In the spirit of full disclosure...

...an open letter to my dear, sweet, tolerant husband:

Dear Darren,

As you may or may not be aware, there have been quite a few discussions flying about the blogosphere these past couple of days regarding the myth of the "perfect" wife and mom. I, of course, felt I had absolutely nothing to contribute because as we all well know, I am quite...welllll...perfect. (Ahem.)

So imagine my sheepish surprise when I walked into our bathroom this afternoon and noticed, apparently for the first time in several weeks, the decorative Christmas towels we still had hanging on the towel rack about the toilet. Christmas towels! February begins tomorrow! It just goes to show how much attention this "perfect" housewife pays to the bathroom! I laughed to myself as I thought, "Well, I'll be! Would you look at that! How hilarious would it be to post a picture of those on my blog..."

So, I'm standing there, with camera in hand, trying to find just the right angle and lighting, when in walks Meghan carrying....

....Ummm, here's where it starts to get bad. Really, really bad.

You know that old, well worn Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Wildflowers you love so much? The one with field notes dating all the way back to 1983 printed fastidiously in the margins? The one you still refer to often? The one that little Miss Meggie has, of late, become quite fond of, too?

Well.

I was, as I said, completely engrossed with the task at hand: getting a shot of those towels. As often happens when I've got my camera, I was only marginally aware of the fact that Meghan had even walked into the room, and totally oblivious to what she held in her hand.

Until I heard it splash into the toilet.

At which point, lightning quick but not quick enough, I grabbed it right back out, sopping wet and dripping all over the floor...

...your book. The book.

I'm so, so sorry. I dried it off as best I could, fanned out the pages, and set it tenderly in a small shaft of sunlight on the table in our bay window. I think it can be salvaged. I know it has more character.

And now you know...as does the rest of the world, or at least whoever else reads this...that I am imperfect, after all. I neglect our bathroom. And our daughter, too, apparently.

At least when I've got my camera in hand.

Magnetic

Yesterday my mom, who lives only five minutes away but who had been in Florida for the past ten days, came over to visit. Judging by our exuberance at finally seeing each other again, one might have guessed that it had been ten years since we'd last been together! But we had such a great time. We lingered over a late lunch consisting of cheese, crackers, grapes, and cookies. We watched my kids dance and play and I proudly prompted Meghan to demonstrate her new-found abilities (including running and dancing), and elicited some spoken examples of her ever growing vocabulary (now including, in addition to "Mama" and "Dada", the words "Book", "Milk", and "More". ) And, determined to instruct my archaic (though still totally hip!) mom on the most basic level of computer navigation, I helped her get caught up on my blog reading. :)

Later we hauled out a bunch of my new favorite craft supplies and worked on making some super cute magnets. This was so much fun for all of us, and so easy that even Dylan and Caitlyn were able to help. We started by printing some pictures onto card stock, then simply cut them out, glued them onto a couple squares of other, complimentary colors, and finished them with self adhesive laminating sheets that, after trimming, created really durable cards, to the backs of which we added some self adhesive magnet strips. I think I'm becoming slightly addicted to the process, but they are just so much fun! And I'm thinking we'll make some for family members as gifts for Valentine's Day...in fact, I already tried my hand at one for my Aunt Gloria, which is, for now, displayed on my refrigerator with some of the others we made yesterday:

On today's agenda? Absolutely nothing. All my laundry was finished yesterday, I tidied the house before going to bed last night, and we are free to just enjoy today. (But secretly, I'm hoping for a visit from one of my best friends, "Auntie" Erin, in which case we just may have to drag those craft supplies out once again!)

Here I Am To Worship

For years now, my family has gone to the 11:45 Mass on Sunday mornings. As we've had more children, the time is sometimes inconvenient, coinciding with both lunch and nap times, but I love hearing my brother (the choir director for that Mass time) sing, so we make it work. I am sometimes moved to tears by the beauty of his voice and the power of the lyrics, and quite often, I'll have a particular song in my head for the rest of the week. Such is the case with this beautiful song: Here I Am To Worship, by Tim Hughes. I've had it in my mind all morning, and I just had to hear it today! Much to my happy surprise, I found a beautiful version of it on YouTube, which I'm sharing here with you now to brighten your morning, too. Enjoy!

