New Year's Suckin' Eve, or Resolve, updated

I'm home alone on New Year's Eve. The details of why aren't important, nor will I share the awesome events of the pity party I'm currently throwing for my self (guest list: me and a box of doughnuts), but since it is New Year's, I should share how I did in my resolution to read more books-this specific list, and since this blog is about me, me, and me, I'll also share my resolutions for 2009.
So a year ago I posted that I was going to read 20 specific books. I said I'd take the books in chunks of 20 and once I made it through one chunk, I'd post another chunk of 20. Well, I never made it through the first chunk. From my list of 20, I read six. Two of those six (Beloved and Wonder Boys) were read for my book club, a great way to make sure I read. In addition to the six books from my list, I read:
Playing for Pizza by John Grisham (also for Book Club)
Plantation by someone I forget-it sucked (also for Book Club)
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
River of Doubt by an author I forget-Colleen something, I think. It was about Theodore Roosevelt, and I kind of have a crush on him now.
The Tale of Despereaux by Kate di Camillo, and I ended up teaching it.
Skakespeare: The World as Stage by Bill Bryson
The Shores of Silver Lake, The Long Winter, Little Town on the Prairie, and These Happy Golden Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder-it's like comfort food for my brain and heart.
The Doll People by several authors, including Ann M. Martin
Bonk by Mary Roach
A textbook on the Enlightenment and one on European Romanticism
I truly believe there's more that I'm forgetting. I didn't hit every book on my list, but I'm pleased with what I've done. If I finish Gathering Blue tonight, then that'll be one more.

As far as 2009 goes, I've thought about the typical lose weight, be better with money, get closer to God. Those are all good resolutions, and I do hope those things will happen, but I think I work better in specifics. Since we're about 2 hours away from '09, I'll list 9 goals.
1. Pray through the devotional Leighann gave me every day.
2. Lose 35 pounds, and on the way to that, fit into my red dress again.
3. Complete the triathlon in August.
4. Limit eating out to once a week or less.
5. Read more, specifically more fiction. I'm naturally inclined towards non-fiction, so it's a challenge for me to pick up a novel or short stories. I recently discovered there's a place that lets you borrow books for two weeks at a time-for free-so that should help me to read more.
6. Keep my house cleaner, like clean to the point where we don't have to get ourselves into a frenzy if people are coming over.
7. Save enough money to buy a new, fun pair of shoes.
8. Continue to learn more about where my food comes from and make responsible food choices that support ethical practices and local businesses.
9. Write on my blog everyday, even if it's just a sentence to show gratitude for something.

I'll try to update my progress regularly. Happy New Year! A box of doughnuts is calling.

meaning, or thanks, church!

This Advent, our church has promoted the idea of rejecting the commercialism of Christmas and embracing a simpler version of the holiday, one the focuses on Christ, spending less money, spending more time, and making Christmas more about being with others and doing for others rather than buying for others. I think the attitude is admirable and important, except that it gave Husband some ideas.
Do you think we should make each other presents? he asked on the way home from church a few Sundays ago.
Uh, I replied.
Well, it's something they talked about in church today. Making presents. So since we don't have money to get each other presents, we could just make something for each other, he explained.
My hesitation didn't stem from the idea of receiving a homemade present. I'm female, so I tend to like things that are homemade. I carried around a bag my sister made for me for a year until it broke from over use. I adore the quilt that Leighann and her mom made for Mr. Independent and each night when I tuck him in I ask, do you want me to cover you with your nice warm blanket, and he smiles and nods yes. So I don't mind receiving homemade gifts. I'm happy with pretty much any present I get. I'll be honest. I like presents. I'll be honest again. I felt kind of depressed when we realized that we didn't have the money to get each other presents. And then, my mom told us at dinner one night that my dad wanted to give us money to buy presents for each other, and I think we simultaneously realized that there's nothing we need. At that moment, I couldn't even think of anything tangible that I wanted. All of my wants were intangilbe: better control of finances, more fiscal responsibility, less stress about money, less stress about my job, the depression to go away, the ADD to get better or at least managable, for Mr. Independent to somehow manage to escape the depression and anxiety that has hit at least four generations of my family. And for whatever reason, despite these intangible and possibly unattainable wants, I felt contented at that moment when we explained to my mother that we'd really just prefer to not do presents with each other this year. I have a child who I adore to cliched degrees. He speaks and walks and does what average almost two year olds do. As yet his short, fat genes haven't kicked in. As yet, the depression and anxiety haven't kicked in. He's more interested in reading books than watching television (mee-mo being the exception). I have a husband who comes home every night and who I hope will continue to come home every night for the next 60+ years. He works hard at most of what he does, and he does it without complaining. I have a house-cold no matter the thermostat's setting, but it's more than a lot of people have. I am clearly well fed, and I have clothes to wear, access to books and cable television. I have a job and live in a city that I love. I belong to a church that actually challenges me. I have enough.
Husband and I went around in circles that Sunday in the car, discussing whether or not we should make each other gifts, and do homemade gifts really carry more meaning than store bought gifts. Case in point: I have spent hours making Husband cds over the years that he rarely, if ever listens to. I think he just hasn't liked the music I've put on them. But when I bought him the illustrated Elements of Style a few years ago, he brought it to his classroom for the rest of the year and even used it in some of his class activities. I'm not ready to write off store bought presents as meaningless, especially in our case. We never really made a decision.
But then, I started thinking of Husband not having anything to open on Christmas morning. I thought he probably wouldn't care, but I would feel sad not seeing him open anything from me. So I resolved to make something. I started mentally planning, working up the confidence to make something for someone who has stated over and over that he doesn't really like homemade gifts. Then I got mad at him. Not super mad, just a little annoyed, and decided that I didn't actually want to put effort into making him a gift that would seriously expose me-thoughts and feelings and the like-and that he'd probably hate. I resolved to NOT make him a gift and be content with seeing Mr. Independent rocking in the rocking chair that Santa will bring him. I'd be happy with the breakfast we'd cook together and the visit from family later that day. My mind was as contented as it gets, and I was self-satisfied and smug and a little spiteful thinking about how I wasn't going to have to spend hours laboring over a gift that exposed me (emotionally) that he'd have to fake gratitude for. That's where I was when he left for work yesterday afternoon. Hand on the door, he turned around and said, so, are we making each other presents or not?
If I hadn't given up swearing, I would have said the f-word then. But I have given it up, so instead I just said, I was going to make you something, but now I don't really feel like doing anything, so I'm not. Why, do you want to make each other presents?
It's up to you, came his infuriating reply.
No. I want it to be your decision.
Repeat as needed.
I'm not sure who finally decided that we'd make presents, but I spent three hours working on it last night, and so far another three this evening. I'm almost done, and I'm tired. The present has meaning, but I'm still worried that he'll hate it, then I'll hate myself for making it, for putting myself out there. I'm worried that he'll fake being happy, but he'll secretly wish I'd spent the $50 to buy MarioKart for Wii.
I know this is the sort of thing where I'm supposed to learn a lesson, something about the true meaning of Christmas and togetherness and love or other sappy sentiments, but I'm not sure I have. I know that I don't feel sad anymore when I look at the fireplace and see three empty stockings hanging, two of which will remain empty this year. I feel calm, and contented, and, I'll be honest, a little curious about what he's going to make for me.

