teaching job wasn't really what I wanted, but it made sense and it would provide us with some security so it was the most logical choice.  I loved working with the elementary aged kids when I did my student teaching and I felt that level best fit my personality and inexperience.  So I went in to the school, totally aced the interview (they LOVED me) and then I came back to my car. I sat in the space and stared at the wood fence that lined the parking lot. It was done. Either they would offer me the job or they wouldn't.  I prayed for God's will and drove back to Huntsville.

A few days later they offered me the position.

I had the weekend to think it over and make a decision, so Hubby and I once again drove to Austin to look for housing.  This was way before the internet made shopping on line for housing easy, so we had to make the long drive.  We spent all day Saturday looking at dumpy apartment after dumpy apartment and then drove back on Sunday looking at dumpy house after dumpy house.  We returned to Huntsville Sunday night exhausted and weary.  There just wasn't anything that we could afford on a teacher's salary.  We couldn't take into account Hubby's potential salary because we weren't even sure he could find a job right away.

Even back then we were practical. Sort of.

So on Monday when the school called me back for an answer, I turned them down. Something about it was so easy, and yet I knew that that decision would change the trajectory of my life forever. I never went into public school teaching, and instead Hubby and I uprooted everything we knew and moved to Arizona the next summer to start a totally new life together.

I haven't thought about that school or that decision in years.  I couldn't even remember the name of the school or where it was. And in my mind, it was almost as if the whole thing was a dream. It really didn't even exist in that "former" life of mine.  So much has changed since then.

Last night, I pulled into the parking lot of an elementary school in Austin. I was there to judge an art competition for the students participating in the Reflections Art Program.  I pulled in a parking space and looked up at a wooden fence surrounding the lot.

I was at the same school, in the same parking space that I sat in almost 11 years ago.

Life is a wonderfully mysterious, amazing thing.

Until,
D :)

Let Beauty Awake

Port woke me up this morning with his diaper in his hand. 

The boys have been getting up earlier since the time change - it's not as bad as some of my poor friends, but I certainly don't like being woken up before my alarm goes off.  I suppose it is pretty nice when I am greeted with a sweet smiling by and a gentle "good mownin mumma". But when the wake up is an open wet diaper tangled in a pair of pajama bottoms sitting on my chest, it doesn't exactly start my day off right.

I don't care to get up before my alarm either, because it leaves us too much time to get ready in the morning. And if there is downtime I get sleepy. I like to get up and keep moving until we are out the door. But anyway, I suppose it could be worse.

The other night when I was out with my girlies, I recalled a story I never blogged that you might be interested in reading.  It was from our vacation to Arizona a couple of years ago.  If you are new around here or don't remember, Hubby and I took the boys on a 2 week long trip to Flagstaff for our annual family vacation with the inlaws.  Kiddo was almost 4 and Port was only 4 months old.  I blogged the first few days of the trip but I am pretty sure I never finished it out. {on a side note, I titled almost all of them with the songs from Ralph Vaughan Williams' Songs of Travel. I thought it was pretty brilliant... ;-) }

To refresh your memory (or get you up to speed), we drove to Arizona, stayed in Flagstaff for about a week and then drove back.  We were packed into our little CRV and towed a trailer with the stuff that didn't fit in the car.  Port was still very new, and thankfully sleepy, and I was pumping 8xs a day to feed him. On the drive there and back, we traveled pretty unplanned; that is, we didn't really reserve hotel rooms or anything along the way. We basically landed where we did, found a hotel and would stay the night. We stayed in a few dumps and a few pretty cool places along the way. 

On the way back home we were in New Mexico (I think) and had come to the point that we were ready to stop for the night. We started looking for a hotel and it just happened to be time for me to pump again. I had no problem pumping in the car, but since we were so close to stopping I decided to hold off until we found a place to stay.  We found a seemingly ok Motel 6 (they are always a crap shoot - sometimes decent, sometimes awful) and decided it had the best rate that we were going to find in that area. Being the end of the trip, we were a little tapped out financially and really wanted to save some money. So we stopped, paid for the room and then towed the kids up to our room. As we walked through the hotel grounds, I was disturbed by one, the sheer volume of people staying there, and two, the overwhelming smell of pot coming from several of the rooms.

uh huh

We went in our room and it became very clear that we would never be comfortable there; with all of the loud ruckus in the pool and the doorways of other rooms, there was no way we could rest. So, Hubby went back down to get us out of the room (and get our money back) and we decided to try the Motel 8 across the street. It looked pretty nice; it had much newer construction and a very tall fence around the perimeter of the property.  The lobby looked like something out of a 5 star luxury hotel and when we walked into the room - AMAZING! It was so beautiful! I was so relieved to be somewhere comfortable, quiet and nice!

