We had a pretty uneventful weekend around here, helped along by stormy skies and bitter cold that just made me want to curl up and stay inside. Mostly I read books, looked at sewing patterns, and played games on my Kindle while McGyver watched a little Nascar and the kids jockeyed for turns on the computer. Saturday evening, I continued my new tradition of making homemade doughnuts for St. Patrick's Day. Since we don't do much else to celebrate -- I'm the only one here who likes corned beef and cabbage, and to be honest St. Paddy's Day has lost some of its luster since an intrepid genealogist on my mom's side of the family found out we're actually Scottish, not Irish (they'll never take our FREEDOOOOOOOM!) -- making doughnuts with green sprinkles seems like a nice ritual to acknowledge the day. This year, I tried a different recipe that turned out to be a revelation. I mean, we're talking light, fluffy, melt-in-your-mouth, Krispy Kreme-good doughnuts. They even keep well, instead of tasting like cardboard the next day like last year's attempts (Alton Brown, I'm looking at you).
The downside of the doughnut situation is that every day for the past few days, I've eaten two doughnuts, one leftover cupcake from dinner with my parents on Friday night, and one or two pieces of the candy that my mom brought over for me. I'm not sure how long I can maintain this diet, but clearly when I fall off the wagon, I don't do it halfway.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find the Tums and get ready for bed. Sweet dreams!
Monday, March 19, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Whistle while you work
Disney movies always make work look like so much fun. Think of dwarves cheerfully whistling their way to the mines, or Snow White working merrily in the kitchen with all her little animal friends helping out. Or remember that great scene in Mary Poppins when Mary teaches Jane and Michael to clean their room by simply snapping their fingers and singing a catchy tune? Even as an adult, I've never watched that without wishing it could really work that way...just snap my fingers and have a sparkling-clean kitchen, or watch the laundry fold itself and dance into dresser drawers. But since I'm not practically perfect in every way, I have to find other motivation, namely cranking the tunes while I do chores. So, without further ado, my favorite soundtrack for domestic duties:
"O Worship The King," Chris Tomlin -- It's hard to go wrong with a classic hymn, especially one with a modern twist.
"A Thousand Years," Christina Perri -- Well, if I'm being honest, this isn't strictly a good cleaning song, since I'm always compelled to stop what I'm doing and properly belt it out, but a singing break in the middle of a tedious task is always welcome.
"Better Is One Day," Kutless -- A great version of a great song, and one where I can sing and work at the same time.
"Don't Come Around Here No More," Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers -- There are actually a lot of Tom Petty songs that I really don't like, but the ones I do like? I love. This is one of them.
"You Might Think," Weezer -- Fun one from the Cars 2 soundtrack, with a good beat for head-bobbing.
"Killa," Lecrae -- Much like exercise, housework is made easier with a little hip-hop thrown in.
"Burnin' Up," Jonas Brothers -- Okay, stay with me, because I'll let you in on a little family secret. The reason this is such a great cleaning song is because a long, long time ago, I made up special words to it just for Agent K. It goes like, "You are driving me crazy/you never clean up 'cause you're so lazy/you make me work even harder/I'm cleanin' up/Cleanin' up for you baby." Every time this song comes on (or even when it doesn't, but I find candy wrappers on the carpet, or some equally egregious instance of littering), I sing it that way in my best boy band style and just crack myself up. Agent K pretends to be annoyed, but she secretly thinks it's funny too.
"The Father's Love," Sovereign Grace Music -- If you can listen to this without stopping to clap clap clap in the bridge, you're more disciplined than I am.
So there's my spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine go down, even if it isn't quite as cool as cleaning by magic.
"O Worship The King," Chris Tomlin -- It's hard to go wrong with a classic hymn, especially one with a modern twist.
"A Thousand Years," Christina Perri -- Well, if I'm being honest, this isn't strictly a good cleaning song, since I'm always compelled to stop what I'm doing and properly belt it out, but a singing break in the middle of a tedious task is always welcome.