Wings

I was so proud when Dylan turned five last September. Such a big boy! But this business of growing up? I don't think I like it. Not one bit.

We spent this morning running errands, going to the bookstore (HA! What timing! Just as I wrote that, Darren came into the room carrying our enormous stack of newly acquired books..."In case you want to blog about books again later"...which I do! But not in this post.)

Anyway, I digress.

So this morning, we stopped by Wal-Mart to pick up a few craft supplies, some things for dinner, and to get our most recent photos developed. ($59 worth of photos! Something tells me I need to stop taking so many pictures!)

Since it was already after noon, (nearing one o'clock, actually) by the time we finished our shopping, I suggested stopping at Quizno's in the adjacent strip mall to pick up a quick lunch. We drove across the parking lot, and since Meghan was asleep in her car seat I offered to stay out in the van with the kids while Darren ran in to get our sandwiches. I thought I'd keep us all amused by reading aloud from "Insectlopedia", an awesome book which I've been wanting ever since Celeste wrote about it back in October, and which I was thrilled to find this morning!

But not three minutes had passed before Dylan was shouting from the back of the van, "I need to go pee! Right now!" Accompanied by a lot of squirming. And tugging at his seat belt. I knew this was urgent, but I didn't want to risk waking Meghan by unbuckling her from her seat. So, I helped Dylan get his shoes back on, hurried him out of the van, and, not wanting to leave the girls but not keen on the idea of Dylan crossing the parking lot by himself, either, I walked a few steps with Dylan, made sure he knew exactly which store to go into, reminded him to look for Darren the second he was in, checked for oncoming traffic, then said, "Okay! Go!"

I watched as Dylan ran into Quizno's, but squinting towards the reflective glass front of the store, I couldn't tell if he actually found Darren. For a few agonizing, indecisive moments, I stood watching, hoping for a sign from Darren, wishing at once that I had just unloaded the girls and gone in with him. Reaching what I deemed a reasonable compromise, I turned off the van, locked the doors with the girls still buckled into their seats, and ran the few steps to the door of the restaurant, which was way more crowded than I imagined...and where I saw no sign of either Dylan or Darren! Assuming that meant they had found each other and were at the moment taking care of business in the bathroom, I went back to the girls, resumed reading, and then thought with a jolt of panic, "Maybe he's not with Darren and all! Maybe someone else snatched him and I just didn't see!" So I got back out of the van where I could keep a close eye on every single person coming out through the door. (In hindsight, I am definitely kicking myself for not just going in to the dang store to begin with, but I figured they'd be right back out and all would be well.)

The minutes dragged on. ("What the heck do they do in there?!" I agonized. "Butcher their own meat?") Finally, after an interminably long time, my guys came ambling out, hand in hand, chatting happily and gesturing animatedly when they saw me standing paralyzed by the side of the van. Darren laughed as he recounted for me his surprise when Dylan came up beside him at the counter, tugging on the hem of his shirt. He said that everybody inside got a big kick out of Dylan's little-boy antics, story-telling, and general good cheer. The looonnnggg delay was caused by the indecisiveness of the patron ahead of him in line.

I had spent those few terrible minutes imagining Darren coming out to the van by himself, at which point, I imagined, I would frantically shout "Where's Dylan?!"...before every parents worst nightmare would go spiraling out of our control. Oh, the tricks my mind plays. Silly, really, how worked up I let myself get! And I realized after, on the ride back home, how all of this is just a part of growing up for Dylan, and will later be for my girls, too. Letting them go, a little at a time. Watching as they spread their wings. And praying we've prepared them well enough to fly.

In Loving Memory of Angel

Born into heaven January 26, 2000

***

Never cradled in our arms, but held forever in our hearts.

Dylan's packed and ready to go!

Albuquerque. March 4th. The Wiggles, live!