The room itself was set up in a pretty unusual way. When you walked in the door, the bathroom with toilet and shower was to the right. Walking in lead you straight through the vanity area; when walking in and opening the door to the right, there was a huge 6+ foot wide mirror on the left.  Looking in the mirror from the door you could see the bed room portion of the room in the reflection.  So you walk in, are immediately in the vanity area and then walk through to the bedroom. The beds were on the right, tv on the left and sitting area at the far end of the room next to a big window.

So if you followed that - that was the general layout of the room. Basically one big rectangle with the bathroom tucked off behind the front door.

We got the boys settled inside watching cartoons and since I was about to explode, I set myself up to pump while Hubby went back out to the car to get the rest of our things. I set up on the bed and did my thing.  And being that it was just my family, I didn't really care and I was so tired, I didn't bother with covering anything up (you know modesty flies all out the window when you become a mom; especially the second time around).  So the boys were watching TV and I was pumping and all was right with the world. After a few minutes I hear a key card in the door and it begins to open. I say to Hubby (who is coming in the door), "so did you get everything ok?"

I looked into the vanity area to the mirror which showed me a view of the door.  It cracked open and a head popped in and a man with a big smile on his face saw me...

and his expression immediately changed to horror.

As did mine, because the man was not my husband.

As I scrambled for something to cover myself, he mumbled a hasty, "oh my God I am so sorry!" and scurried out the door. I can only imagine what he thought I was doing, hooked up to some sort of medieval torture device.

I was too tired to be terribly alarmed. I figured it was the cleaning crew or something with the wrong room, and I was pretty sure they'd walked in on much worse.  But then, the phone rang. I answered it and the  concierge was on the other end. 

"WHO ARE YOU and WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THIS ROOM!?!?" the voice yelled at me. I calmly gave her my name and told her we just checked in a minute ago. I asked her what the problem was. She replied that someone else was assigned to that room and she gave it to us by mistake and that her horrified guest had just walked in on me. She realized she had messed up and quickly got off the phone with me without so much as an apology.

I wonder how long that poor man had nightmares...

Until,
D :)

Random Rules

This post started out as something really great in my head, but somewhere between the driveway where I was thinking about it and the computer, I lost the story.  So, it is now just random thoughts. I apologize for my lack of writing skills today...

On the way home from the grocery store today, I happened to look over into the retention basin at the entrance to our neighborhood. Sitting in the grass was a basket ball.  I assumed it belonged to someone in one of the nearby houses, but I wondered how long it would sit there before someone walked or drove by and stopped to pick it up.

It was a pretty nice basketball.

I have always been someone who subscribes to the thought that if something isn't mine, I don't mess with it.  The "finders, keepers" philosophy has never been something I could wrap my head around. I empathized with the "losers, weepers" team.  It sucks to lose something, and wouldn't it be nice if the other side of that rhyme was "finders, givers back?"

What am I talking about??

Anyway, it made me think about how, when I was in high school, my dad bought a basketball goal for the driveway.

I don't play sports. I am an only child.

um

So, I didn't really understand why he bought the basket ball goal.  I don't remember ever asking for one. But, I guess it was kind of a cool thing to have. My friends and I wasted a lot of time shooting hoops.  It kept us outside a lot, so maybe that was the motivation.

Heck, for all I know, he was trying to find a way to attract some boys to me or something.

I never dated in high school. At least not until senior year.

He actually dug a hole on the side of the driveway and secured the goal post in the ground with concrete.  I bet it's still there. That sucker wasn't going anywhere.

But the most important rule for the basketball goal was that the ball had to be put away when we were done.  I wouldn't even dream of leaving it out in the yard or sitting in the drive way.  It had to go on the rack in the garage.

I had always been taught to leave things the way I found them.  If I walked into a room and the light was off, I made sure to turn the light off when I left. If the door was closed when I got there, it was closed on my way out. It seemed like common sense, really.  It is probably also the reason I find myself straightening shelves in the supermarket...