"Better Is One Day," Kutless -- A great version of a great song, and one where I can sing and work at the same time.
"Don't Come Around Here No More," Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers -- There are actually a lot of Tom Petty songs that I really don't like, but the ones I do like? I love. This is one of them.
"You Might Think," Weezer -- Fun one from the Cars 2 soundtrack, with a good beat for head-bobbing.
"Killa," Lecrae -- Much like exercise, housework is made easier with a little hip-hop thrown in.
"Burnin' Up," Jonas Brothers -- Okay, stay with me, because I'll let you in on a little family secret. The reason this is such a great cleaning song is because a long, long time ago, I made up special words to it just for Agent K. It goes like, "You are driving me crazy/you never clean up 'cause you're so lazy/you make me work even harder/I'm cleanin' up/Cleanin' up for you baby." Every time this song comes on (or even when it doesn't, but I find candy wrappers on the carpet, or some equally egregious instance of littering), I sing it that way in my best boy band style and just crack myself up. Agent K pretends to be annoyed, but she secretly thinks it's funny too.
"The Father's Love," Sovereign Grace Music -- If you can listen to this without stopping to clap clap clap in the bridge, you're more disciplined than I am.
So there's my spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine go down, even if it isn't quite as cool as cleaning by magic.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
In the home stretch
Well, we've made it to Thursday, which this week is feeling like quite an accomplishment.
On Monday, I spent the morning working the front desk in our school's office and, let me tell you, my hat's off to our beloved school secretary who does this every single day. I answered phone calls (mostly with some variation on "Ionno. I'm just filling in today. Want me to transfer you to voice mail?"), took temperatures, stuck band-aids on sobbing Kindergarteners, sent TAs on errands, and got to spend a few minutes gabbing with my friend who happens to be our Vice Principal. I think the best was the middle-school girl who slouched into the office, flopped her arms onto the counter and said, "do you have anything that will wake me up? I'm, like, reeeeally tired." I guess maybe she mistook the office for Starbucks? Ionno. I was just filling in that day.
Yesterday, McGyver went in for surgery on his shoulder (third time, for those of you keeping score at home). After a year of being the bionic man, the surgeon removed the plate that had held McGyver's broken collarbone together and he's back to 100% stock parts. Thankfully, taking out the plate turned out to be much less of an ordeal than putting it in. We were in and out of the surgery center in about four hours, and no guitar-players to be found in the waiting room. I did chat with a nice lady whose husband was also going under the knife, so that was good. We were comparing gadgets, so I also found out that the street value of my first-generation Kindle for which I paid top dollar is about $50. *weeps*
Today is Laundry Day, which is fine by me, because I think laundry is the best chore in the world. I mean, basically it requires five minutes of attention every hour or so, you can spend the time in between goofing off to your heart's content, and yet at the end of the day, you've completed an important task. Example: McGyver goes "what did you do today?" I go, "laundry." He goes, "great," content because his wife is on top of things and he has clean skivvies and jeans. I feel the pride of accomplishment with a minimal amount of actual effort. See? Awesome! Plus, I have minions to do the folding.
Tomorrow I'm going on a field trip with Pirate Boy's class. We're going to a restaurant to see all the behind-the-scenes action of how they make burgers. And then eat burgers for lunch. This will be Pirate Boy's first field trip of the year, since he missed the previous one when we were in Disneyland in December, so I made a point of going along as a chaperone. The downside of being the fair mom who tries to divide my time evenly between my children? I'm missing Agent K's field trip on the same day to go to San Francisco and go inside a World War II submarine. I'm sure making burgers will be at least as exciting as hanging out on a submarine, right? Right?
I hope your slide into the weekend is going smoothly...Happy Laundry Day!
