If You've Ever Eaten a Finger Sandwich ..

I'm not a big fan of either rap or alcohol (I know: how very square of me), but this commercial for Smirnoff Raw Tea is one of the tastiest bits I've ever seen! You'd be laughing too if you heard "Martha's Vineyard" and "hollaback" used in the same sentence. A few more lines to wet your whistle:

"No one's hotter than a New England gangsta"

"Fine tea in the parlor makes the ladies holler"

"Haters like to clown our Ivy League educations, but they're just jealous 'cuz our families run the nation."

Click here for your exclusive access to the Tea Partay, yo!

Christmas Cards and Sadness

"The first divorce in the world may have been a tragedy, but the hundred-millionth is not necessarily one."
The late Anatole Broyard, literary critic for the New York Times

This being my first blog in almost two months, I realize it should be light-hearted, and I intended it to be. But I experienced something tonight that I feel compelled to write about, and the other thoughts - of belated holiday cheer, a recounting of our recent bed & breakfast stay, renewed energy for 2007 - will have to wait.

Tonight I've been tying up the loose ends of our Christmas correspondence. One thing led to another, as it often does when I'm working on a "simple" project, and I came upon a box full of cards, letters and photos we received in 2004 and 2005. I decided, before simply tossing them, to indulge my rarely-emerged nostalgic side and read them all one more time.

I came across one from a woman who attended the youth group that Steve and I ran when we were in New York. A quirky, funny girl who, admittedly, was one of our pets. How things change! She has since married and had two children, and we kept abreast of her new life only through our annual Christmas card exchange.

I recalled as I reread their 2004 letter my feelings of shock to hear about her health scare that summer, a lingering sickness that they feared was leukemia but miraculously cleared. I then caught sight of what was to be their family website, realizing I had never checked it out.

Tonight I finally did. Written by her husband, it is a poetic and mysterious site which darkly hinted that she was no longer a part of their lives. "A new life", it said. "Soon, just me and the boys." My first thought was that she had, in fact, been truly ill and died. Or had been sick for all this time and was finally losing her battle with life, a fact he was coming to terms with for the sake of their children. How could we have not heard? Nausea crept over me.

Probing further, desperate for answers, I found an angry piece written about Christmas cards; how she hated sending them, how she ridiculed his desire to do so. The piece sputtered on about how she made taking pictures for these cards a miserable experience, and vacation a miserable experience, and most things a miserable experience. He spoke of vowing to never do these things with her again. His rant trailed off at the mention of vows ...

Divorce, not death. Though never said outright, it must be. She remains unnamed throughout his site, not much is said of her at all (certainly nothing pleasant), and she is conspicuously missing from all pictures.

It seems a logical conclusion when I summarize it, but the tone of the site is sad, almost devasted, and it reminds me more of mourning than anything.

And yet, that's how it must be. Divorce. A death of something. A period of mourning. Broken vows. Broken hearts. Lost dreams. Lost ways.

In retrospect, I knew this was coming. Not the end of their marriage, in particular. But the end for someone. I have thought often, inexplicably, over the last couple of weeks about the possibility of someone we know - friends, family - divorcing. I expected it to be someone we're closer to. I wondered how it would go - where they would each live, who would keep in touch with us.

There is a part of me - the same part that had this "premonition", of sorts - that wants to find her. To make contact with her. To let her know that she doesn't need to look at us as her former youth leaders who might judge her or condemn her for the "sin" of divorce. To assure her that we're so much more than that. That she's so much more to us than a divorcee.

Unfortunately, I only have her former address, where it appears she no longer lives. Even more unfortunately, I sent her and her family a Christmas card on Friday. If her husband has not received it yet, addressed to the two of them, he will soon.

We don't really know him. We met him once, shortly after they started dating. They met online, and we were dubious. (Yet who were we to judge; we who got engaged three weeks after our first date?) But now I felt compelled to make contact with him, as well, as he was about to get bombarded with our ignorant, cheerful Christmas greetings. So I sent him an email. Perhaps mostly because I couldn't find her. A brief one, extending our apologies for not knowing about the change in family dynamic, and for the inadvertent pain or hurt our card may cause.