Anyway, there is a house next to the retention basin that has a basketball goal in the back yard. I suppose the ball belongs to them. May parents would have had a fit if I had left the ball outside of the yard like that.

Random.

Until,
D :)

Ride

Happy Saturday!

I know, I've been MIA all week. It's been a pretty rough one. I've been terribly stressed out; I'm way behind on my editing and feeling the crunch of it now makes me sort of go catatonic. Add on top of that the fact that my life "plate" is overflowing, and allergies are hitting me and the boys extremely hard. Port has some sort of massive sinus infection/allergy thing, and he has not been sleeping well. We spent one entire night this week on the couch, where I laid with him all night listening to him struggle to breathe. Like me, he doesn't sleep well with his mouth open, and every time he fell into a deeper sleep he would close his mouth. Unfortunately, his sinuses were so clogged that it would make him stop breathing all together, and then after several beats of silence he would wake up gasping for air. When he would swallow, it would create a suction in his sinuses and hurt his ears and throat. He was a mess.

Thankfully we only had one night of that, and the next night I pulled out the full arsenal of decongestant measures - I put saline in his nose, vicks on his feet, vapor lotion on his chest and gave him a dose of benadryl. I put the cool mist humidifier in the boy's room and they both slept the entire night in peace. Unfortunately, whatever it is that Port has seemed to afflict Kiddo too, and yesterday they were both pretty snotty.

My allergies are going haywire as well - my throat is raw from drainage and my ears and mouth itch. I ran out of oregano oil and I swear the next day the allergies got me. That stuff really keeps my symptoms at bay. I need to get to the store and get more asap.

Hubby is gone for the weekend on a motorcycle trip. Today it is a wonderful 72 degrees - absolutely perfect weather for riding. I haven't had the desire to ride the bike in a long time, but today I do for some reason. I saw this pic in the hallway and got all nostalgic.

This was one of the few times I rode by myself. I owned that bike for a few years. Actually, this pic is from the day Hubby took me out to learn how to drive it. I am pretty sure this moment was right after I had laid it down on my leg. lol! Thankfully I didn't hurt anything (except my pride) so I got up and drove it down the road again. On the way home from this ride I ran out of gas and had to coast on fumes for a few miles. Now that was fun. not.

I haven't been on a bike since before the kids were born. Hubby still rides all the time (of course) but I really haven't wanted to. Just before we moved back from Arizona Hubby had a wreck and shattered his wrist. After we moved back, just in time for Kiddo's first birthday, Hubby wrecked again and ripped open his leg. No, riding a bike was not really something I wanted to do after having kids. It just seemed to scary.

Today I am missing that feeling of freedom; wind on my face, the road flying by beneath my feet, the total lack of responsibilities and obligations. The fear and the excitement; the rush from going fast and leaning into turns... I miss it a lot today.

I think I am just overloaded with obligations and responsibility. I really wish I could just get away for a bit. I need to clear my head and figure out what the heck I am doing with myself. I feel like I am being pulled in a million different directions right now. I am doing a thousand different things in a mediocre way when what I really want is to do one or two things really well.

But I can't figure out what those things are supposed to be. I am running as fast as I can into anything I can find, trying to find my place. And at the same time feeling completely and totally lost.

Until,
D :)

Ride - Martina McBride

Sweet Little Thing

And one more thing...

Today Kiddo was in his room. I walked by the door and he said to me,

"Mumma, I just had a good idea. I am going to marry Ayssa (his favorite little girl friend from our playgroup). She is always so happy to see me. I like that. She is going to be so happy to see me at the wedding. I think that is a good idea. Do you think it's a good idea? Ayssa is always excited to see me, right Mumma?"

He is such a sweet boy.

Until,
D

Touch The Sky

This is Port's favorite song in the whole wide world. (not that he's been exposed to a plethora of music, but whatever) No matter what he is doing, no matter where he is in the house, when the first notes of this song play, he drops everything and runs to the tv. He stands there, totally wide eyed and mouth open, mesmerized for the entirety of the song until the part where he gives Snook a high five by touching his hand to the paw on the tv screen. At that moment he breaks out into a big grin, gives the high five, then steps back to his eyes wide, mouth open position. He LOVES that song. So much so, that it is what I sing to him every night when I put him in the crib. He gives me a high five too. ;-) I have never seen him so mesmerized by a cartoon character like he is with Snook. When the show comes on (Big Big World), he gets so excited. Strangely though, he doesn't really watch it much, just the song at the end.