On Monday, I spent the morning working the front desk in our school's office and, let me tell you, my hat's off to our beloved school secretary who does this every single day. I answered phone calls (mostly with some variation on "Ionno. I'm just filling in today. Want me to transfer you to voice mail?"), took temperatures, stuck band-aids on sobbing Kindergarteners, sent TAs on errands, and got to spend a few minutes gabbing with my friend who happens to be our Vice Principal. I think the best was the middle-school girl who slouched into the office, flopped her arms onto the counter and said, "do you have anything that will wake me up? I'm, like, reeeeally tired." I guess maybe she mistook the office for Starbucks? Ionno. I was just filling in that day.
Yesterday, McGyver went in for surgery on his shoulder (third time, for those of you keeping score at home). After a year of being the bionic man, the surgeon removed the plate that had held McGyver's broken collarbone together and he's back to 100% stock parts. Thankfully, taking out the plate turned out to be much less of an ordeal than putting it in. We were in and out of the surgery center in about four hours, and no guitar-players to be found in the waiting room. I did chat with a nice lady whose husband was also going under the knife, so that was good. We were comparing gadgets, so I also found out that the street value of my first-generation Kindle for which I paid top dollar is about $50. *weeps*
Today is Laundry Day, which is fine by me, because I think laundry is the best chore in the world. I mean, basically it requires five minutes of attention every hour or so, you can spend the time in between goofing off to your heart's content, and yet at the end of the day, you've completed an important task. Example: McGyver goes "what did you do today?" I go, "laundry." He goes, "great," content because his wife is on top of things and he has clean skivvies and jeans. I feel the pride of accomplishment with a minimal amount of actual effort. See? Awesome! Plus, I have minions to do the folding.
Tomorrow I'm going on a field trip with Pirate Boy's class. We're going to a restaurant to see all the behind-the-scenes action of how they make burgers. And then eat burgers for lunch. This will be Pirate Boy's first field trip of the year, since he missed the previous one when we were in Disneyland in December, so I made a point of going along as a chaperone. The downside of being the fair mom who tries to divide my time evenly between my children? I'm missing Agent K's field trip on the same day to go to San Francisco and go inside a World War II submarine. I'm sure making burgers will be at least as exciting as hanging out on a submarine, right? Right?
I hope your slide into the weekend is going smoothly...Happy Laundry Day!
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
To sleep, perchance to dream
Pirate Boy has a lot of enviable qualities -- his sunny disposition, willingness to share, determination to think the best of people -- but none of those are what I most wish I had for myself.
It's the way he sleeps.
Last night, I put Pirate Boy to bed and, at his request, set his alarm for the morning. (Alarm clocks, and being awakened by them, are very much en vogue in our house since the recent purchase of Agent K's upgraded CD-playing one, which lets her choose exactly which song she wants to hear when it goes off.) About half an hour later, as I was washing my face for bedtime, I heard the distinctive sound of his Cars alarm clock proclaiming, "Morning! Looks like today's forecast calls for Lightning! Ka-chow! Ka-chow!" Assuming he was up and messing with his clock, I headed down the hallway to Pirate Boy's room to put the situation on lockdown. What I found was the alarm clock deciding on its own, "Hal"-style, that 7:20 am had already arrived...and Pirate Boy, sound asleep.
As a person who would be awakened by a cotton ball falling on the carpet in the middle of the night, I can't fathom that anyone could be sleeping so hard a mere 30 minutes after lying down that they wouldn't notice an alarm going off in their room, but that's my boy. Almost the moment his head hits the pillow, he is out until morning, and good luck waking him up if you need to. Part of the reason I hate it so much when he gets a bonk on the head is that whole notion of waking them up during the night to make sure they're responsive, because, seriously, how would I know the difference? I've lost a lot of sleep having the internal "concussion, or typical night?" debate. When he has a cold, he can have a coughing fit and not even wake himself up. Several episodes of attempting to prop him up like a drunken sailor and pour cough syrup down his throat, only to have it run right back out of his mouth and get all over his pajamas, have taught me that you'd better dose him up before bedtime, or may God have mercy on your soul. Smoke detectors, vomiting (his own), phone calls, commotion in hotels...he's blissfully oblivious, and always bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.
