It seems with everything we have going on, that our backyard is like the poor cousin who lives in the woodshed.
We give it the bare minimum effort to keep it up and try and forget it exists. Largely our backyard is dirt. We live in the desert and dirt comes easy. This has become a dilemma as of late due to the fact that my son Macguyver Jr is hosting his first birthday party in a couple of weeks. This party is to be a BBQ/pool party. Out in the backyard. You are beginning to see my point.
This party would be easy to create if three things manifested ASAP.
The first being a clean, trimmed and mowed backyard. Good thing we have my brother coming over this weekend to help Farty Papa do just that. Crisis averted. Almost.
The second being that we in fact had a pool. Now I may have blogged last year about buying a softside pool and how excited we were to put it up. Alas that was never to be. We in fact never set it up and it was left to it's doom outsite in the elements. Plastic + heat + dust = pool death. We mourned and like good family members we planned to replace it. Problem is the pool we want is expensive. It will afford us longevity as it is a sturdy pool and convenience because we can leave it up year round but it ain't no chump change. We hope to have the new one before the party or egg will be on our faces. And not the good kind.
The third obstacle in our way is a BBQ. Now we have a BBQ but Farty Papa informs me that it is not in working order. I think if I had known this I never would have even suggested this party to my son. HOW can you have a party with no food? I mean there is food and then there is pool party food. DUH.
So this week I intend to go out and clean it as best I can and see if I can get the sucker to turn on.
So say a little prayer for our pathetic pool party. lol. We will need it.
Oh and DM yea I'm gonna need the chairs again..LOL. I'm not proud I am going to borrow tables from the church again too!
Truth be told I am excited about this party. My son has done so much in the past year and he deserves a celebration.
A quick thank you to Farty Papa for being the wonderful father he is. There is no doubt in my mind that our children get their good qualities from him but a few they got from me , make them interesting. :D.
I love you, we love you and I am proud to say you have been the kind of father to our children that I wished I had had for myself. Thank you.
Mrs. F.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Blessings, Trials and something to look forward to.
It has been a long long time since I have blogged. I could say I've been busy, I could say I haven't been inspired, I could say I have been hiding. All would be true and all would also be a lie.
The truth is far more uninteresting. I haven't blogged lately because it stopped meaning what it used to , to me. It used to mean a way for me to chronicle my life for my childrens sake. To document changes, successes, failures, joy, pain and all of our lifes "moments". It used to mean a way for me to focus on the little joys and quirky moments that display all of my blessings quietly. So quietly sometimes that if I am not keyed in, I can miss them. It used to be a way for me to not miss those moments.
Somewhere it became more like those banal Christmas letters we all get from people we know we aren't important to. I don't want the story of my life to get lost in a christmas card. I don't want that for my kids either. So I stopped blogging. It wasn't a concious decision it was a series of moments that I encountered where I chose not to document my life.
I recently had a conversation where there were several opinions about blogging, the internet and people oversharing. I guess I have never been one to worry so much about oversharing as much as I worried about withholding myself from those I loved. Or holding back myself so much that It changed who I was.
I personally love reading blogs about those people who are important to me. I wish those around me did it more. In a society where we are all so busy and so wrapped up in our own lives, struggles etc. It gives those around you a chance to know when even small things happen. I may not talk to my family every day or my nieces or nephews but I read about them whenever I can. When I do see them I have things I can ask them about, begin a dialogue with them about things that are important happenings in their lives. I like that.
I like knowing one of my sister in laws loves her cats. I like knowing that she has suffered something and allows those that care about her to share in her pain. It's a way to bond even though she is states away from me. I like knowing when my brother in law hires a stretch hummer to woo his wife. I like knowing about new babies on the way and getting the glimpse of the very tender heart of one of my sister in laws. She likes to have people think she is tough and that she doesn't care what others think or say about her. I like knowing that she really does. I like that I know this. I like knowing moments in the lives of those people I love.