But I have to say, I love singing the song to him. He calms down, he gets the funniest looks on his face, he gives me googly eyes and goofy grins. My heart melts as I watch him listen so intently. It's just one of those things that I love having with him that I know I can use if ever he is freaking out or over hysterical. He loves it sooo much, and it instantly puts him in a state of zen.

So I thought I would share it with you. It really is a pretty song.

Until,
D :)

Snow

Today, in Austin, TX, we had a snow day.
Today has been unlike any day I've ever seen.

I have only seen snow a few times in my life, but never have I seen anything like this. here. in our town.

{Mum, looka dis! Nooooo!}

The flakes, several times throughout the day, were the size of golf balls.
This is a picture of my broccoli plant. It is about 6-8 inches tall. Only the top 4-5 inches are sticking out.
These are my carrots. Or, were my carrots. I can't quite find them right now.
This is the neighbor's house. I didn't even recognize it.
Looking out from my doorway across the street. See my neighbors on the right? They are wearing short sleeved shirts. That is probably because we are in Austin, TX, and we don't know how to act in SNOW. And, also probably because it was 76 degrees on Sunday.
This is the same view only an hour later.
Hot chocolate. It was what was for lunch.
Man, Kiddo looks so....old. *sigh*

This is the front of my house. I cannot believe how much snow there is.
My rosemary bush. So pretty!
The boy. Squinty-eyed and messy-mouthed. Typical. ;-)

Our first snow man attempt. He is about 6" tall, and a true Texan. He has cedar berries for eyes. He kinda looks mad...

{go awaaaaay, go awaaaaaay!}

He is a photographer's kid. I get this look a lot.

{Fine, I will look at you. }

I like this one much better.
Our third snowman, Jack. He is much bigger. He and Kiddo are "holding hands".
And he has cool hair.

The boys had great fun throwing snow balls at each other (hubby included). I don't have pictures of it because I kept getting caught in the cross fire. I didn't want to risk getting my camera wet. Kiddo could have stayed out in it all day. I would have to drag him in every so often so he could warm up and dry off. My dryer got a real workout today running every few hours to dry pants, jackets and gloves. Port liked being out there, but once he got cold he was done. He stayed inside a lot and sat in the window saying "ooh pree nooo!" (ooh, pretty snow!). It was pretty cute.

Kiddo was pretty whiny all afternoon though. He gets like that when he's had a lot of fun or attention in one day - he can't handle it ending, even if it's just for a minute or two so everyone can warm up.

I just can't believe that it snowed here all. day. long! The flakes went from tiny to golf ball sized and everything in between. At one point it was raining, sleeting and snowing huge fluffy flakes all at the same time. I couldn't keep my eyes off the windows in my house.

But, even though it was fun and pretty and so extraordinary...

I am ready for the 76 degree weather to come back.

Until,
D :)

Thoughts Before Me

Reposting an old post of mine from 2006. It has always been one of my favorites and I thought it deserved a rebirth.

Superstition, Joy and God's Whispers

Before I start, I want to apologize for being away for a few days. Our lap top is in the shop and therefore I am cut off from the world with no internet access. I pestered Hubby enough today that he signed us up for a 30 day free trial of dial up, just so I could feed my addiction and check email and such. The dry heaves have stopped, but it is taking everything I have not to log on to BabyCenter - I miss you mommas!


Anyway, I am sitting in the Junk room that is supposed to be our office, typing clumsily on the dinosaur of a desk top that we have in here. Oh, how I miss the effortlessness of lap top keys - but all is well, I have a bag of Oreos and a glass of milk and I am ready to begin!


This post has been swirling around in my head for some time now and it took something happening today for me to finally be motivated enough to sit down and write it out.


I have a hard time experiencing Joy.


There, I said it. Really, I do. Only a few times in my life I have had that feeling; when all is right in the world and I am content and peaceful and smiling; you know the one, right? I have rarely ever been just over the top happy - and I shall tell you why. Now, I am not a superstitious person per say; I don't avoid cracks in the sidewalk for fear I will break my mother's back, nor do I worry much when a black cat crosses my path. After all, I had black cats mainly when I was growing up so I actually thought of them as good luck. But some things tend to stick in the back of my mind that others would label as superstitious.

