Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Nine years

Today, my husband and I are celebrating nine years of marriage. Time has flown by, if it wasn't for the fact our kids are getting older, I wouldn't know it has been this long since we said I do.

We met at the least likely of places, at least I think so. I was working out and then he walked in. Our eyes met for a brief moment and that voice in my head simply said "this man is going to change your life".

And so he has, and only for the better.

I knew I was going to marry him a month after we started dating. He had asked if he could join me at church that morning, and as I was praying next to him, I just knew. A year and half later we were husband and wife.

The last nine years have brought lots of wonderful times, and its share of trying times.
We have brought into this world 3 amazing people who fill our days with laughter, joy, tantrums, and their share of messes.
We have faced our kids' illnesses, emergencies, and happy birthdays, and we have learned together how to be the best parents we can be.

He is my best friend. He knows me like no one does, and loves me in spite of my flaws. He knows when to give me room to unwind, when I need a hug, and when I just want to cuddle.

We are each other's ying yang, I suppose. I'm more reserved, more private, an introvert, and he has never met a stranger. We are different in a lot of ways, but we are one in the things that really matter. I am a better person because I've spent the last nine years of my life with him.

He makes me laugh like no one can, he makes me feel pretty even when I'm walking around in pajamas and my hair is a mess; he knows what makes me tick, what angers me, and what makes me happy. There is no one I rather spend my life with.

Thank you for being my best friend, my companion, my lover, the father of my children, my only one.

I love you.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

To my niece

1991. There are a lot of things I don't remember about that year. I barely remember the people who were in my classes in high school, or what fashion styles were "in". I don't even remember my birthday that year.

But there is day I have not forgotten, even after all these years: March 10, the day I became an aunt.

She came into the world on a beautiful spring day. It was a Sunday. As I heard the news of her arrival, I looked out the window and saw the bluest sky. I wanted to remember that day, so one day I could tell her what a beautiful day it was the day she was born.

She was a joy to be around from the start, and I was lucky enough to live with my sister during the first months of her life. I helped take care of her, and enjoyed every minute I spent with her.

The years have passed, and that sweet girl has now become a young woman. She is everything one could have dreamed, she is intelligent, beautiful, kind, humble, giving, loving; the list could go on.

I've had the privilege to watch her grow up and overcome obstacles along the way, and become the person she is today.

In a week, she will be graduating high school. It seems like only yesterday I saw her for the first time, and now she is getting ready to begin the next phase of her life. There are so many things I want to tell her but simply can't find the right words.

I want her to know how very proud I am of her, of the person she has become, and how much I admire her. There have been hurdles along her path that many people could have used as excuses. Instead, she has risen above them, set her goals high, and achieved them.

I want her to know how proud I was the night it was announced she had the highest GPA of her class, how every time I think of the little girl she was, and how far she has come, the tears fill up my eyes. Of how thankful I am to have her in my life, to have her setting a good example for my own children, and how big are the shoes she has left for them to fill.

I want to tell her how much I love her, but even that doesn't seem enough to express how I feel.

I want her to know how thankful I am for the bond we have; that she can always come to me no matter how much distance separate us, or how long it has been since we last talked.

I want to tell her the rest of her life is just around the corner. That the years she spends in college will help her become the adult she is destined to be.

I want her to know that there will be obstacles along the way, some will seem insurmountable, but most of them seldom are.

I want to remind her to believe in herself and in the power of her dreams. I want her to know the measure of success is not in material possessions, but rather in the happiness you feel from having lived your life to the fullest.

I want her to know every day will bring a lesson; and it's up to her to learn from it.

That life should be lived without regrets, that there is a lesson in every moment, and that she should cherish all the good ones because they are the ones that will carry you through the tough times.

I want to tell her how much I'm going to miss her, how incredibly proud I am of her, and how much she means to me.

Thank you Stephanie for the gift you are to me.

Monday, May 4, 2009

The sound of music

I'm probably one of the few people who have never attempted to play an instrument. I would have loved to play piano, and I still think before I get older, I'd like to give it a try.