Did I go too far? No farther than sending the card, I suppose. I don't expect to hear from him. I don't expect him to forward our card to her. I don't expect anything but to be sad about this for some time.

I have never before associated Christmas cards with sadness. But for our friend and her husband, their chasmic approach to Christmas cards became the parallel for all the ways their marriage was miserable, and all the ways she kept him from joy. Their 2004 card that I read with happy expectations tonight led me to a well of sadness. And the card I innocently sent the other day will inevitably bring him to the same place.

Having taken Anatole Broyard's quote out of context, he may well be saying that the effects of divorce on humankind overall, in this day and age, is no longer a tragedy. But in our own personal life dramas, I'm quite certain it still is.

#64: Pet Beeker & Crawford

For years, when I have felt overwhelmed, I have turned to the coping mechanism of sleep. When I worked at 911/Police Dispatch, I learned a vital new skill for being overwhelmed: pick the most important task, complete it, move on to the next. Repeat until the chaos dies down .. because eventually it will.

I often try to employ this new, more productive coping skill in my home life. Right now, I have a list a mile long of things to accomplish before November 18th (the date that I'm hosting an event at our home). About an hour ago, I found myself sitting on my couch, frozen with indecision and an utter lack of motivation.

I tried to put myself in "dispatch" mode .. to no avail. I didn't want to paint. I didn't want to shop. I absolutely did not want to do one more load of laundry. Unlike dispatching - where inaction can have disastrous results - all of those things could wait. Still, they niggled at my conscience, my to-do list calling to me from the kitchen - making my brain beg me for sleep, even though I wasn't tired.

I finally opted for neither work nor sleep; instead, I decided it was time to take the focus off of Ronda for a while. Truly, nothing brings me greater joy than making a difference in someone's life (or even their day) .. and luckily I know an incredibly easy way to do that each day. I simply clicked on the following websites and in less than 5 minutes, helped to accomplish some pretty amazing things.

The Hunger Site ... where, after clicking today, I was told: "Your click helps feed the hungry with the value of 1.1 cups of staple food. Today, you and others have generated the value of 90,810 cups of food."

The Rainforest Site ... where, after clicking today, I was told: "Your click has funded the preservation of 11.4 square feet of endangered rainforest. Today, you and others have protected the value of 579,883 square feet of land."

The Animal Rescue Site ... where, after clicking today, I was told: "Your click provided the value of .6 bowls of food and care to a rescued animal in a shelter or sanctuary. Today, you and others have generated the value of 50,550 bowls of food."

The Literacy Site ... where, after clicking today, I was told: "Your click, along with others' today, helps children in need discover the joy of books. Today, you and others have generated the value of 468 books for children in need."

The Breast Cancer Site ... where, after clicking today, I was told: "Your click, along with others today, will fund free mammograms for women in need! On Nov.03, you and others who clicked on the "Fund Free Mammograms" button funded 12.7 mammograms for underprivileged women."

The Child Health Site ... where, after clicking today, I was told: "Your click, along with others' today, provides basic but critical health services to more than 1,000 children. Each click helps prevent life-threatening diseases, restore vision to blind children, and enable child amputees to walk. Today, you and others have helped 867 children with your daily click."

Ultimately, not one thing on my to-do list will take only five minutes to accomplish. But in that amount of time, incredible things - all infinitely more important than uncut coupons - were! And all without being the least bit overwhelming.

Ahhh. I really do feel much better. Maybe, since I'm spreading the love, I'll go pet the cats for a while. That's gotta be somewhere on that long list ...

How Do You Spell R-E-L-I-E-F ?

I'm willing to bet that I think about babies more than any other childfree woman out there.

I'd love to claim that my obsession is due to the fact that I think often of the wonderful women in my life who recently had or will be having a baby (which IS true) .. but that only explains it in part. The other reason is a man named Jerry.

I belong to an email list called The Childfree List (because it's nice to know we're not the only ones out there). Today, a woman wrote a message asking for advice: she and her decidedly CF boyfriend are talking of marriage; she has seesawed about having children but is feeling the pressure to make a decision. In her own words:

"My boyfriend has pointed out that many divorces are a result of one person wanting children when the other does not. He's asked me to decide whether or not I want children before we decide about getting married, since it would seem pointless to get married if I want children .. and we get divorced in a few years because of that."