It seems like every time I have had that feeling, it was immediately followed by a tragedy. I can name a few times - when I was about 15, I had been reunited with a childhood friend and was able to spend the weekend with her at her parents house. We had a terrific time; talking, laughing, all that girlie stuff, and when we woke up the morning that I was to go home, I remember standing in the mirror brushing my hair and reflecting on the weekend. I had that feeling - the one of happiness and contentment, "joy" I guess. And I was so excited for the first time in a long time. About that moment was when her mother came into the room and told me to get my things and that my parents were picking me up early. Turns out, my cousin, whom I was very close to, had committed suicide.


I could go on and on with examples. I was given an amazing graduation gift of a trip to the Cayman Islands and the week after I got back my boyfriend (who I though was my soul mate) dumped me. Every time there was an extreme life high, I would get hit by an extreme low. When I had my son, a perfectly normal and happy pregnancy turned into a frightening delivery and a very sick child with no explanation for several days. My best friend, who was supposed to have her first born only 9 days before mine, tragically lost her baby at 38 weeks gestation.

I guess lately I have been trying to make sense of all of this. Trying to understand why every time I start to let my guard down and enjoy life something like this happens. I know everyone has ups and downs; that's how things work of course, but the fear of the downs is what keeps me from really allowing myself to experience the joys of life. I am always guarded, always afraid of the next thing that will come around the corner. And often times I can really spiral down into a depression. I try not to let it show, but I am sure people know.

In the past I could lock myself in my room and play depressing music and cry it all out until I felt better. But as an adult with a husband and a child, there is just not room for such things. It's no wonder to me that mothers are the silent sufferers. They are forced to take care of everyone first, and if there is time left in the day, maybe, just maybe we can cry in the shower or in the car on the way back from the grocery store...

I often cry in the car or in the shower. How sad is that?

But, in all of this, I have to say that I do have a saving grace. God whispers to me. He doesn't do it often, but when he does, his timing is perfect. (of course it is, right?) Shortly before I turned 21 I was at probably the lowest part of my life. The locked in the room nights were way outnumbering the normal and I was at the end of my rope. I was driving to work (crying in the car) and suddenly that feeling came over me. It was Joy - pure, untainted joy. All my troubles didn't exist and suddenly I heard a voice in my head saying "have faith" over and over. A warmth washed over me and filed all the empty places - it was like nothing I had ever experienced. That was the day I got saved; I called the preacher at the church I had been singing with through the university and asked for a meeting. I had no idea really of what being saved meant, but I knew it was what I need to do.

Fast forward to today, again driving in my car with Kiddo on the way to the grocery store. I have been down a lot lately. It gets worse around the glorious PMS time and then tends to subside a week or so after, but lately the sadness has been sticking around a lot. I don't know what it is; I can't explain it, other than the sheer fact that we, like most people, can never seem to get on top of finances; something it always breaking or in need of repair, or we have a medical bill or the insurance premium goes up AGAIN - it never ends, I know. But it has really gotten to me lately and I can't seem to shake the funk. So today we are driving and that feeling came over me - warm and fuzzy and inviting - and the song on the radio (it was Nickelback - "Far Away") played softly in the back ground. Now, the song is new and so I am not terribly familiar with the words yet, but what was loud enough to hear were the phrases "keep breathing", "hold on to me" and "I will love you". And, though it seems silly writing it now, I knew it was God, whispering - gently reminding me of His love and Grace. And I know that no matter the troubles I think I have, if I just keep breathing and hold on to Him, I will be alright.

And so I just want you all to know the same thing. Hold on, keep breathing. We will make it.

Thanks for walking down memory lane with me.
Until,
D :)

Wrinkle In Time

Even though we have 2 professional photographers in the family (myself and Hubby), several very good hobbyists and various picture taking fanatics, it is very rare that anyone ever takes a picture of me. And when they do it is often terribly unflattering or embarrassing.

So most of the time I am forced to take pictures of myself. This task really leaves me the only option of producing the dreaded "myspace photo".

You know the one...

Hold the camera at arms length, point it at your face, strike a pose and hope for the best.

Yeah, so try that with a 4-5 pound camera/lens combo a few times and you can see how uncomfortable and annoying it can be.

Anyway, I was on a kick a while back with doing daily self portraits, but after about 15 I lost interest. It was just too difficult to get a decent one without a remote. There is only so much you can do from 2 1/2 feet away.

But every now and then I need to take one; in recognition of my birthday or a new hair color - such as the one I took last Thursday.
Not a bad shot - and I of course love my hair.

