Oh the irony

I just wrote a blog post, and promptly (and accidentally) deleted the entire thing.  Oh Aubrey, you silly thing. Why do these things happen?

I will not rewrite the blog post.  I'm going to presume that the blog was not meant to be.  How arrogant of me!  But perhaps I will write a better post some other time.

I think this blog might be a blog-tease.  I like it.  *waggles eyebrows*  Hey baby, whatcha doing later?

What is it, Precious?

Sometimes I think in a Smeagol voice, especially when tired.  But this story must be told today because it is so quirky.

It starts a year ago.  My wonderful, amazing, and sometimes bored at work friend Brandie* found an awesome deal on winter coats.  She also found a coupon code.  For a mere $25 I got a winter coat for Sebastian and an awesomely ugly ring for myself.  (*Name changed to protect the spectacular friend that is always working hard and never chatting on the internet)

The ring was delivered on schedule.  The coat, however, was not.  It was missing.  The package was entirely too small for the coat.  We were leaving for Kansas City in a few days, in November, and my darling little boy would get a chill.  We needed a coat.

The next part has faded a bit into history.  There may have been some yelling at JCP about the coat, some driving wildly to pick up a coat, some haggling to get the right price as promised, and the back-ordered missing coat order cancelled.  But, rest assured, Sebastian was not cold from November 2011 to present.  He had his Precious.

For the record, he calls it a coat like a normal person.  And I call it a coat until 11 pm, at which time it turns into a magical coat that makes you disappear.  You have to eventually take a long walk and drop it into a pit of fire, but we're not there yet.

Fast forward to yesterday.  Nothing happened coat-wise yesterday but I'm trying to make my blog longer.

Fast forward again to today.  I get a call from a nice lady at the shipping company saying that they have a package for me from JCP.  I am thrilled, although I have no idea what the contents might be.  I think perhaps David bought me a present.  Called him and found out that no, he did not.  I think it is a secret admireror.   Perhaps a rich relative died.  Could it be a pay it forward red ballgown?  I'm sort of in the market for one of those.

I go to the store.  I frantically and joyfully rip open the package.  And there, nestled away is Precious II.  It had been back-ordered for over a year.  It is delightful as far as Precious' go, I suppose.  Clean and new and orange.  But we already have a Precious and having two in the house is just asking for trouble.

Anyhow, it all ended well.  We gave Precious II to the school to give to a cold kid.  Sebastian's teacher already had someone in her class that needs it, so that's even better.  It was just odd, you know?  A little unexpected visitor.  Nothing huge, really.  Not a baby or a new car or a gigantic statue of Elvis.  Just a Precious, meant for someone else.  

Sparkle

Once upon a time, a long time ago, I lost my sparkle.  

Wait, let me start again.

A few months ago, my sparkle vanished.  It was taken by a wicked troll because I wouldn't give her chocolate.  

No, that's not quite accurate either.  

I lost my sparkle.  It just sort of went away for a while.  Things got messy, my brain felt full of cotton with a few pins left in.  And now, thanks to an assortment of awesome friends and family, and a tiny bit of work on my part, that sparkle is coming back.

I guess I should give you some back story.  As far as you know, "my sparkle" is code for my fuzzy pet bunny who went to live on a farm.  No bunnies in this story I'm afraid.  Not real ones anyhow.  

My partner, son, and I moved to Texas four years ago.  We moved for two reasons: First, I am impulsive and thought it was a great idea, why the hell not.  Second, partner got a good job here.  A job which would allow me to stay at home with our son.*

It was scary to move to Texas.  The farthest I had lived away from home was a three hour drive.  A drive that I knew well because I came home entirely too often.  Partner had never lived more than 15 minutes from almost everyone he knew.  We would be on our own, with a spastic three-year-old, in what is arguably one of the most conservative places in the country.  What the hell were we thinking?