Jerry Steinberg, the "Founding Non-Father of NO KIDDING!" (the international social club for childless and childfree couples and singles), gave her the following advice.

"People often ask me for help in deciding whether they should have children, and the best advice I have come up with so far is this:

"At least 20 times a day for at least a week, ask yourself, 'How would having a child change what I am doing right now?' Ask it when you wake up, when you eat, when you talk on the phone, when you read the newspaper, when you exercise, when you go to the bathroom, when you relax, when you go to bed, etc., etc.

"Then determine whether most of the changes would be welcomed or resented."

This is not the first time I've heard Jerry give this advice, and I certainly didn't hear it before resolving the "kids/no kids" debate in my heart and mind. But I find myself asking it 20 times a day - at least! - anyway. The answer? A predictable "resentment". Or more accurately, "relief". Relief, when I think about how painting my fireplace would have taken even longer than 5 hours if I had children. Relief, when I can put my cats in the garage for the night so I can get a good night's sleep. Relief, when I think about bedwetting and hear about school violence and see girls' fashion and worry about the effects of overpopulation on the environment ..

I think this is a fascinating exercise even if someone is absolutely positively convinced that babies are in their future. Though it may not change their minds, it might help prepare parents-to-be for some of the demands and changes they will be facing.

What do you think?

Pregnancy Makes Your Brain Shrink

Rest assured, my pregnant friends, and be sure to let your husbands know: "Pregnancy Brain" is a real phenomenon! Click to read this short, empowering article: Pregnancy Makes Your Brain Shrink

(And here I always thought brain shrinkage is what caused women to want to become pregnant in the first place! Tee hee!)

;-)

The Wedding Crashers

Greetings from our exotic living room! Having a wonderful time; wish you were here!

Last night was my cousin Katie's wedding. In typical Steve and Ronda fashion, we forgot to bring our camera, so we missed many photo ops at the gorgeous Lakeside Gardens, complete with swans. A quick snapshot with the mosquitoes in our living room will have to substitute.

It was a lovely outdoor ceremony, and though it was a bit chilly at 7 o'clock, the rain from earlier had blessedly stopped. I was honored to be part of the ceremony by providing some of the music. My marionette-playing-banjo-ventriloquism act was a hit! The highlight of the ceremony for me, however, was hearing about how Katie and Justin met; rather, how Justin stalked Katie until she noticed him. Or something like that. (Welcome to the family!)

During the reception, I decided to liven things up even more - I went up with all the single ladies and fought my way into catching the bouquet. Then I went up with all the single men and muscled my way into catching the garter. Okay, I did neither. But the "Mission Impossible" music playing during the merriment made me wish I had. Predictably, we instead sat and enjoyed the company and the delicious food, notably the Brie en Croute (best pronounced with an over-the-top twangy Southern accent). It was great seeing family and friends from the Midwest.

There were many toasts during the reception, but my uncle Tom's was particularly stirring. I always forget how poetic and articulate he is. As he spoke of Katie's essence and how everything she does in life is a dance, I realized just how much we've missed by not spending more time with her since her move to Oregon. Thankfully - God willing - we have more time with her, and now we have the added blessing of Justin.

Congratulations to you both.

"Wonderful" News

I started a blog a couple of weeks ago where I was going to post a picture of a funky dinosaur and ramble about how I'm a Postablogslackasaurus .. but I never finished it (although I'm sure the opportunity to do so will arise someday). Who says procrastination doesn't pay off in the form of actual newsworthiness?!?

Steve and I have become an uncle and aunt again .. the first baby to arrive from Ronda's side of the family.

Mirana (meaning "wonderful" or "grace") Sophia was born to Ronda's sister Sonja and her husband Fares on Thursday, September 28th at 2:07 am. She weighed in at 7 lbs 3 oz and stretched out to 21 inches long. (As I know nothing about babies, these measurements are either remarkable, or remarkably normal. I would ask my sister, but, well ... she seems to have lost all objectivity. Go figure.)