But unfortunately, the things I do see in this photo are kind of depressing.

I see my age creeping up on me.

Now, I know I am not that old yet, but I am definitely no spring chicken. It's just that my face is really starting to show it now. My once smooth skin has wrinkled in way more areas than I notice on a daily mirror inspection. If I zoom in to that image above the results are a bit frightening.

I know not everyone is going to get that close to me of course, but since I don't carry around a hand mirror and check my reflection in every possible light situation, I can only assume that sometimes (and probably more often than not) the "face" I am putting forward is probably somewhere close to the mid point or lower on the good skin day/bad skin day scale. The wrinkles, the dryness, the imperfections can not be hidden by good lighting and Photoshop fixes in my daily life (oh how I wish I could keep a clone tool in my make-up bag!).

So, I am left with a decision. Face my face and embrace it and learn to love my wrinkles, or fight like heck to delay the aging process for as long as possible.

I remember sitting on a restaurant patio one sunny afternoon in Phoenix, Arizona. A family was seated at the table next to us - mom, dad and a few kids. The kids were probably elementary and middle school aged, and the parents probably close to the age I am now. The mom was striking - long blond hair and beautiful features; her skin a rich, deep Arizona tan. She was extremely wrinkled on her face and arms, no doubt from years of sunning and outdoor living. And I recall mentioning to Hubby how pretty she was, despite the wrinkles, and how I hoped that if I were to wrinkle that way that I could make it look as good as she did.

My mom never really seemed to age much until recently. She held on to her smooth skin and youthful looks well into my college years. Even now she still doesn't look her age. I look at pictures of her from when she was my age and I think she looks a lot younger than I do now. And at that time my dad was a 3 pack a day, in the house/car/office smoker. So she was exposed to skin damaging chemicals all day and night. She still looked amazing.

I wonder if aging is all relative. I wonder if the reality is, it has nothing to do with genes or skin care or healthy lifestyle. I wonder if it is all in the way you carry yourself. Perhaps it is all in the attitude you take and you soul, your inner most being, whether aging is a graceful or disgraceful process.

The woman in the restaurant was happy; smiling, confident, joyful. She loved her life and it was evident in the way she talked and smiled and carried herself. It was obvious in the way the wrinkles had formed on her face. They were laugh lines and eye crinkles from lots of smiling and laughing. They were from happy days and a good life.

I don't know what kind of wrinkles I have. I hope they are from laughing at and with my children. I hope they are from the beaming smiles the kids bring to my face when I see them. I pray that I can one day wear them confidently and boldly show the world the good life I've had by wearing it on my skin.

But for now I look at the images and lament the wasted youth I once had. The smooth skin, the flat tummy and the natural blond hair are all gone. I rebel against the natural aging and darkening of my hair by transforming it to colors it was never meant to be. And I like it that way. But sometimes I wish I had appreciated my youth while I had it. And I hope that I can appreciate my middle age and my old age as they come.

I look at the pictures and I try to learn these lessons.

But I can't see past the imperfections just yet.

Until,
D :)

Sweet Thing

When I was growing up we had a number of pets; cats, dogs, birds, rabbits... One of the dogs we had was a little terrier mix we named TJ.

One of the things TJ loved was my dad's coffee.

I know it sounds funny, but he did! Every day my dad would take a cup of coffee in the car with him on the way to work. He would drink all but the last swallow and leave the cup in the car while he worked. When he came home in the evenings, TJ would bolt to the door and sit up for his coffee. My dad would hold down his cup and let him lick the left over coffee from the bottom.

The dog looked forward to this every day. If by some chance my dad forgot to leave some in the cup, or didn't have coffee that morning, TJ would sulk for a little while.

So here I am, 20+ years later, and I have my own little guy that likes to finish the last drops of my coffee in the morning. He will stand in front of me and paw at the desk trying to grab my coffee cup. When I oblige his request, he will stick his tongue in my cup and try to lick as much of the coffee out of it as he can. And he is every bit, if not more cute than TJ ever was.
Sometimes I let him take my cup completely. I just can't resist him.

Until,
D :)

Going Home

Happy Friday Company Girls!! (and other Beloved Readers!) I tried to publish this post 3 times before Blogger quit eating it...

