2 Compliments A Day So Follow Me!

That's what my son's rolling ball says. It's a ball. It rolls. He crawls after it.

"Follow me!" (Not the compliment part, we'll get to that later. That would be weird if a ball rolled about saying "two compliments a day!")

I digress. As it is, what I'm trying to say is: I'm following my own blog. I didn't know you could do that. But look! I am. As a child I always thought it was strange that politicians voted for themselves. It seemed so, well, conceited. But as an adult I realized: should anyone else vote for someone who wouldn't vote for herself?

That would be foolish. If we aren't even our own fans, why should anyone else be?

So I have decided to be my own fan. Yes. Right now right here I have decided. I will follow me. I will be my fan. I think I need the encouragement. Because some days I feel downright discouraged. There are just so many critics out there, so many people trying to bring other people down, ME down. Do I really need another one?

Because I have been that other one. Yes me, my own worst critic. As the saying goes, aren't we all? Well, I think it's stupid. Yes S T U P I D. So I'm done.

And I think one thing I will do to be done (because saying something is rarely enough to make it so) is do the opposite. I will critisize no longer. Instead I will praise ME.

Each day. I will. Once a day I will give myself a gigantic compliment. And you know what? I am feeling a little down right now so I am going to start immediatly. Here goes:

Kimberellie, I think you are a very good friend.

shiver. That was difficult. It really was. As I wrote it all sorts of thoughts went through my head. Critical thoughts, thoughts telling me NOT to praise myself, not to "blow my own horn", thoughts telling me to leave the compliments to others, thoughts telling me "pride comes before the fall", thoughts telling me "at least not that specific compliment, if nothing else, leave that to someone else to say".

But it has been said. And it is the first thing I thought of. And it is true. And it is what I needed reminding of. So I'm sticking to it. I mean, if I don't think that I'm a good friend, why should anyone else?

So there. Once a day. I will do this. I will write out a compliment to ME. And well I am at it I will give one to someone else (maybe you). Sometimes I will post it on here. Sometimes not.

Well, I'm still thinking about it: do you know who else is a good friend? S. Johnston. Yes. Yes she is. (and there are my 2 compliments today).

Christmas Eve-ING

I'm enjoying my Christmas Eve-ING so far. Clean-ing, eat-ing, unwrapp-ing, and some sing-ing have been accomplished thus far. I am looking forward to church-ing, bak-ing, and sleep-ing.


Yes. That is my Christmas Eve in a nutshell (a very festive nutshell perhaps). I don't know why perhaps, maybe just because? Come on Kimberellie, commit to a statement, okay? Sure...

Why is it that "sure" never sounds very definite? Whenever I ask someone something and his response is "sure" I am not always certain he IS sure.

Anyway, because all of the above is mostly rambling, I have had a BRILLIANT idea. This is it:

DRINK COFFEE

But not in the morning. It is not in the morning that I most need caffeine. It is afternoon. Yes, about two pm I start to get all wibbly wobbly like my son's penguin toy: "wibble wobble penguin, watch me wobble!"

So the past two days I have had a cup of coffee in the afternoon. And I must say, it really smooths over the 2pm to 5pm sleepies. Smooths over? Yes. SMOOTHS OVER the sleepiness with a caffeinated layer of awakeness. I am so hyped up that I don't even notice I'm sleepy (cause I'm not, I'm hyped up).

Which is sort of like cough syrup. I HATE cough medicine commercials. Because cough medicine does not make one better. It simply covers one's cough symptoms. Which is a good thing if one is going to rest, or if one HAS to work and cannot be sniffling into customers' coffee (or all over their tax return-pick your occupation).


But, wait, you didn't say you hated cough medicine. You said you hate the commercials.

Thank you Kimberly for getting me back on track (Kimberly is my sane* alter ego).

But yes, stupid commercials. Example:

Joe is sick. Joe's wife says: "Here Joe, take this and go shovel the driveway." Flash to Joe shoveling the driveway while Joe's not sick wife looks on smiling.