Mom and baby will most likely be leaving the hospital tomorrow, and both parents are just a little bit excited to begin their life with her.

I figured some baby pictures might be more appreciated than the dinosaur clipart previously mentioned, so go ahead - feast your eyes on our newest niece:

Deliciousness & Nautilusness

Thursday the 17th was our 10 year wedding anniversary. Steve had to work, so we celebrated this weekend with a quick trip up to Seattle.

Our drive up on Monday was uneventful. We mourned the move of our friends Mike and Crystal as we passed their old exit in Vancouver, cursed the couple that bought their home enabling the move, and considered committing acts of vandalism to the home. Or maybe that was just me.

After arriving at Chambered Nautilus, our bed and breakfast inn, we took a brief stroll through the neighborhood. Within walking distance of the University of Washington campus, the street was a mix of beautiful old homes - some turned fraternity/sorority house - and rather unattractive student housing. We passed a granola girl having a yard sale. She had the most gorgeous huge dog with her, guarding some nasty dining room chairs and other random items for sale. She reminded me of the hippies that would hang out at the University of Oregon campus in Eugene, neither students nor employed, begging for money. "If you're so hungry, eat your dog", people would quip testily at them.

We walked further. Frat boys with no shirts on were spraying each other with a garden hose in their front lawn and screaming like little girls. Broken glass covered a side street .. discarded vodka bottles? victim windows from car prowls? A stairway covered in Sharpie graffiti (collegiate witticisms such as "Bush sucks") led to a community garden. And on the sidewalk, some coins. 35 cents! I bent to pick them up, then looked around sheepishly to see if someone was snarking at me through a window. Glued to the ground, those blasted coins! I wondered how many other spendthrifts had been conned. Steve laughed happily at my expense.

Upon recommendation, we ate dinner at the Metropolitan Grill. "Steaks that melt in your mouth", we were promised. The Met (as it is supposedly called by those in the know) lived up to the hype, but I was wooed less by the steak than by the twice baked potatoes that Steve ordered. He gave me a bite. My eyes opened wide with surprise - I have never felt this way about a potato before! He offered me a second bite. My eyes narrowed seductively. "Hello, deliciousness", I murmered as I brought the fork to my mouth. "Helloooo", waved a bored and neglected Steve from across the table.

We gorged ourselves on dinner and dessert, a giant tower of carrot cake with buttercream frosting and vanilla ice cream. Food coma set in early and it took us far longer than it should have to find our car in the underground parking garage. We returned to our well-appointed room (the Crow's Nest Chamber, if you're interested in seeing some pictures) and .. skipping to breakfast, we met a gal from New Mexico, which gave us further opportunity to curse Mike and Crystal in Arizona. Funny .. she and her husband were vacationing together in Seattle, but they traveled separately - she by plane, he by motorcycle. She was originally from the East Coast (Boston area), and quite a talker .. so the travel arrangements made more sense after that.

On Tuesday, we went to the Woodland Park Zoo. What an incredibly beautiful place! The habitats were so lush, and we saw quite a bit more active wildlife than usual. Orangutans appeared to interact with us through the glass barrier, the giraffes literally crossed our paths when they were moved from the Savannah to their pens, we fed small tropical birds from our hands, and a lion roared for several seconds when we were nearby. Granted, it seemed more like he was hacking up a giant furball than trying to impress us with his ferociousness, but it was still infinitely more interesting than seeing him sleep on a big rock.

That evening we took in the Yankees/Mariners game at Safeco field. A crushing loss - the Mariners hit a game winning home run in the bottom of the ninth - made redemptive by the fact that a) it shut up the couple of overly obnoxious Yankee fans near us, and b) the Yankees turned around and won the following night when several of Steve's coworkers (all Mariners' fans) were present.

We left Wednesday after another scrumptious breakfast and conversation with a military couple from the Washington, D.C. area. They were well-traveled people who shamed us by remembering and using our names throughout the conversation, reacted badly to Steve's suggestion that every true baseball fan should admit that they'd love to have a George Steinbrenner as their team owner, and convinced me that if they could easily ski the Swiss Alps I could perilously ski Mt. Hood this winter.