But for now, my daughter is the only musician in our house. She has been taking piano lessons since August of last year. She likes it, and she is good at it. Seh can memorize a piece rather quickly, which really amazes me. Sheet music look like a bunch of squiggly lines to me.

Sunday was her very 1st piano recital. She was nervous and excited, and at one point said she felt like "butterflies were coming out of their pupa inside her belly". I was surprised she actually knew what a pupa was. :)
She was the second one to play at recital, and didn't seem to be nervous at all as she sat on the grand piano on the stage. She began to play Chugga Chugga Choo Choo by Elisabeth Gutierrez.

That's when I lost it and began to cry. Where did the time go? It was just yesterday I brought this tiny child home and became her mom. Now she sits in front of a grand piano, and makes music.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Folding Machine

I hate house chores. I really do. Growing up, my family had a maid until I turned 13. By then, my 2 oldest sisters were gone to college, and my parents decided they didn't need a maid any longer. So my sister Glenda and I became the maids. We did our own laundry (NO washing machine), and kept the house clean (no carpets, we had to sweep and mop).

So I guess that's why I hate doing chores. The one thing I can do without complaining is the dishes. Our dishwasher decided to retire a few months ago, and even though my husband wanted to find a replacement, I talked him out of it. Doing dishes actually relaxes me.

Laundry is my biggest enemy. There is a never ending mountain of dirty clothes to be washed, baskets of laundry to be folded. It is time consuming, and I rather do something else with my time. Even though my laundry experience has come a long way since my teenage years, I still dread doing it. I guess doing the laundry for 5 people doesn't make it any easier.

As I was folding clothes this afternoon, I was thanking whoever invented washing machines and dryers, when it occurred to me, no one has invented a folding machine. Now, I would be willing to pay anything to have a folding machine where I could just throw the clean clothes, and they'd come out neatly folded and just ready to be put into the drawers.

So to any inventors out there, please invent a folding machine. I'm sure there are thousands of us out there who would love to own one.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Wacky happenings

It has been a month since I last posted on this blog. I guess you could say the "blogger block" was more than I could surpass.

I decided to change the layout and title of this blog so I can (hopefully) feel more inspired to blog daily.

You can file this under "strange", "eccentric", or just plain crazy. Take your pick.

Our offices moved to a new, much nicer building last year. A lot of us lost our hard wall offices and ended up in a "workstation", aka: cubicle. Rules were published as to how our workstations should look and what was acceptable to display and what wasn't. Common sense would tell most people that certain things (bikini calendars for example) are better kept at home.

A "new" person moved to our hall recently. She really isn't that new (she has been here for a year already) but we had not seen her in our area before. A few days after her move, one wall of her cubicle was covered with a type of material often used to cover casseroles that normally will be cooked in the oven. Do you get the hint? Aluminum foil.

I later heard through the grapevine the reason this person covered the wall is to prevent radiation from the laser printer on the other side from harming her unborn baby. I personally had never heard of laser printers giving off any type of radiation. I guess that explains why my children glow in the dark. HA!

Anyway, fast forward to a month later, when this person and I crossed paths in the hallway. I noticed her pants had a funny print on them. Not being a fan of prints, I took a closer look, only to realize the prints were stars, clouds, and cows. Yes, cows. These are pajama pants, my friends.

The pants have made an appearance for the past two weeks, just about every day. While I understand pregnancy can be a rather uncomfortable time in a woman's life, I was pregnant twice before, and never came to work in my pajamas. I may have worn flip flops when my feet were too swollen to fit into anything else, but never came to work in clothes I would wear to bed.

Why do I care, you ask? Because we have a dress code. Some of us dress more business like than others, depending on what we do. Sometimes I wear jeans if I'm going to do sampling, other times I wear skirts, heels. Very seldom do I wear suits, unless I have a meeting. I guess you could say we have a very relaxed dress code because we all have very different job functions.

But nowhere in the dress code does it say pajamas are acceptable for anyone, regardless of the job function. Unless yours is "sleeping on the job".

So that has been the highlight around here, everyone wondering how long it will before we get a memo reminding everyone what the appropriate office attire is. Of course, once the memo comes out, the only person who won't read it or abide by it will be the one who needs to do it the most.