I decided to fill my son's "love tank" this morning by crawling into bed with him, but found I couldn't fit because of all the stuff he slept with. Here's a list of what was in his bed: five blankets and a comforter; two pillows, 20+ stuffed animals (I lost count) of varying size, some as small as softballs, and at least one as large as a microwave oven, a football tee, a remote control black widow spider, an inflated beach ball, a pointy tie-dye party hat, an inflated balloon (from the same party as the party hat...from March), a glider airplane, a rubber snake, sound proof ear muffs, a two-foot long plastic shark, pajamas (he slept in his underwear), a hockey stick, and an American flag.
April 30, 2012
April 28, 2012
Two people said I should write a book, after reading my blog, so in my head, that translates into Pulitzer Prize. Never mind that those two people included my mom and Christy, who got back from China with her son the day we left for China and was, at the time, delusional with jet lag.
I basically want to print out my blog and mail it to a publisher and they make a book out of it and it becomes an instant New York Times best seller. Is it considered vain when you fantasize about back-to-back interviews with Letterman and Leno?
My blog stats skyrocketed while we were in China, but then I found out when I got back that my sister was checking our blog like four times a day to see if we had updated. So, basically the same 10 relatives, who always look at my blog, were just really anxious.
My pursuit of writing a book will probably amount to nothing. Probably because I'm pretty lazy and wouldn't even want to have to print the blog out. Isn't that what the publisher is for anyway? And even if I did shun my laziness, and self-published, at say, Kinko's (are they even still around?), and sold a million copies (I mean 10 million) it would probably just amount to me having a big head. I would tell everyone I met that I wrote a book, and that just sounds really cool and impressive and they would all say, "Really? Oh my gosh! That's so cool. I've never known anyone whose written a book...except my Aunt Hilda, who published our family tree. But she just wrote about our family and printed it at Kinko's, so that doesn't really count."
I guess to even have your writing looked at by a publisher, you have to have a literary agent. That sounds really Hollywood snobbish, so I totally want one. Typically you send a query letter to an agent with part of your work, begging them to represent you (I just learned all this on Wikipedia). It's considered a good sign if you get a rejection letter with a hand-written note saying, "try again".
Ok, let's be honest here. If I got a rejection letter, with a hand-written note, or not, I'd be wallowing in a vat of self-pity for a week or 10 years, and I'd believe I was such a stinky writer, that I wouldn't write again, except in my private journal, where only God could read, and probably my kids when they become teenagers and finally learn to read, and sneak peeks at my writing, and are scarred and horrified for life, by the secret thoughts of their mother. So, I'll just have to wait until someone discovers me. Anyway, I just read (on Wikipedia) that Jim Nabors was discovered by Andy Griffith, while he was working at a nightclub in L.A. So, that gives me hope.
April 25, 2012
April 24, 2012
April 19, 2012
April 18, 2012
April 10, 2012
Since I wasn't able to post any videos in China (had something to do with my iPad and my inability to figure it out) I'm posting some now. Enjoy!
at the airport - see post Flying to Guangzhou
April 05, 2012
A few people have emailed me over the past week asking for an update on what we've been up to since getting home. In a word: nothing. We've been up to nothing. If my identity were at all tied up in my accomplishments as a mother, which, of course, it's not (dramatic pause). My identity is tied up in Jesus (second dramatic pause). Ok, well, let's just say that, absolutely, without a doubt, hypothetically, IF some part of my identity were wrapped up in my role as a mother – which, again, we know it's not – then my title this week would be Queen Nothing.
- Watched way too much TV. In fact, I've watched so much of that Sid the Science Kid that I've developed an overwhelming distaste for every character on that show, but especially pink-headed Gerald, who I want to punch in the face because he's so annoying. Also, Elmo is Autumn's new BFF.
- Played on the playground – discovered that Autumn likes the swings, but only so high before she goes from giddiness to sheer terror.
- Got back to a normal sleep schedule in a record eight days (Thanks Steve!). I missed the Chinese cement mattresses so much that I found myself lured into sleeping on Autumn's bedroom floor a few nights - to simulate that not-so-soft feeling.
- Celebrated Autumn's 3rd Birthday – I hate to say this is nothing because it's so not nothing, but when you get back from the other side of the world just five days prior and you're still jet-lagged, then birthdays take a backseat. We did manage to pick up some cupcakes at Dominick's and throw up some recycled decorations and blow up balloons. We did it while Autumn napped and when she woke up and saw it, she gasped in delight over and over again. It was very cute.