On the way home, we hit the exceptional Museum of Glass gift store in Tacoma and picked up "Jupiter", a new addition to our collection of Celestial Series weights. We now have three - one for each visit up to the Seattle area. It should only take us another hundred years or so to complete the collection.

Our last stop was Ikea, where we hoped to score big on some new furnishings for the home but only did so-so. Significant purchases included a new TV stand (so we could reconfigure the furniture in our living room and consequently entertain more comfortably) and a display case for our previously mentioned glass weight collection (so they can stop collecting dust on the office desk). We feasted on Swedish meatballs and lingonberry sauce and sighed contently, basking in the knowledge that Portland will be getting its own Ikea in 2007.

Not the most glamorous way to celebrate 10 years of marriage, but neither Steve nor I are all that glamorous. Simple, happy, best friends still in love .. yes.

Missing/Endangered: Tweetie Bird

I had my first paying gig as a home stager this weekend. Ah yes, I can hear you: "a who-wha?" A pillow fluffer. A curtain preener. Someone who comes in to make homes for sale all "ooh" and "ahh".

Okay, for a slightly more technical definition, check out my website: www.room-to-move.net. If you like the tasty little sample picture and want to gorge on some fun "Before & Afters", you'll want to check out my Photo Gallery page while you're there. (Isn't that bed just yummm?)

I sent a letter to the realtor who helped us purchase our current home, letting her know that I started my own staging business. As luck would have it (lucky for me, anyway, not so much for her), she just lost her best stager and had a house in desperate need. It's been on the market 2-1/2 months, and has had 3 or 4 seriously interested parties who kept saying "this is one of our top two choices". In each case, the buyers chose the other home.

It's a nice house - two years old, in good condition with some great features - but there was nothing really memorable about it, much less "wow". After six hours of staging on Sunday (preceded by an unmentionable number of hours spent shopping for props), I think "wow" was achieved. The realtor and homeowners were both thrilled, anyway.

I was pretty pleased myself. I felt a bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Hopefully it will now sell quickly, the true measure of success. I feel like a million bucks even without that affirmation though .. the homeowners told the realtor that I was "delightful" and completely dissolved their preconceived image of me as some "hoity toity decorator". (I know, far-fetched and laughable! The delightful part, that is. Heh.) They asked if I ever help people get set up in their new homes as well, so hopefully there's another gig lurking in my near future.

Now, if I could get a job a week, I'd be the dog who swallowed the cat. (Add Sylvester to that missing/endangered list, why dontcha.)

Ode to an Odor

Something stinks. It really reeks.
Of the litter box I do not speak.
Nay, something else, wretched and fowl -
It makes upon my face a scowl.

It turns my insides inside out.
It no doubt makes me pout and shout.

This dreadful stench. It has a name.
On dear friends it's staked its claim.
Their fragrance which was once so sweet
Will soon wilt in the desert heat.

Arizona! Oh, heinous state
I hate you - rate you not so great!

Why must you lure my friends away?
(How can I postpone moving day?)
I'd shake my fist skyward, I suppose
If I didn't need it to plug my nose.

Farewell, then, if you must go
I know you need the dough to flow

Mike, Crystal, Elliot - we'll really miss you.
Good grief! Someone hand me a tissue!
I know - I mustn't be a hater.
Good luck! God speed! We'll see you later!

___________________________________

Mike, Crystal and Elliot's Blog:

http://www.3catsandababy.blogspot.com/

Two Snots Don't Make a Right

Oh, me and my quick temper. When will I learn? Forgive me, Lord!

So if you read my last blog, you know I posted some shades on Craigslist. They were titled "Room-Darkening Roll Up Blinds", and since I probably wasn't calling them exactly the right thing, the first part of my description read, "We can't remember what these are called, exactly .. but we have two vinyl roll-up blinds ..."

I get an email from a gal tonight that says, simply (unedited by me):

"there called shades"

That's it. A little rude, I think.