Suddenly I began to see those banal Christmas letters quite differently. Instead of seeing them as a needle to poke me with, to remind me that while I may merit a once a year letter I do not merit anything more. A subtle your not welcome here sign. I started seeing them as a window. A window that allows me to see moments in peoples lives whom I may wish I was closer to but for whatever reason it is not meant to be. It dawned on me that it was a blessing. Something I am now grateful for.
What does all of this meandering have to do with my blog. Well I began to think that perhaps there was someone out there who wanted a window to my family. I had closed that window and drawn the curtain and what if I had shut someone out? I decided that it was a good thing to blog about my life and my family. I know that 99% of the world will never see or care what I write but there are a few and more than that....I care. I will see it and perhaps one day it will allow me to write my life story to give to my children one day.
I decided that I was holding back so much that it changed who I was. It changed how I approached something I loved. I no longer care if blogging makes it look like I spend all my time on the computer. I no longer care if it makes people talk or wonder about my commitment to my family. If you actually read my blog those two things would be laughable.
So here I go again. A life story unfolded and unfolding.
Mrs. F.
The truth is far more uninteresting. I haven't blogged lately because it stopped meaning what it used to , to me. It used to mean a way for me to chronicle my life for my childrens sake. To document changes, successes, failures, joy, pain and all of our lifes "moments". It used to mean a way for me to focus on the little joys and quirky moments that display all of my blessings quietly. So quietly sometimes that if I am not keyed in, I can miss them. It used to be a way for me to not miss those moments.
Somewhere it became more like those banal Christmas letters we all get from people we know we aren't important to. I don't want the story of my life to get lost in a christmas card. I don't want that for my kids either. So I stopped blogging. It wasn't a concious decision it was a series of moments that I encountered where I chose not to document my life.
I recently had a conversation where there were several opinions about blogging, the internet and people oversharing. I guess I have never been one to worry so much about oversharing as much as I worried about withholding myself from those I loved. Or holding back myself so much that It changed who I was.
I personally love reading blogs about those people who are important to me. I wish those around me did it more. In a society where we are all so busy and so wrapped up in our own lives, struggles etc. It gives those around you a chance to know when even small things happen. I may not talk to my family every day or my nieces or nephews but I read about them whenever I can. When I do see them I have things I can ask them about, begin a dialogue with them about things that are important happenings in their lives. I like that.
I like knowing one of my sister in laws loves her cats. I like knowing that she has suffered something and allows those that care about her to share in her pain. It's a way to bond even though she is states away from me. I like knowing when my brother in law hires a stretch hummer to woo his wife. I like knowing about new babies on the way and getting the glimpse of the very tender heart of one of my sister in laws. She likes to have people think she is tough and that she doesn't care what others think or say about her. I like knowing that she really does. I like that I know this. I like knowing moments in the lives of those people I love.
Suddenly I began to see those banal Christmas letters quite differently. Instead of seeing them as a needle to poke me with, to remind me that while I may merit a once a year letter I do not merit anything more. A subtle your not welcome here sign. I started seeing them as a window. A window that allows me to see moments in peoples lives whom I may wish I was closer to but for whatever reason it is not meant to be. It dawned on me that it was a blessing. Something I am now grateful for.
What does all of this meandering have to do with my blog. Well I began to think that perhaps there was someone out there who wanted a window to my family. I had closed that window and drawn the curtain and what if I had shut someone out? I decided that it was a good thing to blog about my life and my family. I know that 99% of the world will never see or care what I write but there are a few and more than that....I care. I will see it and perhaps one day it will allow me to write my life story to give to my children one day.
I decided that I was holding back so much that it changed who I was. It changed how I approached something I loved. I no longer care if blogging makes it look like I spend all my time on the computer. I no longer care if it makes people talk or wonder about my commitment to my family. If you actually read my blog those two things would be laughable.
So here I go again. A life story unfolded and unfolding.
Mrs. F.
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