Chicken Noodle Soup

As I sit here eating my chicken noodle soup, grilled cheese sandwich and listening to the end of Caillou (my daughter is watching it while eating her own lunch), I revel in the temporary calm of this meal. We're all sick with a cold this week, including my 2 1/2 month old, so it's been a trying time. As all grilled cheese sandwiches go, the outside crust is yummy and buttery, so I reach for a fancy Poinsetta-printed napkin from the nickel-plated napkin holder that my husband probably thinks is more for decoration than practical purposes and a smile creeps into the corner of my mouth as I think of my grandpa. I suddenly want to eat this meal in the most civilized manner, with a napkin on my lap and leisurely enjoying each bite. As opposed to my garbage disposal impression, which consists of cramming my sandwich and slurping my soup before an offspring needs something from me. When I reached for that napkin, I imagined what my grandpa would have said or reacted to if he'd seen that soup running down my chin while simultaneously preparing another bite to enter my mouth.
He'd have been shocked, he would have made some cutting, intelligent comment that would have made everyone else laugh and left me horrified at my barbarianism. His conclusion of my uncivilized behavior would have branded a Scarlet letter on my forehead in his mind and during each subsequent meal, he'd have watched me out of the corner of his eye to catch me in such low behavior again.
The thing that was so delightful about my grandpa was that he was a very quiet, kind person that had the presence of a giant. It wasn't that you needed his approval, but you definitely didn't want him to notice you doing something he disapproved. I don't know if he meant to, but his reactions to most things during my lifetime with him were the most entertaining past times for my extended family. It was always interesting to find out what Grandpa's reaction was to a behavior more than what behavior had been committed. I doubt he now approves of my dipping my sandwich in my soup either, but I'm not giving that one up when eating at home.
So when I reached for that napkin, I knew that I was really reaching for a memory to come to life before me and to be sitting with my grandpa again. It reminded me that the laziness and lack of civility towards myself was not being true to his influence on my upbringing. And maybe that was his way of letting me know he was looking down from heaven, still watching out of the corner of his eye.

My Mistake

Have you ever given permission for someone to pass along your cell number to a person and then later wished you could turn back time and have initially come up with an excuse to say no? That's how I feel right now about a person that keeps texting me. I'm busy. And yes, I'm too busy to get text messages that don't mean anything to me or don't include me in the obvious laughter that has made this person "Laugh Out Loud(LOL)" and decide to text me in the first place with information that I didn't solicit. Grrrr! Unfortunately, I can't block this person from sending these to my phone because their position is one that must be dealt with delicately. That's all I can say really. Anyway, what really annoys me is that I was planning on writing about my new stainless steel bowl, plus some other kitchenware and how much happiness they've brought me-yes, I said happiness - anyway, instead of writing about something lighthearted and insightful, my afternoon zest has been thwarted by this most recent dumb text message from this person that I mistakenly read. Grrrrr. See, I grrrred again, this isn't good. Now I understand why people lie and say they've moved to Brazil just to get away from someone. Hopefully, this person's interest in me will taper off soon. If not, my frown will remain "side down."

Too negative?

Boy, am I glad that I'm using a computer! I just typed out a couple of sentences and after realizing they were too negative, voila, deleted! Computers are great that way! I really want to write something inspired, as I hope this blog to be most times, but I'm feeling kind of worn down and uninspired. It's not writer's block, it's complainer's block. So I'd like to complain about situations in your life that you're forced to sit through because you're being polite. Earlier this evening, I was hounded with questions about why I chose this or decided that or why I didn't do it that way, and I just wanted to scream, "Lay off! Because of this and that and they had no openings and we decided this instead of that! And it was 2 years ago and I've moved on!" Sheesh! Actually, it was as though I were talking to my mother! Don't get me wrong, mothers are great, but they also don't let up and they think they're being clever when they "suggest" something to you 5 times, but in different verbiage each time. Like you're going to have some epiphany that 5th time and succumb to their bidding. "Wow, I never thought of it that way, I'm going to suddenly change my mindset regarding this situation!" But this person was not my mother, so she didn't even get the daughter thought response of, "Bite your tongue, bite your tongue, she's your mother and she's only trying to help. No matter how old you are, she'll always have 'suggestions' for your life." I mean, I find it exhausting to just think of my own mother asking me these questions, so you can imagine how it felt to be interrogated by someone else. Sigh! See what I mean, this post if far too negative, but at least I'm not establishing my blog as too happy-go-lucky! So even though I really want to delete this entire post, I'm going to leave it for posterity and the proof that I really did get down to the computer and "write something, damn it!"

Who, Me?

I did it! I'm here! Somehow with an 8 week old baby and a toddler I was able to make it to the basement to fulfill the task that I've been thinking about for a couple months now. My blog. "Blogs" or "blogging" has been an intriguing thought for me for while now, but I wasn't sure if it would cost anything or if anyone would have any interest in what I have to say. So we'll see. It'll probably just be an outlet for me to express myself in a literary way(ha, I'm claiming to be writing literature! Well, aren't I full of myself!). But in reality it will really be comparable to my singing "Memory" from Cats while sitting behind the wheel of the car in the garage so my parents won't hear me. I was always scared to death of anyone, especially my parents, hearing me learn to control my voice. Anyway, this blog is just my little fantasy world that I have something to say and somebody out there wants to hear it. Like I said, we'll see.