But what got me all fired up was her signature:

"No Jesus, No Peace .. Know Jesus, Know Peace"

Now, some people would just roll their eyes and think "whatever" and click 'delete'. Some nicer, calmer, more rational people. Some might even smile at the signature line and with a contented sigh say, "Yes, indeed". Some holier people. Me? Noooooooo ... I immediately wonder what other kinds of bitty messages she's sending to people that rub them the wrong way, not only about her, but about Jesus. I start steaming about Christians who do more harm in this world than good, and I .... I fired off an equally hypocritical message to her. Sigh.

Here it is, I confess:

"And the first word in your sentence should have been 'they're', the contraction for 'they are'.

Are you interested in them? Or are you just trying to be helpful?

Because how you're coming off is snotty and hypocritical, a poor Christian example of the loving Son of God who you are apparently professing to know."

Gulp. For those of you that are the praying types, will you do this for me?

1 - Pray that she doesn't hunt me down and kill me.
2 - Pray that I would learn my lesson, bite my tongue, sit on my hands, count to ten, hide in my bedroom closet and do whatever else I need to do to get my lightening quick temper under control.

After all .. if I know Jesus, shouldn't I also know peace .. within myself?

One Man's Junk ..

Not that kind of junk, sickos.

If you ever want to feel popular, post something "For Sale" on Craigslist. Better yet, post something for "Free". Or be really wild and crazy (read: stupid) and do what I did: post three things at once. Oy!

We listed our old sliding glass door for $100. (Well, I did. Steve is at work and will probably have something to say tomorrow about the low price. What can I say? I thought it was a good compromise between the others I saw listed from $0-$300+.) I have a guy who wants to come pick it up tomorrow night and another gal calling herself "a little old lady who needs it more than he does" .. who just might show up here tomorrow night and beat him with a cane. Oops - another email just came in.

This is more exciting than the last few minutes of an eBay auction!

We (I) also listed a couple of roll-up shades ($10 each or two for $15, what a bargain, eh?) that we installed as a temporary fix when we first moved in (as the house was sans window coverings). Less of a hot commodity, apparently .. but one guy says it sounds like just what he needs. Neat.

The kid that gets around, however, is our pile of river rock that we're offering for free. I thought I was going to have to BEG people to take this off our hands .. but I got 7 responses in less than an hour! Vultures! I love the bribes people offer up: "I'm not one of those flaky Craigslisters who doesn't show up." "I'm in Troutdale too so I can be there lickity-split". Notice not ONE of them has tried to differentiate themselves from the crowd by saying "I'll give you five bucks for the whole pile."

Yes, Tom Peterson (and Gloria too!), free IS a very good price!

This could be addicting. Why, oh why, have I been so diligent about donating unused items to Goodwill?!? I could have gotten money for those things .. had people fighting over me - er, them ......

Do you think I should make sure there's some furniture left in the house by the time Steve gets home? (If I never post again, it's because I've sold the computer.)

Oooh, gotta run .. two new mail messages in my inbox!

- PS to Mike G - Makes me laugh when I think of you thinking about Tom Peterson's junk right now. Teehee!

Baby Rabies

Here's a fun piece of trivia for you to pull out when the party conversation gets dull: Who campaigned for Senior Class President of Faribault Senior High in 1993? Ronda, that's who. My campaign manager was an off-beat theater/band guy named Pete who never quite fit into any of the typical high school social categories and was widely appreciated in the student body. He dressed in all black for his campaign speech and, in a magnificent imitation of Hannibal Lector, threatened to eat people's livers if they didn't vote for me.

Ah Pete, whatever happened to you?

My speech, slightly less colorful or frightening, was more of an anti-campaign speech, which are typically full of idle promises about what one would accomplish during their term if elected. I pretty much told the student body what I WOULDN'T be doing. (Ronda-ry, Ronda-ry, quite contrary.)

All that to say this: in the following blog, I am NOT saying that I don't like your kids, or even kids and babies in general. I am NOT saying that. Clear enough?

When I was in my twenties, I thought that my peers were pretty darn baby crazy.

I had nooooo idea what was awaiting me in my thirties.

Baby rabies. Women, foaming at the mouth, at the mere mention, sight (or most likely, smell) of a baby.

It's gonna be a long decade.