The big mystery is why this superhuman ability is wasted on someone whose to-do list most days consists of, "Eat. Run around. Play Wii. Play Wii some more." The things I could accomplish on that kind of beauty sleep...but as McGyver says, "It's a gift. We can't all have it."
It's the way he sleeps.
Last night, I put Pirate Boy to bed and, at his request, set his alarm for the morning. (Alarm clocks, and being awakened by them, are very much en vogue in our house since the recent purchase of Agent K's upgraded CD-playing one, which lets her choose exactly which song she wants to hear when it goes off.) About half an hour later, as I was washing my face for bedtime, I heard the distinctive sound of his Cars alarm clock proclaiming, "Morning! Looks like today's forecast calls for Lightning! Ka-chow! Ka-chow!" Assuming he was up and messing with his clock, I headed down the hallway to Pirate Boy's room to put the situation on lockdown. What I found was the alarm clock deciding on its own, "Hal"-style, that 7:20 am had already arrived...and Pirate Boy, sound asleep.
As a person who would be awakened by a cotton ball falling on the carpet in the middle of the night, I can't fathom that anyone could be sleeping so hard a mere 30 minutes after lying down that they wouldn't notice an alarm going off in their room, but that's my boy. Almost the moment his head hits the pillow, he is out until morning, and good luck waking him up if you need to. Part of the reason I hate it so much when he gets a bonk on the head is that whole notion of waking them up during the night to make sure they're responsive, because, seriously, how would I know the difference? I've lost a lot of sleep having the internal "concussion, or typical night?" debate. When he has a cold, he can have a coughing fit and not even wake himself up. Several episodes of attempting to prop him up like a drunken sailor and pour cough syrup down his throat, only to have it run right back out of his mouth and get all over his pajamas, have taught me that you'd better dose him up before bedtime, or may God have mercy on your soul. Smoke detectors, vomiting (his own), phone calls, commotion in hotels...he's blissfully oblivious, and always bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.
The big mystery is why this superhuman ability is wasted on someone whose to-do list most days consists of, "Eat. Run around. Play Wii. Play Wii some more." The things I could accomplish on that kind of beauty sleep...but as McGyver says, "It's a gift. We can't all have it."
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Great gain
I realize it's a little bit late for a "reflections for the new year" post, but strap in, we're doing it anyway...
It was around Christmas time, and I sat in my friend's living room and listened as she poured out her heartache and frustration with her life. Her marriage, her job, her spiritual struggles...nothing was what she wanted it to be, and she finished with the statement, "I don't think there's anyone who would want to trade lives with me." I was taken aback, the irony being that she's exactly the kind of person that people think they'd want to trade lives with, based on outward appearances. But as her words really sank in, I realized: so am I. (So are you, by the way.)
I see this so often with my children, the endless litany of "so-and-so's parents bought him this Lego set," or, "she got an iPod Touch for her birthday," and my standard response is "There are always going to be people who have more than you. But there are even more people who have a whole lot less, so be content with what you have." Agent K and Pirate Boy could probably quote me verbatim at this point. But as I entered the new year, this whole idea of contentment was rolling around in my mind, and if I had to choose one word that I wanted to be my focus in 2012, it was that one. Contentment. It seems ever more elusive in the world in which we live. Do I really believe that mantra of contentment that I repeat so often?
