I have great taste in Sharpie Pens, apparently. Take, for example, my encounter with David Sedaris. David liked my pen, so I gave it to him. He even drew me a picture of it:
So Saturday night I finally got to go see Eddie! It was a fanastic show, and I got to see it with my good GF, Robin. We had a glass of wine (okay, three) before the show, then enjoyed about 2 hours and 20 minutes of EDDIE. I was over the moon. We then waited outside the theater for the chance to talk to him and were not disappointed. I was surprised he could even talk, as he had done such a thorough job of entertaining me - er, everyone. When he came out, he was the most gracious and generous person I might have ever encountered. There were something like 300 people waiting to see him (including one obnoxious woman who was old enough to know better and kept screeching at him that it was her birthday. Sure lady, and I had a baby this morning, it's my birthday today, and I only have 3 days to live). Eddie was so kind and he said he would get to everyone.
As per usual, I had a specific Sharpie marker with me that would show up on the liner notes I had brought for him to sign. I am always prepared for that sort of thing. Anyway, my exchange with my new boyfriend - er, Eddie went something like this:
As Eddie started to look for a place to sign my DVD liner with his black pen...
nrL: Please. Use this pen. It will show up (and I tried to accidentally make out with him as I passed him the pen).
EI: Is it silver?
nrL: Why, yes it is!
Eddie signs my liner notes while making crazy love-struck eyes at me. Ooops! That was the replay of the event I had when I went to bed that night... sorry. Eddie signs my liner notes and makes a pleasant noise and says:
EI: Oh! That is a nice pen.
nrL: Would you like to have it?
EI: Yes, actually I would.
nrL: Please take it then. Thank you. (and in my mind I said, I love you and I want to adopt your baby)
So, Eddie, I'm not sure how to get this post added to your beloved Wiki, but if you read this I really mean it.
a sport men play during baseball season
Show us your mother.
Dear Jenna - Happy Birthday baby. You turned six years old today and I can hardly believe it. My mom always told me the years would start to go by faster once I had children, but I still wasn't prepared for blinking my eyes and finding you so grown up, beautiful, smart, and lovely.
I was truly blessed when you were born Mother's Day weekend six years ago. I had no idea what motherhood was all about, but I was ready to get my on-the-job training from you.
At 6 weeks you got colic and we would sit and rock or stand and walk all over the house. Crying together. You cause you couldn't help it and me cause I couldn't help you.
At three months you started to smile and sleep through the night. I thought an angel had come in the middle of the night and swiped my little demon screamer for a cherub baby full of giggles and love. Now I still see the demon shoot from those eyes like daggers when you don't get your way... but mostly you are a sweet girl that wants to please everyone with your smile and witty personality.
Did you know your first word was at 4 months old? I am not kidding. You would point and say "DA" for dog everytime our dog Shiner walked into the room. Barely holding your head steady, and already you were communicating with us. By 6 months you had "Da da" "Mamamama" and "no" down. By a year old you could say three word sentances. People we met out in public were amazed by your big blue eyes and vocabulary.
When I was 6 months pregnant with your brother, we would be waiting for a seat in the restaurant and you would introduce me to the other people in the waiting area. "Hello, my name is Jenna. My favorite color is red. This is my Mommy, Miranda, she has my baby broda in her tummy. She's not fat." Everyone would giggle at you and ask how old you were, thinking her were just small for your age, as you had such maturity. When I shrugged and said "She isn't quite two yet." .... well let's just say I think a few people thought I was lying. And others were shocked into silence. Some would look at their own child that was near the same age with a look that said "Why aren't you talking as good as her?"
And you haven't shut up since. You watch the television and tell me "Mom, I don't think this show is appropriate for Nate." Or you will start a sentance with "Well Mom, TECHNICALLY, it's _____" fill in your very forthright opinion on said topic.
Everyone at your school has nicknamed you Hannah Montana. At first I thought it was because of your intense obsession with the fourteen year old. But I am beginning to wonder if it isn't because you act a bit like you are fourteen already yourself.
You aren't only smart, you are athletic. You were throwing a ball to us before you could sit up. You are only six, but you have mastered roller skating, riding your new big girl bike, and two-wheel scooter (The Razor) and are the star in your danceclass. I honestly don't think there is ANYTHING you couldn't do if you tried. And I am not just saying that because I am your Mom.