Good for Joe's wife, yes, but here we have Joe exerting himself when he should be resting. Because that cough medicine he took isn't making him any better; it is just making him FEEL better. And he is probably going to stay sick longer now that he isn't resting.

Okay. I have to go. My snow globe is staring at me.

*mostly

At Night Time

At night time after our baby is asleep in his crib this is what happens:

We walk around the living room doing stuff. You know, walking around stuff. And every night one of us ends up accidentally kicking (stepping on) one of his toys. Suddenly: "You'll see lots of animals when you're at the zoo". Every night. At least one toy.

"Come on board the animal train."

"One two three let's rock!"

"I'm the elephant. Stomp. Stomp!"

Yes, we have too many noisy toys. Yes, they are all over the living room floor.

Yes, we are buying him more for Christmas.

And then there were three

I read that book. Where all the people kept dying. Ten little Indians I think it was first called. And then a different title: And Then There Were None.

But there are more than none. There are some. I deleted a bunch of posts, you see.

I have decided that this blog will contain less fashion and more nonsense. I like the nonsense. I haven't time for the fashion. Even though I LOVE LOVE LOVE fashion blogs, I really don't have the time to take pictures of my outfits everyday.

See, the baby is the problem. He takes really blurry photos.

Waves (Poetry Wednesdays)

A friend of mine wrote the following poem. I LOVE it. So I asked to post it here. It is truly beautiful (as is the poet).

Poem and photograph by Stargirl Letourneau

Waves

To be alive bounding in aching shining vulnerable life,
this the greatest gift of all O God!
To live precariously, dangerously
At times leaping into the dark abyss of blind faith
only to find myself caressed by the warm sparkling winds of night,
shedding the comfortable familiar burrs on my soul in terror of nakedness I
Find you have cloaked me in love and acceptance, in peace and beauty
Peace!
Madness you say, peace in between chemistry physics laundry repertoire teaching math my students' hands are tense oh no what did I do wrong I have to do this and that so much theory homework have to make dinner and I have no time-

No. That is not peace
Peace is every minute, every second, ticking by a drop of smooth golden honey slowly slowly melting into the Jar, slowly slowly

A prayer, a tear, there is still a lot to do, so much, so much much, but you are my peace, you are my calm, my rock, how could I ever have wanted anything less? For I did settle for much less my God, Rock, my Protector, Father, that I can call you "Father" is the greatest blessing of all

And the so much becomes Joyful, loving, the seconds are longer, stronger, I am not harried, I am safe in your arms, for these things do not matter so much, my God, as you and me, as keeping M close to your heart-go slow with the metronome, and your hands loosen, see? t is better, slower but better, darling, I do my best and it is not rushed, it is full but not rushed. Warm comfort of folding laundry, and I am not rushed-

Heart opens. Slowly heart opens and blood does not rush forth but is given, warm red blood, my hands have been cold so long but they are warmed in your loving embrace, tears bathe me but they come slowly, slowly slowly every minute has a new gift, a new beauty,

the exquisite neatness of chemistry equations on a page, and there are all these wonderful things to do, thank you for today God. In the waves blue and winsome rocking my eyes inspiring me in quietness, for your peace in my soul, for everyone I love, all the new people, more every day......

Slowly slowly take a minute, it is beautiful quiet and

I am with you.

My Family of Imps

This is the baby.


This is the baby smiling.



This is the baby and the husband smiling.


This is the baby and mommy smiling.


This is my family of imps. Never was a cuter family of imps.

A Halloween Evening Sneak Peak

I am in pink pajama bottoms. Plaid. Pink robe. Not plaid. No make-up.

I was dressed up. I was going out. I was.

I didn't. SOMEBODY (somebody adorable) decided that THAT wasn't happening. So it didn't. We went home. Well, the two of us did.

Currently:

I am drinking tea.

