I love the early morning hours. It is my habit to get up before everyone else so that I can enjoy some time with the Lord before the day sweeps me away. That, and so I can have time in blogland.This morning I have a house full already. Two of the boys I watch arrived at 6. I put them back to bed. Another boy I watch arrived at 6:30. I put him back to bed, too. So, here I sit, getting paid to have children sleeping peacefully in my house. This is one of those moments when I love my little job. Once they wake up, it will be an entirely different matter! The house will be noisy and everyone will need something from me. Ah, Motherhood.Is it true that all women turn into their mothers? I was wondering about that. I haven't told you about Ryan in a long time. You should keep praying for that boy. Remember him? He's still ill. No kidding. He will be on antibiotics for months, and he's constantly in pain. It's awful.
I am reading this book about dating. I am going to write one on that topic someday. It will be either really funny, or deeply depressing. I can't make up my mind.
This book I am reading is dealing with compatibility issues. It gives the Magic Formula for finding a suitable life partner in, like, 12 hours or less.
It takes speed dating to new levels.
Lots of the information makes really good sense. It's good stuff to think about. It also makes me wonder how our Grandparents ever managed to stay married. The didn't have the Magic Formula.
So, I think, how ought this to impact me?
Do I employ the Secret Magic?
Or do I simply mold myself to a man I love and just commit to him for the rest of my life?
How important are the Components of Compatibility? I am pretty sure I am not compatible with my kids, yet we live in harmony. It's a whole love/commitment thing.
It's safe to say that I am way more afraid of getting into a bad marriage than of staying single forever. I like being single. I hate being in a bad marriage.
I think I would really like being in a good marriage. That could be fun.
I think I am over thinking this. Chuck once told me that there is seemingly no problem I can't over-think. Hmmmm....he may have something there.
Celise told me that I should, like, relax.
Kjp told me to buy chocolate.Look at me rambling again.
7 comments:
From my father, via numerous eMails:
The Difference between Men and Women
A Fable
There is a guy named Roger, whom is attracted to a woman named Elaine.
He asks her out to a movie, she accepts and they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
Then, one evening while they are driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud:
"Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
There is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward .... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: So that means it was ... let's see ... February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means ... lemme check the odometer .... Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed--even before I sensed it--that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a friggin' garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600!
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. God, I feel so guilty putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90 day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumbags.
And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems truly to care about me, a person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a damn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their....
"Roger," Elaine says aloud.
"What?" says Roger, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have .... Oh, God, I feel so...." (She breaks down, sobbing.)
"What?" says Roger.
"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Roger.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.
"No!" says Roger, glad finally to know the correct answer.
"It's just that .... It's that I ... I need some time," Elaine says. (There is a 15 second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
"O.K." he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Roger.
"That way about time," says Elaine.
"Oh," says Roger. "Of Course."
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Roger," she says.
"Thank you," says Roger.
Then he takes her home. She lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn.
Whereas, when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:
"Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"
Isn't that true? Men and women are doomed to misunderstand each other. Women and women are doomed to misunderstand each other, for that matter!
I say go with the Magic Formula.
And then buy some Mr. Clean Magic erasers and clean your kitchen.
While you are singing you can sing "Ooh, it's magic!"
And then you will be reminded that David Blaine is quite possibly the world's worst magician. And David Copperfield was married to a super model, wasn't he?
Thinking about super models will make you wish for a magic potion to make all this weight loss happen quickly and painlessly.
And that will make you think about the Magic Formula, because the perfect man won't care if you're carrying 10 extra pounds.
No way! Do you really think Kjp is Chuck? Alright, it's true no one has ever seen them in the same room....
If you are between the ages of 8 and 24, thanks to the movie Napolean Dynamite - you know 'friggin' (if that is how it is spelled!) very well throughout at least Europe. I would bet in Tibet as well.
However, the eMail originated in America, sent to my father by one of his many odd retirement type friends. You would not believe what most of their eMails are like! Of course, each and everyone has to be forwarded to me - several times. I guess I am supposed to be worrying about this stuff..... (another time, another book)
So, Kelly! Harrowing day? No wit to liven our droll lives up with? My excitement is having my blog deleted for the fourth time today! I am so sick of this!
Oh heavens! KJP = Kristoff Johann Plattner. If I am particularly rotten, Kristophus (family name, dating back to the Latin days of Switzerland!).
So KJP is not Chuck
Ok ..... what is 'T T H' ?
I am substituting 'Turtles Tango Hypnotically' for now, but I am sure something better will fit in the sentence!
Also, I am really not sure as to exactly what 'friggin' means....would this be something more genteel than something Eddy Murphy would be prone say in his movies?
If you remember the 'big guy with rock' photo, yes that was me on 9/3 with 185 pounds ready to whack me only a fraction of a second later....... Trust me - stitches came out yesterday (rebuild of right foot) and this has been a really bad day!
Current picture though is not me. I have never been to the moon, nor used dolls to make a similar scene. Just pure digital magic merging four photos. My best piece was putting my sister's face on the town ox. She was less than impressed. Nor was the ox's owner.
I realize blogs are sort of random on the concept of truth, but I am trying to just be me. (Within the constraints of hackers whom have done me in again on my own site!)
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