I'll be honest, it's a struggle for me. I tend to have a restless nature -- I like change, excitement, something to look forward to -- and I am blessed/cursed with an extremely vivid and creative imagination, so I can always come up with an alternate scenario that seems much better than the one I'm currently living. Oh, and while I'm being transparent, I really like stuff. So, I'd love to have a new car and an iPhone and a laptop and an expensive handbag. I'd love to travel more and stay in fancy hotels and see the world. I'd love to have more friends and a few hundred people reading my blog every day. I'd love to have an easier job of parenting. But if that's my focus, it can just go on and on and on, and where do you stop? You don't have to look far to find the wreckage of lives caused by people riding disgruntled thinking all the way to adultery, divorce, substance abuse, you name it. So what's the alternative?
Probably the most important (and hardest, at least for me) step toward contentment is found in 2 Corinthians 10:5: "...we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." Yeah, he said every thought. Bummer, right? It takes so much discipline to nip those discontent thoughts and fantasies in the bud, but if we can do that, and change those thoughts to make them instead "obedient to Christ" -- meditating on Him and His gospel and His good gifts -- we'll be rewarded with the peace that comes with a proper perspective.
Controlling our thoughts is helped along by eliminating temptation. Back to my "new year, more contentment" idea, one of the first things I did back in January was to get into my e-mail inbox and unsubscribe to probably 90 percent of the e-mails I was getting from various retailers. I suspected that someone whose attention is easily distracted by material goods, as mine is, is probably better off not knowing about every sale and deal and new product that comes along, and I was right. The number of e-mails I have to wade through has dropped dramatically, and I'm largely free from the urge to buy (or want) things I don't really need.
Most of all, we have to decide who we're living for. If I choose me, I'm never going to be content, because nobody can ever get everything they want in life. But if I keep my eyes on the Author and Perfecter of my faith, who gave me the life I have -- even if it's not perfect -- and who created me to shine in these circumstances and live this very life for His glory, He won't just give me what I need -- He'll change my wants. It's death to the tyranny of myself, of covetousness and envy and selfish greed...if I just hold on to my delighted life.
It was around Christmas time, and I sat in my friend's living room and listened as she poured out her heartache and frustration with her life. Her marriage, her job, her spiritual struggles...nothing was what she wanted it to be, and she finished with the statement, "I don't think there's anyone who would want to trade lives with me." I was taken aback, the irony being that she's exactly the kind of person that people think they'd want to trade lives with, based on outward appearances. But as her words really sank in, I realized: so am I. (So are you, by the way.)
I see this so often with my children, the endless litany of "so-and-so's parents bought him this Lego set," or, "she got an iPod Touch for her birthday," and my standard response is "There are always going to be people who have more than you. But there are even more people who have a whole lot less, so be content with what you have." Agent K and Pirate Boy could probably quote me verbatim at this point. But as I entered the new year, this whole idea of contentment was rolling around in my mind, and if I had to choose one word that I wanted to be my focus in 2012, it was that one. Contentment. It seems ever more elusive in the world in which we live. Do I really believe that mantra of contentment that I repeat so often?
I'll be honest, it's a struggle for me. I tend to have a restless nature -- I like change, excitement, something to look forward to -- and I am blessed/cursed with an extremely vivid and creative imagination, so I can always come up with an alternate scenario that seems much better than the one I'm currently living. Oh, and while I'm being transparent, I really like stuff. So, I'd love to have a new car and an iPhone and a laptop and an expensive handbag. I'd love to travel more and stay in fancy hotels and see the world. I'd love to have more friends and a few hundred people reading my blog every day. I'd love to have an easier job of parenting. But if that's my focus, it can just go on and on and on, and where do you stop? You don't have to look far to find the wreckage of lives caused by people riding disgruntled thinking all the way to adultery, divorce, substance abuse, you name it. So what's the alternative?
Probably the most important (and hardest, at least for me) step toward contentment is found in 2 Corinthians 10:5: "...we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." Yeah, he said every thought. Bummer, right? It takes so much discipline to nip those discontent thoughts and fantasies in the bud, but if we can do that, and change those thoughts to make them instead "obedient to Christ" -- meditating on Him and His gospel and His good gifts -- we'll be rewarded with the peace that comes with a proper perspective.