I am waiting for my husband to get home from the Halloween party I intended on attending.

What I did:

I washed my face. I read some blogs. I uploaded a new picture onto Weardrobe. I contemplated life. I turned out all the lights. I saw a fireworks display from my window. I wondered how much my city has spent on fireworks this year.

I realized:

It isn't very fun to watch fireworks alone (the baby was sleeping when they began).
I compulsively clean when I am at home by myself for the evening.
Bread will burn in the toaster if you slice it too thin.
Even though I missed the Halloween party, I am a lucky, lucky girl.


Stay tuned for Halloween pictures.

I'd post them now; but the camera also got to go out without me.

Poetry Wednesdays

So I've decided to organize things a little on here. So for starts: Wednesdays are now Poetry Wednesdays. I am going to post some poems (new and old, mine and not mine) every Wednesday. Starting, you guessed it: today!

Now, if poetry isn't your thing, and you like, perhaps...fashion?...just wait for Fridays. Yes, that's right, Fridays will soon be "Fashion Fridays". I am inspired by a lot of fashion blogs. So I am going to be doing something similar on Fridays.

But that is enough preamble. On with the poetry.

....................................

You are Mine

You are mine. You are mine. You are mine.
Child in my arms, you are mine.
And I love you. You are mine.
You are mine. You are mine. You are mine.
I hold you. You are mine.
You are beautiful. beautiful. beautiful.
That God would give me one like you!
You are mine.
A baby. A child. A man. Still, whisper:
you are mine

And one day you will live in another home
And you won't know, as you now know, that
You are mine
And one day you will walk away from me
(taller than me)
And one day you will dance
A beautiful woman in your arms
(I twirl you now)
And she will be the star of your eyes
And you won't know then how you are mine
(but still you will be mine)

Look now my son, read these words as a man-
Look now into you heart
You will find a place deep and quiet.
A place that speaks confidence and love: I planted that there
with help of hands Divine
And I water it and watch it grow
(my arms hold and rock, lips whisper lullabies)
You are mine. You are mine. You are mine.
This place speaks it so.

Shirt Dress Shirt

So I've got this theory. It goes a little something like this: being God's is better than being rich.

If you know me, you know that I am not rich (and you are also a very lucky person). So what was I saying? Yes. I am not rich. But I am God's. And I figure: "Hey, God is God and can give me whatever I ask for. So why not ask?" So I do. I ask.

In fact, I have a book full of requests. It's my Give and Get Book.

"Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Don't worry about anything, instead, pray about EVERYTHING." -my paraphrase of Philippians 4:6 NLT.

So that's what I do. I tell God what I need. And sometimes I happen to need baubles and clothing and chocolate. I list:








Leather Leggings
Patience
That my baby naps
A shirt dress
Look by Vera Wang

And then when I get the items I have asked for I check them off. So far it's really working (I got the perfume as a gift from my husband for "International Kimberly Day").

You may have noticed that I don't just list material items either. I list EVERYTHING, everything that I want. Because I figure, being God's is BETTER than being rich because there are some things money can't buy. So I ask God. And God gives.

So I asked God for a shirt dress. I wrote it down. I thought about it, forgot about it. And then I went to a clothes swap. And lo and behold: a shirt dress. Just my size. Just my colour. And no one else wanting it except me.

I think I'm going to write down "Prada Purse" next.

Park Walk

So I joined Weardrobe.

Now I need to constantly take pictures of myself wearing kick ass outfits. So of course we went to the park. Baby ate leaves. Husband didn't eat leaves. I stood around and looked pretty.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the walk. Currently the baby is sleeping. Michael thinks the walk must have tired him out. Which is funny (it's funny because he didn't do any walking). But I figure being THAT cute must be exhausting (at least for me it is).

More

I want more. More what, I don't know. But I want it. More of it. More fun, more clothes, more sun, more shoes. More cleaner, more better, more milker (there isn't ANY milker in the refrigerator). You get it. More.