Well as many of you know, I had the most amazing weekend last weekend. After getting my hair colored and cut (always a treat - thanks Kim!!) I waited for the Hubby to get home from work. As soon as he was home, I kissed him and the kiddos goodbye and drove my little happy self up to Dallas to spend a couple of days with our very own Rachel Anne!
We met up to work on her very special book project, Company Girl. It was so fun sifting through all the amazing photo entries. We narrowed it down to a little over 100, and then took to task placing the perfect photo with each line of the text. Sometimes, it was so hard to choose!
Rachel is so fun to work with, and thankfully we agreed on most of the selections. We were very fortunate to have her daughter there as well to help us choose. I just love her office - it is so open and inviting, with lots of room to spread out.
I know ya'll are dying to know, so I am going to spill. lol! Her home really is a Sanctuary!! Yes, really! (not that I ever doubted you Rachel, but you know some internet folk can be kinda dicey... hee hee!) Her home is so nice and comfortable! It's beautifully furnished and inviting. I felt completely comfortable in every room. She has little touches all around the house that make it special - well placed books or an antique lamp, beautiful lace on an end table or a cute little potted plant. And it's all placed so perfectly and makes each area look just right. I so wish I had that kind of eye for things.

Like I said before, we did lots of talking and visiting. This is Rachel talking to her daughter just after we ate breakfast.
We did lots of laughing too!
I just fell in love with this guy. He is soooo sweet! And when he wants to talk to you he moans. lol!
This is only part of the long, twisty dirt road drive to Rachel's house. It was a good thing she met me at the end of the driveway when I arrived on Friday night, or I never would have found the house.
I can totally see myself having coffee and spending some peaceful time here in the mornings.


This of course is the amazing Flash!!
He has the coolest black stripe running down the middle of his back and tracing around his shoulders.

Flash is so sweet, like a big ol dog. He would approach me, but then back away when my shutter clicked. I think the camera kinda freaked him out a little.
He loooooves Rachel - I think he would crawl into her lap if she let him!
I had so much fun on my trip! We made great progress on the book, and developed a wonderful friendship. It was a weekend I will never, ever forget!

Thanks for stopping by!

Until,
D ;)

Ten Years Gone

It seems that for some reason I am never able to get the "big" blog posts out in a timely fashion. I still haven't finished Little Port's birthday post, the last of the series from our vacation last AUGUST and a few others along the way that have been started and abandoned. I am thinking that this week I should concentrate on finishing those once and for all. It sucks the life out of me to see the list of drafts get longer and longer - so it is time to do something about it. We'll see how far I get. ;-)Anywho - I owe you all (and myself of course) the post about my 10th anniversary. It's the pictures that are holding me up on this; there are so many and I can't decide what to include. So I think I will just jump in and see what happens...

So it's been a while since I talked about our finances on here. It's not that I am trying to keep secrets or anything, it's just that you know, it's not the most fun subject. lol And nothing has really changed, other than just getting worse, so I try not to dwell on it too terribly much.

But one can't help but think about finances when a 10th anniversary rolls around. Most of the time we are forcefully content with having to do holidays, birthdays and anniversaries low key - not because it's our personality but because circumstances prevent us from doing anything else. But of course, 10 years is a big deal in terms of a marriage, and because I knew we really couldn't afford to do anything, I was trying for months to not think about it.

But, it's pretty much impossible when facing such a momentous occasion. Hubby and I discussed the options we had, which were basically sucking it up and dipping into one of our emergency funds to afford the gas to go somewhere and camp, because any other option was pretty much out of the question. We desperately wanted some time away from the kids, since that luxury comes so infrequent, it was vital that whatever we decided to do involved driving near the inlaws house so they could watch the kids for us for a day or so.

We had originally settled on camping on the beach in Galveston - something I was very much interested in doing, though knowing in the back of my mind it probably wasn't the most "romantic" option out there. I mean the sand, the heat, the mosquitoes - woo wee!

But faced with very few alternatives, I agreed to it and so that was our plan. My task was to figure out how to pay for it. When my inlaws heard that we were planning to camp, they ever so graciously offered to buy us a night in a hotel instead. They booked us a room at the amazingly beautiful Tremont House Hotel, just off the strand in Galveston.So on Thursday night we drove to Houston and stayed with them, then left the kiddos there and headed to Galveston Friday morning. When we got to Galveston we were famished, so we stopped at the Chili's for lunch.