Controlling our thoughts is helped along by eliminating temptation. Back to my "new year, more contentment" idea, one of the first things I did back in January was to get into my e-mail inbox and unsubscribe to probably 90 percent of the e-mails I was getting from various retailers. I suspected that someone whose attention is easily distracted by material goods, as mine is, is probably better off not knowing about every sale and deal and new product that comes along, and I was right. The number of e-mails I have to wade through has dropped dramatically, and I'm largely free from the urge to buy (or want) things I don't really need.
Most of all, we have to decide who we're living for. If I choose me, I'm never going to be content, because nobody can ever get everything they want in life. But if I keep my eyes on the Author and Perfecter of my faith, who gave me the life I have -- even if it's not perfect -- and who created me to shine in these circumstances and live this very life for His glory, He won't just give me what I need -- He'll change my wants. It's death to the tyranny of myself, of covetousness and envy and selfish greed...if I just hold on to my delighted life.
"But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it."
1 Timothy 6:6-7
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Gonna have to face it, you're addicted to Twitter
No doubt about it, being sick is a drag. For the last week, I've been unable to do much besides sit in my chair and cough while my house descends into a state of squalor that should have the producers of Hoarders calling any minute. By yesterday morning, I had pretty well exhausted everything on YouTube and Hulu that interested me, and there's never anything on TV. And then I remembered I had a completely neglected Twitter account that I had to get in order to sign up for Pinterest. So I started looking around on Twitter. And before long, I had become determined to learn to use Twitter. I refused to be a dinosaur who doesn't know what all the Kids These Days are doing! I can be relevant! Watch me! I am down with Twitter, yo!
...So basically I found a bunch of my favorite celebrities and followed them. And that was pretty much my foray into that brave new world.
And then this happened.
Yep, that's Sam Neill of Jurassic Park fame. Now, obviously he makes a habit of following back anyone who follows him (classy), so I'm no special snowflake, but still. Sam Neill! While I was dozing off last night, I tried to remember to tell McGyver that if I didn't survive my cold, I wanted my obituary to say that Sam Neill followed me on Twitter.
And that was the beginning of my adventures. It's like how the drug dealers give you the first one for free to get you hooked. Today I got a little bolder and gave a shout-out to an actor I like (from Pirates, no less) and he replied and retweeted me. Now that is inbox surrealism, let me tell you.
Don't worry, I'm not going to turn The Delighted Life into E! Online or anything, and it's not like I'll start littering posts with "...as I was saying to Sam Neill the other day...."
But I will admit there's going to be no living with me at home.
...So basically I found a bunch of my favorite celebrities and followed them. And that was pretty much my foray into that brave new world.
And then this happened.
Yep, that's Sam Neill of Jurassic Park fame. Now, obviously he makes a habit of following back anyone who follows him (classy), so I'm no special snowflake, but still. Sam Neill! While I was dozing off last night, I tried to remember to tell McGyver that if I didn't survive my cold, I wanted my obituary to say that Sam Neill followed me on Twitter.
And that was the beginning of my adventures. It's like how the drug dealers give you the first one for free to get you hooked. Today I got a little bolder and gave a shout-out to an actor I like (from Pirates, no less) and he replied and retweeted me. Now that is inbox surrealism, let me tell you.
Don't worry, I'm not going to turn The Delighted Life into E! Online or anything, and it's not like I'll start littering posts with "...as I was saying to Sam Neill the other day...."
But I will admit there's going to be no living with me at home.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Like father, like son
Pirate Boy was watching a movie the other day, and I noticed he was making liberal use of the fast-forward button on the remote. "What are you doing, buddy?" I asked. "It's just talking," he said dismissively. I laughed. "Why are you skipping the talking?" He shook his head. "Talking is boring." "Maybe the talking is important to the story," I suggested. "Blah blah blah, chatter chatter chatter," he replied with disdain. (And hand motions.) Then he was thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe if it's talking, like, during a car chase..." he conceded, turning his attention back to the movie.