One thing I love about you is your warm presence and superb manners. You know all your classmates parents names and greet them everyday when they bring in and pick up thier children. You say things like "It's nice to meet you", "May I have ____", "Please", "Thank you", "That means so much to me", "May I be excused?".... all without prompting or reminding. It makes me swell with pride to see your empathy and consideration for others... whether it's to make your brother laugh when he cries, or when you give me a big hug when I do. Your heart is so open and loving to everyone you meet... I just pray no one ever takes advantage of that to the point you stop being that way.
And even as grown up as you are... you are still my baby. I'll let you in on a secret... as much as I fuss about you staying in your bed at night... I secretly love when you climb into bed with me and wrap your arm around me in the middle of the night. Sometimes I wake up in my big lonely bed by myself and am kinda sad that you didn't come. I know these days won't last forever, and I am trying to remember to cherish each and every cuddle.
When you are tired, sick or hurt and you come to me with your sad eyes, crying for "Mommy"... I am so blessed to be the person you always look for and need most. Everyday I thank God for that feeling of joy and pride you give me. I pray that he protects you and never lets you hurt anymore than you need to.
Thank you for six amazing years being your Mommy, my sweet JennaBug. Don't grow up too fast, as I am enjoying you so much right now.
Love,
Mommy
Today Mariah and I made our last car payment on our 2005 Kia Sorrento. Finally!!! We are free of a car payment! What a load off. And it also helps that we got a small bonus from work today as well.
To the good stuff. I had an excellent week running. I've only got in 35 miles so far this week, but it's been good. I took Sunday completely off. I ran a recovery run on Monday, a tempo run on Tuesday, recovery run Wednesday, another tempo run on Thursday (8 miles in 52:16 with the last mile in 5:57, with a tail wind, but hey). Then a good 8 miles easy tonight. And all with doing the Octane during lunch each day. Tomorrow we leave for Kourtney's soccer tournament. I will attempt to do a speedwork session at one of the local high schools and use my new racing flats.
Also this week, my 1994 Toyota Corolla (which we've had paid off for 8 years now, yes!) rolled over to 140,000 miles.
Lastnight Erik totally blew it on Survivor. Dumb ass. Sorry Erik. I was really rooting for you. S'well.
Here's a pic of me on the Speedway around the 7 mile mark at the Mini
My friend sent this to me today. It made me cry.
---------------------------------------------
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in
their arms, wiping up puke laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry
Kool-Aid saying, 'It's okay honey, Mommy's here' . Who have sat in rocking
chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair
and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween
costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the
mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on
their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at
football, hockey or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of
their cars, so that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?' they
could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' and mean
it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and
swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream
before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize
how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained
all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but
just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read 'Goodnight, Moon' twice a night for a year.
And then read it again. 'Just one more time.'
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their
shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for
Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their
daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice
calls 'Mom?' in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at
home -- or even away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with
stomachaches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only
to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick
them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the
words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year
olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the
mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their
TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and
now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good Mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook
dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or
daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very
first time?
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to
put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to
hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?
Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear
news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young
mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home
mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers
without
This is for you all. For all of us.
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every
day that we love them. And pray.
Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.
'Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall.'
Please pass this to a wonderful mother you know.
(I just did)
If you send this to just one person, it should make it all the way around
the world by Mother's Day.
I'm off today so I ventured near the track to run errands. The key word there is "track" ... It's only practice and everything jammed up. Grrrr ....
Cool!
Have you ever snapped a picture of something with your cell phone so you'd remember it?
Have you ever bookmarked a site so you'd remember it?
Did you remember that picture or that bookmark? Did you have it with you when you needed it?
Seems like with Evernote you won't have to worry about that. It will all be stored in one place. Easily accessible and bookmarked and tagged and ever translated into readable text. I can't wait for my beta invitation.
Thanks Grace for turning me onto this site for the video!
My first baby was born six years ago tomorrow. I plan to write her a letter later today... so keep posted. For now, enjoy the pictures in her honor.
Those of you with babies/toddlers now... realize how quickly it goes by and cherish each moment.
Those with grown children... don't remind me... I really do know. Where is the pause button?
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