my child's words-a pronounciation guide

again-oh gay (formerly ga-ga)

clock-cock (awesome in public)

be loud- BE LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!

be quiet- see be loud

daddy-da-deeeeeeeeeeee

horse-neigh

cow-moo

cat-meow

dog-dowg

shoe-jew (also awesome in public, especially when yelling "uh-oh! jew!" I'm worried people are going to think I'm raising a bigot)

hot mama-ot mama!

siren-ooooooooooooooohhhhh! woooooooooooooooohhhhhhh!

bus-buh

truck-ruk

yes, please-yeah, plee

yes, ma'am-yeah, mah

yes, sir-yeah, srrr

bird-bur

light-dight

yellow light-yellow dight!

milk-mil

water-mil

fish-fiss, or meemo

a Christmas card

ENJOY THE SPIRIT OF THE SEASON!

This is the text of an email I sent out earlier this evening

Hello-
We're not doing Christmas cards this year. We didn't do them last year either, but the difference is that last year, we actually paid for and received our Christmas cards. Then we never got around to sending them. None of you are surprised, I'm sure, as you've all been victims of our incredible lack of follow-through. I guess I should stop using "we," as Christmasy things tend to fall into my responsibilities. So I thought I'd send them out this year, since I'd already paid for them. I even bought stamps, but when I went to write heartfelt notes on each of the year-old cards, I couldn't find them. Found the envelopes, knew where the stamps were, had a vague idea of where to get addresses, and I couldn't find the actual cards. So Husband told me to send the photo I would have used on the Christmas card attached to a Christmas email. He will be pleased to learn that I have, for the first time in our marriage, done as he's told me. So here it is. Try to imagine this picture with a greeting along the lines of "Hoping you're in the holiday spirit," or something inappropriate like that.
And as we're not really the types to do Christmas newsletters, I won't leave you with anecdotes about the wonderful things my child has done in the past year (if you're that curious, check out my occasionally updated blog at http://rockyorthething.blogspot.com/), but I will tell you that he has recently learned to say the word clock, only he can't quite get the l sound in there, and he's also recently learned to love being loud, so imagine him yelling clock (minus the l sound) over and over and over in some public place, like Target, or the library, and other moms covering their children's ears while glaring at me, and you've got a typical outing with me and Micah. I also won't take your time telling you all of our news from the past year, our acomplishments, obsticales we've overcome, trips we've taken, etc, because that's not really us either, nor is there really much to report. As far as I know, we are healthy. As far as I know we are happy. And we hope you are as well.
Happy Christmas and whatever other holidays you may be celebrating (or boycotting) this year.
Love,
Grace Ellen, Husband, and Mr. Independent

ellful

Mr. Independent has become Mr. Helpful, in his own way. He loves reminding me how "ellful" he is. One of his favorite games is picking up his basket of Mega Blocks, dumping them out, and singing "neenup! neenup!" He brings in the mail and the newspaper and even tries to bring the rake off the porch and into the house. Trumping all of this, however, if the refrigerator. Mr. Independent loves little more than to help Mama unpack groceries. Which is why, if you ever come over to my house, you'll likely find some ramen noodles, empty gladwares, cans of black beans, and a grocery receipt in the crisper drawer.

a marital impasse

This is what's in my mudroom right now...



And this is what Wikipedia says:
It should not be taken as an indication of docility, for under serious threat, an opossum will respond ferociously, hissing, screeching, and showing its teeth. But with enough stimulation, the opossum will enter a near coma, which can last up to four hours. It lies on its side, mouth and eyes open, tongue hanging out, emitting both a green fluid from its anus and an odor putrid to most predators.

And yet we're not calling animal control...
I ain't cleaning up any green anal fluid!