Funny enough, I happen to know another guy who would prefer that more movies combine plot development with car chases...
Monday, February 27, 2012
Another five things I could watch on continuous loop forever
It probably makes no sense at all that this would be my first post back after weeks of radio silence, but I've been sick and spending a lot of time lying around watching random stuff on YouTube. So, consider this sharing the wealth!
1. The Man Who Walked Around The World
I'm a big fan of Scottish actor Robert Carlyle, currently killing it in the dual role of Rumplestiltskin/Mr. Gold on my new favorite show Once Upon A Time. This clip is of one of his earlier gigs...it's rare that a commercial makes you feel like you're in the presence of acting genius, but this one definitely does. It's a single, perfectly-timed, flawless six-minute take, and he makes it look easy. Also -- call me a sucker for accents -- I would buy the audiobook of this guy reading the instructions that came with my hairdryer.
2. I'm a raccoon
The Allstate commercial that made "I'm the smartest raccoon I know" a catchphrase in our house.
3. My new best friend
Despite the video's title, it has nothing to do with Jennifer Lopez or her Oscar dress. Family blog, remember? It does have something to do with the guy at 1:58, who has my undying gratitude for mocking Angelina Jolie and her awkward "y'all noticed my leg, right?" pose to her face.
4. The King's Speech trailer
It's criminal that I haven't actually seen this movie yet (long waiting list at the library), because the trailer just gives me goosebumps. They had me at Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, and Helena Bonham Carter.
5. Here in America
Every year that passes since Rich Mullin's death, I feel like he's forgotten a little bit more. I still love his music, and this great video for a great song.
1. The Man Who Walked Around The World
I'm a big fan of Scottish actor Robert Carlyle, currently killing it in the dual role of Rumplestiltskin/Mr. Gold on my new favorite show Once Upon A Time. This clip is of one of his earlier gigs...it's rare that a commercial makes you feel like you're in the presence of acting genius, but this one definitely does. It's a single, perfectly-timed, flawless six-minute take, and he makes it look easy. Also -- call me a sucker for accents -- I would buy the audiobook of this guy reading the instructions that came with my hairdryer.
2. I'm a raccoon
The Allstate commercial that made "I'm the smartest raccoon I know" a catchphrase in our house.
3. My new best friend
Despite the video's title, it has nothing to do with Jennifer Lopez or her Oscar dress. Family blog, remember? It does have something to do with the guy at 1:58, who has my undying gratitude for mocking Angelina Jolie and her awkward "y'all noticed my leg, right?" pose to her face.
4. The King's Speech trailer
It's criminal that I haven't actually seen this movie yet (long waiting list at the library), because the trailer just gives me goosebumps. They had me at Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, and Helena Bonham Carter.
5. Here in America
Every year that passes since Rich Mullin's death, I feel like he's forgotten a little bit more. I still love his music, and this great video for a great song.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Floating in a stream of consciousness
So there's been a little mystery at our house. We have access to the attic in our master closet, through a hole in the ceiling that's covered with a lid that you push up and move aside to get in. The other day, when I went into the closet, there was some white dust on one of my sweaters, which is in a sweater organizer right under the attic hole. I looked up and, sure enough, the lid was moved up slightly, as though someone had pushed on it. I asked McGyver if he had gone in there...he hadn't. I had visions of Agent K pushing on it with a broom out of curiosity, but she swore up and down that she hasn't touched it. So what immediately sprang to my mind was this short story I read as a kid in some soapy women's magazine about this crazy stalker lady who sneaked into another woman's house and secretly took up residence in -- you guessed it -- the attic, waiting for opportune moments to come out and terrorize her victim. Last night, after we'd gone to bed, I regaled McGyver with my recollections of the story and how it made me freaked out about the closet situation, because who can go to sleep when a crazy stalker lady might be living in the attic right over your head? He listened sympathetically, and then said, "...or, it might be zombies."