Most of you know that Steve and I don't have and don't want kids. We're what's known as "childfree", or "CF". (Baby rabid women may have another name for us, bwaha!) Some people use the term "childless", which infers some sort of loss .. whereas "childfree" resounds as more of a choice.

We knew we were going to be CF when we married almost 10 years ago. We heard a lot of "you'll change your minds" and "you've got plenty of time" and "never say never" during the first few years of our marriage. Other than that, however, there wasn't a lot of pressure to reproduce. We married young, before many of our friends, and no one had really started having kids yet.

Now, however, most of our friends have or intend to have children in the near future. And that's fine. We love our friends and we want them to make choices in their lives that make them happy. We would never dream of trying to convince them to NOT have kids. Well, okay ... maybe a little daydream here or there ..... kidding!

So that's not the issue. And no one is really pressuring us to have kids at this point, either, so that's also not the issue. (I probably spoke too soon: I'm 31 now and some might say I'm RUNNING OUT OF TIME!)

Anyway. Baby rabies. That's the issue. The disease that drives baby-obsessed women completely out of their once fully-functioning minds.

I was at a "girl's night out" earlier this week, hosted by a dear friend and attended by a bunch of women I'd never met before. Nice ladies, all very friendly to me .. until they started talking about their children. "Do you have kids?" a gal asked me a few minutes into the conversation. "No", I answered with a smile. "I'm sorry", she said, and turned back to the other ladies.

She's sorry that I don't have kids? She's sorry because she thinks I can't have kids? She's sorry that she can no longer relate to me and that I'm not worthy of her attention? Huh?

I expect that conversations will hover around topics known to most participants. The stories that followed about feeding dramas and never wearing necklaces/earrings/black shirts around two-year-olds .. well, those were to be expected. It was when the conversation turned to a woman whose "maternal urges are RAGING" that I realized these women were not just mommies, but infected with baby rabies.

She and her husband (let's call him, oh, Bob) have been married three years and have started "discussions" about a baby. Another woman notes that Bob seems to be avoiding her at church .. and is it because he's afraid she's going to try to convince him to have a baby? Titters of laughter circle the room. The woman assures her friend that she's "not imaging things .. Bob really IS avoiding you - and in fact, anyone who will bring up the issue!" Titters of laughter turn into gales, and the conversation quickly degenerates into how he'll change his mind (and how to change his mind), reminders to each other not to stop in for unexpected visits and jokes of "we'll know what you're up to if you don't answer the phone" ... I left the room before I heard if anyone actually encouraged this gal to "oops" her husband.

Does no one even care that Bob might need a little time and space to sort out how he feels about this intensely personal issue? Does Bob's wife ask her friends or family to back off a bit so he doesn't feel like a cornered animal? Forget giving him more time: Is it even a blip on people's radar that Bob might not even WANT a baby?

GAAACKCKCK!

Tonight, I was at a bridal shower. Each torn ribbon symbolized a potential BABY! Each little piece of lingerie was going to ignite the passion to MAKE A BABY! There was even a gift enclosed in a pink bucket with a picture of a baby on it! What the .. aren't we at a WEDDING shower?!? I found myself chanting a calming mantra under my breath, "first comes love, then comes marriage, THEN comes a baby .."

Steve has it easy. Sure, his friends are my friends, and they're all having babies. But men don't obsess the way women do. Men can relax and have fun and tell jokes and play games while women .. sit around with the kids. Or talk about the kids. Completely lose themselves in the kids. Ladies: I'm gonna go chill with the men if you don't give me a break once in a while. (Well, even then, I still might have to play tom-boy for a bit.) Here, use my sleeve: wipe the foam from around your mouth, take a few deep breaths and remember that even though I love you (and your off-spring) unconditionally, I also loved you PRE-BABY.

End of rant.

Oh, and incidentally .. I beat my high school opponent and silenced his rabid fans, who found it appropriate to write "bitch" on my campaign posters. Ahhhh. One of only three distinct memories I have of serving as my Class President. The other two I'll save for another day.

Lebanon (as in the country, for you locals)

Friends that are reading this post may be aware that my sister is married to a Lebanese man. He has many, many friends and family members still in Lebanon, and we are very concerned about the increasing violence that has been occurring there since Wednesday.