Maybe.

And maybe not. Maybe I don't want more. Maybe I want less. Less mess, less hassle, less responsibility, less more. Fewer books definitely. My book shelf is overflowing.

There.

There's a good point. I want fewer books because I haven't room to store all the books I have. While at the same time I want MORE books. Because I haven't anything to read currently. Perhaps this sums up my life: I want less of what I don't want and more of what I do. And sometimes, like with books, they are the same thing.

Only I can't quite figure out what it is I want more of and what I want less of REALLY.

More time? More sleep? More time asleep? Yes. I'll say yes to that, definitely. I'll take more time asleep.

Though it isn't that really; though more sleep would be VERY nice.

What it is is something else. Something elusive.

I summed it up for my husband tonight with this sentence:

I want to stand in the ocean, just where the water meets the sand, at night, the black sea in front of me the night sky vast with white stars arching overhead.


It's like that; but it isn't that.

But it is something more.

Things That Make Me Happy

I filled a basket up with baby toys and put it in our living room. The first time I looked at it I smiled. The basket says: YES. Yes we have a baby.

It's wonderful.

I have a new Starbucks mug. It may be the best Starbucks mug ever. One day I will have a cupboard full of Starbucks mugs. My mug makes me happy.

I looked through old photographs today. I love photographs. I think I may be obsessed with taking snap shots. Pictures make me happy. I look and I remember. I remember and I smile. Maybe one day I will have them all in photo albums instead of just on Facebook!

Tonight is yoga. Yoga number one class. We'll see if I can downward dog. We will see if I have any aptitude for this. Yoga makes me happy. Perhaps when I have actually done it in real life and not just thought about it it will make me less happy. We'll see!

Teddy bears. The new I & B W. Tea. TEA!

Some people who make me happy:

M. Power.
R. Kolke.
My sister.

There are more. You are one of them.

What else? Right. Writing. Writing makes me happy. I am supposed to have five pages done by Friday. My first book took me a year to write. My second took me 6 years. I think I need deadlines. This third book I hope to have done in a year. Perhaps one day I will get really ambitious and actually send the books to publishers. I may even get so ambitious that I will let people read them.

Another thing that made me happy this week: M with the word LOVE painted on her forehead.

Oh, and ][ getting married in a top hat! Perfect!

Beer in a hot tub... Homemade bread...

Oh, and I know, the very best of all (and I will end this rambling):

My baby now sucks his thumb! It is adorable! One day I showed him how by sucking my thumb. The next day he was doing it! My first mommy lesson!

Yes. This makes me happiest of all.

So Happy

I am going crazy with silliness. Remember in Roman Holiday when Audrey says: "So happy". I like that part.

Or when she says: "I don't seem to mind". Also, a very good line. Okay. SILLY. Because this isn't making any sense.

But I am full of silly. And when the baby wakes up we are going out. OUT! OUT! I like this blog.

I think this is the sort of thing I am going to write: random nonsense.

Two stuffed bears are staring at me from above my computer moniter. I think they have plans for me. Sinister plans. Oh, a car just drove by on the street below. White with two black racing stripes. Very cool to see from above like that.

My home is just stuffed with baby toys. It is hard to get around the living room. Why isn't living room one word? I think it should be.

So I Decided To Have a Blog

Yes. The moment you have all been waiting for: Kimberly has decided to write a blog. I know, you're excited.

I can tell. You can barely sit still in your computer chair. Feel free to take a run around the room if you think it would help.

Yes. I am going to write...stuff.

You see, I have too many words. And writing on Facebook seems almost, well, I don't know. I guess I am not certain I want all my "friends" reading all it is I have to say. Or maybe it seems presumptuous on Facebook. Like: here you go. I know you're interested. Read my inane ramblings.

This way you have to choose to read my inane ramblings. You can type in my address:

www.purplestinkindogtoy.blogspot.com and find me.

I'm exciting. You'll see.