Last week, in a magnanimous moment, I told the kids we could get them some pet fishes, and this week we had to make good on it. So now we have two fishes. Bettas, to be exact. They're both ensconced in their bowls on my kitchen counter, and can I tell you how much they stress me out? Agent K's first fish was with us for about seven hours before shuffling off this mortal coil, so I ended up back at Petco the next day bearing my receipt and a dead fish in a container. Fortunately Petco gets a gold star for customer service and nice employees -- the girl told me, "oh, yeah, it happens all the time, it's nothing you did" and sent me on my way with my choice of a new fish. I picked out the feistiest one I could find this time, and both fish are doing fine, but now I feel like it's my personal responsibility to keep them alive every day. Every time I walk into the kitchen...are they moving? Are they moving enough? Did they eat their pellets? Why is that one sitting on the bottom of the bowl? Should I talk to them? Clearly pet ownership is a whole new arena in which to work through my control issues, because I'm all "NO FISH DIES ON MY WATCH" up in here.
And, ohhhh, parenting...can anything else give you those "weary and heavy-laden" moments quite like it? So many prayers for protection over tender hearts and innocent spirits, for wisdom and mercy. And you just want to tell them, even though you can't, really, that there's a whole world beyond all the drama and pettiness and popularity contests of the school years...a world where kindness and humility and compassion begin to trump height and athleticism, so don't ever stop being yourself, because who you are is really going to shine there.
If you can find a common thread to tie those paragraphs together in a neat ending, you're one step ahead of me.
Last week, in a magnanimous moment, I told the kids we could get them some pet fishes, and this week we had to make good on it. So now we have two fishes. Bettas, to be exact. They're both ensconced in their bowls on my kitchen counter, and can I tell you how much they stress me out? Agent K's first fish was with us for about seven hours before shuffling off this mortal coil, so I ended up back at Petco the next day bearing my receipt and a dead fish in a container. Fortunately Petco gets a gold star for customer service and nice employees -- the girl told me, "oh, yeah, it happens all the time, it's nothing you did" and sent me on my way with my choice of a new fish. I picked out the feistiest one I could find this time, and both fish are doing fine, but now I feel like it's my personal responsibility to keep them alive every day. Every time I walk into the kitchen...are they moving? Are they moving enough? Did they eat their pellets? Why is that one sitting on the bottom of the bowl? Should I talk to them? Clearly pet ownership is a whole new arena in which to work through my control issues, because I'm all "NO FISH DIES ON MY WATCH" up in here.
And, ohhhh, parenting...can anything else give you those "weary and heavy-laden" moments quite like it? So many prayers for protection over tender hearts and innocent spirits, for wisdom and mercy. And you just want to tell them, even though you can't, really, that there's a whole world beyond all the drama and pettiness and popularity contests of the school years...a world where kindness and humility and compassion begin to trump height and athleticism, so don't ever stop being yourself, because who you are is really going to shine there.
If you can find a common thread to tie those paragraphs together in a neat ending, you're one step ahead of me.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Brown paper packages tied up with strings, these are a few of my least favorite things
While I'm trying to come up with a more substantial post (discipline, remember?)...In no particular order, things I don't like:
dolls
chicken wings
Angelina Jolie
lip gloss
watching television
cheesecake
fingernail art
curse words
massages
mustaches as trendy decorative objects
hazelnuts
chewing gum
toe rings
Twitter
skiing
hot weather
Las Vegas
clowns
spareribs
You know, just in case you were wondering.
dolls
chicken wings
Angelina Jolie
lip gloss
watching television
cheesecake
fingernail art
curse words
massages
mustaches as trendy decorative objects
hazelnuts
chewing gum
toe rings
skiing
hot weather
Las Vegas
clowns
spareribs
You know, just in case you were wondering.
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