ah-HAH! I learned today just how anal retentive I am. Apparently enough to encourage other people to become just as big of a nerd. No offense to you, boothead. this post is way more about me than it is about you. i’m actually proud of you.
And hey, if you want to have a voice, you’ve got to use it. oh yeah. and go vote while you’re at it.
Judah needs new shoes. A size five, open-toe sandal to be exact, preferably in brown, but i’ll take what I can get. We don’t have size five, open-toed sandals. We have size fours, and her toes are hanging over the edge quite nicely lately. We have a size six, but her poor little feet keep coming out of them.
So I took Judah to Payless today. They’re having a sale. We went straight to the infant/toddler shoe section, which is grouped size 1-4, 5, 6, 7, and so on. There were lots of sandals, in many styles and colors in the 1-4 section, and a couple in each size 6 and above, but alas, nothing in a 5.
While I was vainly trying to find a shoe (plural) for my daughter. Judah was running from section to section, eyes and mouth wide open, saying, “shoes! shoes! shoes!” She reached for box after box, pulling out shoes to her liking. Her faves were a size 3 purple baby mary jane. She then took off to the men’s section to look at work boots, while I trailed after her, reboxing everything.
I imagine what it must have looked like from her size — all those walls and walls that go on forever and ever, filled with (glorious!) boxes and boxes of shoes.
She probably thought she had died and gone to heaven.
on another note, i’m extremely disappointed in the ability of both payless and target to carry solid white and solid black toddler shoelaces, not to mention any size five sandals (this is texas! it’s only september! she doesn’t need faux-fur-trimmed boots yet! or ever!). everything has glitter or some cartoon character pimping herself on it. yuck.
While dozens upon dozens of small children are being lowered in the ground, Russia has declared two national days of mourning for today and tomorrow. I’ve decided to mourn with them, and in doing so have opted to cover my head. This may not make sense to you, but I hope on some level, it does.
To those of you in Russia who have lost your sons and daughters, your brothers and sisters, your mothers and fathers, your husbands and wives, my heart and my tears are with you.
Abba, may you be a father to the fatherless and a mother to the motherless, a source of love for those who have lost loved ones, and a friend to the lonely. Let the mourners find comfort in you. May they beat their fists against your chest and allow you to feel their pain with them. Be their source of hope, their place of refuge, and their outlet for pain and agony. Let them feel your presence and your empathy. Touch them with your love.
I realized a couple of days ago that this will be my first Labor Day in years to have off from a job. I guess that’s what happens when you work service industry jobs. A couple of years ago, while driving to work on Labor Day at 5 in the morning, I noticed that the only other people up at that hour on that day were going to low-wage jobs — it was us — the coffee makers and donut sellers and dry cleaners and maids and cashiers and tellers, and all of us whose jobs are a service to the white collar types.
joshua worked at Cafe Brazil that same day, and while he was refilling a man’s iced tea, the man said, “isn’t it great that everyone has the day off today?” Bless my husband for not pouring tea in the man’s lap.
Maybe I’m wrong, but didn’t Labor Day start so the working class could have a day off to enjoy their families? Why is it that this holiday has been taken away from the working class again? So i have a proposal.
This Labor Day, don’t do anything and don’t go anywhere that would require a minimum-wage (or slightly above) worker to have to work. That means: skip your coffee for a day. Don’t drop off your laundry. Eat at home. Drink at home. Get gas and and your groceries on Sunday. Insist that we ALL should have this day off.
Pass it on.
found this on sarah jane’s blog:
One of my childless friends has come down with a severe case of “baby fever”. Uh-oh! Move over mamas, is there room for one more in this leaky lifeboat? I tried to explain to her what it means to become a mother. I’m still not sure whether I was trying to rescue or recruit but I told her that having a child is the worst thing that can ever happen to a woman. And that it’s also the best thing that can ever happen to a woman. She stood there and stared at me as if I were from another planet (which I may very well be but that’s a topic for another day).
So I told her that having a baby would ruin her life. No really, I’m serious. I said look at your body. Your clean neat apartment. Consider your career. Your bank account. Your address book full of fun party pals. Your stylish wardrobe. Weekend mornings sleeping in. Your hobbies. Your peace and quiet. Your sanity. Your identity as a competent intelligent woman. Take a good long look at all of that. Your life as you know it. Because as soon as you have a baby, it will all be GONE GONE GONE!!! Destroyed! Demolished! Your life will be a pile of dust at your feet.
And then you will have to completely rebuild it from scratch on 2 hours sleep with a squalling demanding varmit balanced on your hip, crusty dishes piled up to your eyeballs, waist-deep in dirty laundry, with puke on your shirt, Cheerios in your hair, your husband trailing after you whining for sex, bill collectors at the door, and your mother-in-law on the phone listing the top 10 ways you’re spoiling that baby. (You wonder if she’s referring to her baby or yours.) And it’s not even 8 AM yet. Get a puppy instead. They’re easier to pottytrain.
paragraph breaks mine, to make it easier to read. but you should go read the rest of it. you’ll love it. especially all you single friends of mine who tell me judah makes you want to have kids…
via uncreative laura:
“I didn’t know male employees at Gap flirted with girls.”