Random Muses of Megret

On this day, my 27th birthday, I am having a wonderful relaxing day. What more could a gal ask for? My son is in an affectionate and jovial mood...my husband and I enjoyed a leisurely lunch together, the weather is subdued and cloudy (but no rain yet....I didn't want rain on my birthday if at all possible!).... I have been sitting at the kitchen table, Ken by my side, us drinking heart-healthy hot chocolates (made with 70% cacao chocolate....wow), me catching up on my written correspondence.... Looking forward to spending the evening with my folks, my sister and her family, and all of my former pets that reside with Mom and Dad (I miss them, too!). I think back, and for as long as I can remember, Sunday afternoons have always been a solace for me, a sacred timeslot that is filled with only those activities which are slow, deliberate, and purposeful....letter-writing, reading, napping after an intimate lunch with friends or family, fall-leaves-viewing escapades, comfort food bak

Last night was the surprise party that my dear husband prepared and coordinated for me. Funny thing is, I had known it was going to take place for over a week (I interrogated it out of him), so it really wasn't that much of a surprise. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I knew I would have to portray the emotion of surprise....turns out I am not a very good actress in that respect! Though I was not actually "surprised" when the onslaught of people burst through my own door about 7:05pm, I was most definitely in awe. I was in awe of all of the people who thought I was important enough to give up their Wednesday evenings. I was in awe of the kind words, many hugs, smiles, warm wishes, tender-written cards, and thoughtful gifts. I was in awe of being surrounded by so many wonderful, Godly people who love me for who I am. So thanks to each of you who helped to make my 27th year's arrival very sweet and memorable. You did more than you know.

by the way.... check out latest photos of "Little G" at the Baby Blog .

We had a relaxing and leisurely dinner last night with Joe Sangl, an old friend from "way back" (and by that, I mean 1998....I believe that's when we first met him and Jenny). This was his first time meeting our son, too, and that was tres exciting. Over our meal, we discussed many topics, but over and over again sprung up fanciful stories of the past. He said that Melea, his daughter, had pulled out their old home movies last weekend, and he saw on them Ken and I in various places....for one, at her first birthday party. I remember those times like it was yesterday. And of course, there were all of those extremely-fun cookouts the Sangls could throw so effortlessly; even when they involved cooking a 75-pound pig right in their backyard. We discussed the perils of our years in Columbia....both of our families forced there, stuck, obsessed with thoughts of home, ready to get out but knowing it was not possible (at least not immediately). Those Saturdays Jenny and I

I was going to post a blog that I composed late last night (in bed, actually, to help quiet my mind before sleep), but I awoke this morning realizing it was negative and quite harsh in some ways. I was ranting about how much I hate winter. Somehow, overnight, God showed me that He made winter just like He made all other seasons, and I have no right to complain about it. So what if I'm more cold-natured than some other people. I still have no right to criticize what He calls beautiful. So I think, in my distorted way of thinking, that today's 70-degree awesomeness is a gift for me since I decided to embrace what God makes instead of whining about it. I plan to spend lots of time outdoors....go for a walk with Gardner, wash the Jeep, maybe read a little. Today's glimpse of springtime is something that I can't let pass by; this weekend promises chillier temperatures and more threats of rain. I must take advantage of what I have today. I hope each of you have a chan

One of the most gigantic lessons that I am learning right now (and I owe part of the journey to the fact that I'm now a mother) is that I don't have to be perfect. I have never really thought of myself of anything other than a high-achiever.... But it took the subtle, tender, and loving intervention of my husband to show me that I am more than that; I am a perfectionist. I guess I should have seen it early on...how'd I would sometimes re-write my class notes without errors and neatly color-coded for ease of studying them later. How I would change clothes 15 times before going out with friends (no, it's not just "being a teenager"). And how I'd dump entire dinners in the trash can if they didn't taste as delicious as I had pictured them to be, ashamed to serve them to my soulmate (don't scream, you cost-conscious ladies out there!! This only happened four or five times in my nearly five years of married life). What makes certain people (especia

I am a person who, well, dwells on the past quite frequently. I mean, I should've been a historian because I revel in history so frequently. I guess you could call me a "history buff," too, of sorts, though I do not collect Confederate swords or wax stamps from the Victorian era. Nor can I spout out verbally every turning point of the battles of our country's wars. I do admire those who are able to do such things, however, one of which being Dad. He is like a walking history lesson, and I always feel richer, wiser, and more well-rounded after one of his expositions. Though I adore history, and swear sometimes I was born in the wrong decade (I think I would have fit right into the times of the 1930s and 40s), I am not talking about that kind of past. The past I dwell on most frequently is my own, these (almost) 27 years that God has allowed me to live here on earth. The journeys I've taken, the experiences I've had, the moves I've made, the friends I

Anyone else seen those disgusting special reports this week on the Today show about germs living around us? The one today was especially disturbing, showing how many living bacterias and viruses there are in our office buildings. Lurking on every desktop, crawling on every keyboard, and hiding on every phone....these germs aren't just on used kleenexes or in the restrooms. They call this new trend of people coming to work sick so they won't have to call in "presenteeism." All of us know the people that come dragging in, eyes sunken, listless, and fumbling...."I feel horrible," they murmur. "But I have to get this work done." And then the remark that really maddens us...."Plus, there's nothing to do at home except lie around on the couch." Did I miss something, but isn't that what you're supposed to do when you're ill? Productivity levels are plummeting as people come into work, with their batteries half-empty, and a