[Now I am also going to tell you all how we managed to pay for this trip. I have to say one of my better qualities is squirreling things away. hee hee. If I receive a gift of cash or a gift card for my birthday or Christmas or the like, it is very rare that I actually use it right away and instead I hoard it for quite some time. I always hold onto things for just the right moment. So, this year at Christmas, Hubby and I received a couple of gift cards for Chili's from various family members. I had tossed the gift cards into my wallet just before we left and was able buy us lunch on a gift card. We split an appetizer and each had an iced tea (a splurge - I hate ordering iced tea at a restaurant because I know exactly how much it costs them to make it and it irks me that they can charge over $2 for something that costs them less than a penny...but I digress). Lunch=free!]

We sat at a little booth on the far end of the restaurant right next to a side entrance/exit. After a filling lunch we realized we were a bit weary from the travel so we decided to go ahead and check into the hotel.

The Tremont House hotel is amazing! It had probably one of the most beautiful rooms I've ever seen. The room, as with the rest of the hotel, was decorated mainly in black and white; with beautiful white bed linens (the most amazing bed!!! I wanted to take it home) white walls with black stripes, a black rug with white accents on the floor and a very cool black, white and silver bathroom.
I fell in love with the knee to ceiling windows (14 feet!) and those white sheers! I had visions of bridal and boudoir sessions galore! (always the photographer!)We rested in the room for a while and then decided to explore the hotel a little. We found out that it had just reopened that week from last year's Hurricane Ike. The entire 1st floor of the hotel was lost in the flooding. It looks fantastic now!!I got a few shots of the hotel and Hubby taking pics of the hotel and then got bored. lol! We decided to drive around a bit in town and then head over to the Bolivar Peninsula to check things out. In case you didn't know, Bolivar was pretty much wiped out when Ike hit, leaving little to nothing left behind. The devastation was unbelievable, and a mere 9 months later we really wanted to see if any progress had been made. Galveston itself is still heavily under construction, and just driving up and down the streets was interesting.

We knew there would be a line to get on the ferry, but we figured since it was Friday the wait shouldn't be too long.Sadly though, after waiting in line for at least 30 minutes with no end in sight, we started calculating how long it would take us to get over to the peninsula, through it and back to the main land. If we'd stayed on our course we'd be having our anniversary dinner well after 9pm. So we hopped the curb and u-turned out of the line and went back to the gulf shore. We chose instead to drive the seawall and look at some of the remaining damage along there.

Then we traveled down to a marina that had a boat "graveyard" of sorts. I couldn't believe how much debris there was, even after 9 months of steady clean up. As we walked around taking it all in, I watched several men unload a boat full of wreckage. They were transferring large waterlogged items from the boat (I presume they were cleaning up the marina stalls) onto a bulldozer. The bulldozer would then drive over to a dumpster and deposit the items. I audibly gasped when I noticed the bulldozer loaded down with, among other things, a baby stroller. I found this baby quilt in a pile of rubble next to where we had parked. It was once beautiful...

[which one do you like better?]

This was a boat that was in one of the fenced off areas. We assumed the boats here were either unclaimed or unsalvageable. The name of the boat struck me.
Of course, Hubby got much better pictures of the boats than I did. After exploring there a while, we headed back to the hotel to change and go to dinner. It was so nice to be able to go out without having to worry about high chairs and long waits; we could go where we wanted and wait as long as needed without worry that someone was going to have a melt down. (though I do get whiny if I haven't eaten in a while *wink*)

Anyway, we decided to try out a place called Fish Tails. It is a cute place right on the seawall just across from the old Flagship Hotel (RIP). We got a patio table and enjoyed the breezes coming off the gulf. Surprisingly, the fishy, stale gulf breezes I remember from my youth were no where to be found and instead, everything was nice and clean smelling.

We ordered probably the best thing on the menu as an appetizer, the Shrimp Kisses.Oh yeah. Shrimp stuffed with pepper jack cheese, wrapped in bacon and deep fried. Oh baby!

We split a platter and enjoyed the view. My view...And his...
Waaaaay back in February, Hubby's parents had sent us a beautiful card for Valentines. They had enclosed a check so that Hubby and I could go out to dinner. Unfortunately, we didn't have a baby sitter so we opted to cook at home and enjoyed a nice meal with the boys. I had been carrying that money in my wallet along with a little of my Christmas loot so - Dinner = FREE. lol! Love that!

I will stop here and start a new post for the second half of our little getaway as this one is getting way too long.

Until,
D :)