I am no lover of politics or the media, and I readily admit that I struggle to grasp both the enormity and the intricacies of conflicts like these.

What is not escaping my attention, however, is the mention of "dozens of Lebanese citizens" dead. Citizens that I pray are not my extended family who have so lavishly accepted my sister as one of their own. Or any of the gracious guests who embraced and kissed us at my sister's wedding. Or the lovely strangers who gave my parents a bowl of fresh grapes after they stopped to admire an arbor growing over their front door. Or the wonderful airport employee who helped Steve and I secure a flight out of Lebanon when we missed our first one due to us drinking in the sights a little too long.

War always breaks my heart. And, right or wrong, I always feel powerless to do anything about it. But this time, in addition to praying for peaceful resolution, I will be sending a quick email to my senators. If you feel so inclined to take either action, I would deeply appreciate it.

I have to. I've toured some of Lebanon's beautiful countryside. I've seen shepherds walking a small herd of goats along the road in the mountains. I've stepped foot into some of the exquisite stone churches there. I've seen their famous and exotic cedars. I've dipped my toes in the warm Mediterranean Sea (see photo above). I've walked through the ruins where paper was invented. I've wandered through downtown Beirut at midnight and been awed at the reconstruction that has occured there since the last war.

If you would like to join me in sending a letter to your senators, you can do so at www.senate.gov. If you're not sure what to say, I can provide you with a copy of what I'll be sending. And if you want to do a bit of reading on the conflict, I've attached an article from CNN online below.

http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/meast/07/13/mideast/index.html

Being Poor

I've been spinning my wheels all night, working on our finances, looking for cheap furniture and part-time jobs on Craigslist, trying to make old furnishings work in our new home .. and generally being frustrated that I can't just go out and buy whatever I darn well please whenever I darn well feel like it.

Spinning those wheels in an attempt to turn straw into gold, I am. How very Rumplestiltskin-esque of me.

I turned back to my pile of paperwork that I abandoned earlier in the day and found an article I had saved from Heifer International's magazine "World Ark" (the May/June 2006 issue). An article that struck me deep the first time I read it, and stopped me in my tracks again tonight.

It's called "Being Poor", by John Scalzi. It can be read in its entirety at www.scalzi.com.
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Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they're what you can afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there's not an $800 car in America that's worth a darn.

Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.

Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so your friends will be ahead of you and won't hear you say "I get free lunch" when you get to the cashier.

Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.

Being poor is hoping your kids don't have a growth spurt.

Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.

Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad, begging him for the child support.

Being poor is not taking the job because you can't find someone you trust to watch your kids.

Being poor is hoping you'll be invited for dinner.

Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.

Being poor is $6 dollars short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.

Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.

Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you're not actually lazy.

Being poor is having to live with choices you didn't know you made when you were 14 years old.

Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.

Being poor is deciding that it's all right to base a relationship on shelter.

Being poor is a cough that doesn't go away.

Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance form a company that takes $250 when the paycheck comes in.

Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.

Never Say Never

I've been deliberating ... to blog or not to blog. Does anyone really care about The Secret Lives of Rolanda and Stuart, aka The Not So Exciting Really Quite Dull But None-The-Less Happy Existence of Ronda and Steve?

And then I wrote a bit in my journal tonight. Hmm, nice to take some time for reflection. And then I posted for the first time in an email mailing list I joined a couple of months ago. Ahh, very therapeutic. Then I got caught up on a couple of friends' blogs and I thought perhaps people might be as interested in us and our comings and goings and musings as we are in theirs.

Perhaps.

So, despite a very recent conversation with Steve where I expressed something along the lines of "I'll never see the need to have my own blog", a-blogging I have gone.

The deliberations turned to more important matters. Blogspot, or MySpace? (I'm sure there are other options out there, but I haven't the least desire to research them.) MySpace seems so high maintenance and .. meh. Blogspot won.

I'm sure it will be quite some time before my blog is everything I ever dreamed possible. Wait, we've already exceeded that. The deliberations will no doubt continue - template, content, links, oh my - and will surpass in importance the original question of, simply, to blog or not to blog.

Stay tuned.