So Ken and I had a good laugh last night on our Valentine's Day date. We were so excited about the gifts we were giving each other, no idea what the other one had up his or her sleeve. He anxiously watched me open the card, complete with a sweet inscription inside, several hand-made "coupons" for various "I love you" gestures, and two 85% cacao Lindt chocolate bars. :0) (He knows the way to my heart, does he not?) I kept my giggles buried inside as I handed his gift over to him. What was inside? Why, more chocolate, of course, a handmade card with another mushy-sweet inscription calligraphied inside, and....also some hand-made "coupons." We looked at each other and laughed till we thought we'd fall over. Wow....are we on the same wavelength or what? So that was the start to a perfect evening. His parents stayed with Gardner here at the house, and we whisked off to where we spent most of our early dating years, downtown Greenville. We ate

My little 4-1/2 month old son has come down with his first illness, the common cold. He just cannot understand why he can't breathe through his nose anymore, and he looks so pitiful holding his mouth ajar in order to let in air that way. It breaks a mother's heart to see her baby so uncomfortable, with little to offer to ease the discomfort except for cuddles, songs, and that dreaded blue bulb-syringe for his little nose. Mom just dropped by to brighten his day, though, by bringing him a card and a board book for Valentine's Day. His eyes lit up and his legs started bicycling when he saw his Mimi's happy face. Guilty feelings prevail on my end as I fuss at myself for maybe kissing him too much last week when I was battling the same exact symptoms. But one can't help loving on an infant so tender and affectionate. :0) So now I know what all mothers feel when they see their children not feeling well. I know the anguish behind my mother's eyes as she would

I was at Target yesterday, wondering where all the people came from who were out and about (then I rememembered that it was a public school holiday....that explains all the kids). I was perusing the aisles of the Valentine merchandise, just because I love to look at it all. Valentine's Day brings such warm and happy memories for me. Next to Christmas and Easter (because of their higher significance), I would have to admit that Valentine's Day is my favorite holiday. The little candy notes for classmates took me back almost 20 years (WHOA!) to my memories of 2nd grade, of having an empty milk jug attached to my schooldesk with a string, decorated to look like a heart-shaped creature with accordian papered arms and legs dangling down. Slowly, one by one, classmates walked around the classroom and dropped into these crates their valentines for everyone else. Some were merely signed, some had lollipops attached, and some of them had mother-made goodies wrapped in tiny cellopha

I have been going through piles of magazines trying to find a new haircut. It hits you that you need to change things up a bit when you realize it's been 10 months since your last visit to a hair salon. (I'm ultra-embarrassed to admit this.) I distinctly remember my last haircut, simply because the scent of permanent solution in the small little hair shop nearly made me sick (I was easing out of morning sickness at that time). I am trying to get a new look without changing too much about my hair. I think I want to keep the color as is, and I don't want to take off more than one inch off of the longest layer. (So that proves that I am NOT going to get a "new mommy" haircut, if you know what that is.) What is this drive in females that make us feel as if we need to reinvent ourselves or our style every few months? Is it to make our men want us more...as we continuously throw them for a loop as far as what we'll look like when he walks in the door

On my awesome husband's suggestion, I decided to chronicle a day in the life of none other than me. I figured it'd be funny to see it all written down, since I go through my days with nary a thought that my experiences might be curious to someone else. So here it goes....a chronicle of a Tuesday. I woke up early because I went to bed early (as in 10:30 pm)....I was wide awake when Gardner woke up hungry at 7am. After giving him his breakfast, I jumped back into bed beside my wonderful mate to eat cereal and watch the Today show (from where we get all of our national and international news in the mornings now). Ken was off to work soonafter, and I realized just as he was about to go that I had not gotten his lunch prepared. "Oh, I'm going out today for a work interview," he said to reassure me. I then jumped into the shower in order to (hopefully) be completely ready to leave the house when Gardner woke up from his mini morning nap. I was 99.9% read

This was a wonderful, fun-filled weekend for our family of three. We had a lazy day on Friday, just hanging out here at home.... Yesterday we had my grandmother's 80th birthday celebration in the afternoon, and then last night we celebrated Ken's grandfather's birthday (whew!). Tonight was, of course, Superbowl XXXIV, and so we had a mini-party of sorts with some friends and a whole slew of pizza and chocolate chip bars. Mmmm.... Friday afternoon, beckoned by the welcomed warmer weather (and by warm, I am referring to can-we-make-it-to-sixty-degrees? kind of warm...), Ken and I bundled up Little G and took him to the pond to feed the ducks. Well, what we thought, anyway, was that we'd feed the ducks. We didn't expect to be baraged by an entire corp of some relatives of the sea gull....and by that, I mean nearly 50 of them swarming down over us like an Alfred Hitchcock film. Gardner sat there in his stroller, fingers wide open, eyes alert, as if he were