So I started to fold up my sparkle.  It is huge, you see, my sparkle.  Imagine a map, one of those big road trip maps.  The ones that never fold back just right, and you can't quite see and navigate safely while driving.  That is my sparkle. It is rainbowy and glittery and glossy.  It is loud and obnoxious.  It makes you get show tunes stuck in your head.  And for reasons I don't quite understand, people are either drawn to it or are repelled by it.  I was alone all day with my son.  I was lonely and scared.  And I didn't want people to be thrown off by my sparkle.  So little by little, I folded it up.  

At last it was pocket-sized and I was miserable.  My sparkle is my driving force.  I was like a stalled boat in the water with no paddle.  Not still, I could drift a bit.  Sometimes I could reach down and try to paddle with my hands.  I didn't capsize.  But I also didn't feel that I could do anything: no fun, no purpose, not even get to shore.  I was stuck in deep waters, scared of drowning if I took a risk.

Many loving people rescued me.  They figuratively and literally repaired me enough to get to shore.  It hurt sometimes.  It was mortifying, it was scary.  And it was all done with love.  

Now that I'm on solid ground I am starting to unfold my sparkle.  Some days I can show it off, let it glint in the sun.  Some days I hold it tight.  It is my security blanket, you see, and sometimes I need to keep it close to make sure it doesn't go anywhere.  But it is there, and it is getting some fresh air.  Purely this act of writing in this blog is evidence of that.  Thank you for seeing my sparkle for these few minutes.

And then an imaginary bunny came hopping by and gave me a cupcake and a kiss.  

*Being a stay at home mom, especially to our son, deserves its own blog entry.  Hell, it deserves its own blog.  And shots of tequila, all around. Man I love that kid, but whew, he is the complete opposite of a boring kid.  

Saturday, Sunday, Monday!!

I'm just plain horrible at this.  OR I'm a busy person who loses track of days.  We'll go with the second option.

Saturday -
Friends who are well on their way to being "friends."
Salt and pepper shakers ;-)
Tie dye
Deep Ellum
Sebastian's peace sign/gang sign

Sunday - 

My car is as clean as it has ever been.  

Making plans

Finding out things that make life easier AND cheaper

Having some self-control

Crazy, wild, adorable teenagers.

Monday - 

PUMPKINS!!!

My physical therapist - who is nice

Church folk who are SO supportive of the youth group

Realizations, even if they mean work

PUMPKINS!!!

Thursday/Friday

I was sick yesterday, and asleep by 8.  (I kid you not, I was asleep by 8!!)  Anyhow, here's a few moments of gratitude.

• Um, being asleep by 8
• Waking up to "watch the debates" but only remembering that Paul Ryan has tiny lips.
• Doctors who care
• The chipotle sauce at Sonic for their burritos.  Awesome.
• Anti-dizzy shot of amazing.

My brother the graduate.  

And now Friday:

• Patient, kind, loving friend who comfort you for the thousandth time.
• The smaller boot!
• Health (in theory)
• Ice cream cones
• Conversations with Sebastian and Karma about God.  Especially Karma's "Yeah God!" throughout the talk

What do ya know Wednesday

I don't know that I have yet to write on the actual day of the list.  I'm sort of proud.

• Hilarious friends.
• Analyzing zombie movies
• Sebastian's future wife (along with is few other wives, and his one husband)
• Feeling productive
• Seeing how good Karma is at visual memory and detail. 

Finches at our finest - 2011

Tuesday

I forgot to add random pictures yesterday to my HUGE gratitude list.  So, you get some now.  

My brother Christopher, taken back in Pizza Hut Land

One of my brothers, wearing the traditional my-dad-wore-this boy clothes

(It is Christian, btw)

Sebastian wearing the same awesome outfit.

My maternal grandpa rocking his nightgown and booties.

Uncle Christian and Karma 

My attempt at cute and/or sassy hair

And now, on to the list:

• Things that make you feel pretty.  
• Taking time to listen to music
• This is probably bad of me, but listening to Sebastian's nightmares as he wakes up to tell me.  (The worst part, the monster ate the dog poop!)
• Holding it together, not crying, even though I'm furious and frustrated.  (Not a home thing at all)
• Giggles

And now a random picture for today: