insert foot

So, anyone who knows me knows that I have a tendency to stick my foot in my mouth. I think sometimes the 'edit' button in my brain gets temporarily disconnected. I've had two really embarrassing moments this past year, both of which were a result of my, I guess you could say, indiscretion.
The first one happened a few months ago. I was out visiting teaching. My companion and I get along really well. We're a lot alike and the woman we were visiting is about our age and we get along really well with her too. So, we're joking and laughing and having a good time and we're all talking about how crazy our mothers are. The girl we were visiting, Melissa, was talking about how her mom went through this really weird Johnny Depp phase. She was obsessed with 'Pirates of the Caribbean.' So I made a joke about her mom having a poster of Johnny Depp on her door and Melissa said that she honestly did have one for a while. So we were laughing about that. Then I asked, "Are your parents divorced or something?" She said, "Well, they were separated for awhile but my dad just moved back into the house. They still sleep in different rooms, though." Dead silence. After a very long awkward pause, my companion said, "Well, on that note I guess we'll be going." I felt so stupid. Fortunately, Melissa wasn't offended or anything like that. In fact, we started talking again and the visit ended on a happier note. (Sigh) Chalk one up for Angie.
The second occasion occurred just last week at Enrichment. (Perhaps I'm subconsciously trying to sabotage all of my relationships at church). Anyway, there were about six of us sitting at a table and we were discussing pregnancy and how much it sucks. I said, "Adam and I are thinking about a second child but I'm scared. I just don't want to do it. If I didn't have to be sick, I would have eleven children. I'd almost rather adopt." After saying these words, I look up and my good friend, Mo, is sitting across from me. Mo and her husband have been trying to have a baby for nearly five years and they just completed their adoption papers the week before. If I had the power to reverse time, I would have. Fortunately, again, my friend was very gracious and was not offended at all. She said she hears that from a lot of her other friends too. I thought, "Oh, great. I'm just another jerky friend." Idiot! I'm really very thankful that she is so easy-going. I think it bothered me more than her because I apologized again a few days later and she told me to stop worrying about it. Again, it's a wonder that I have any friends at all.

isolation

it's a very strange thing, at times, being a stay at home mom. i realized the other day how much time i spend alone with a 17 month old and the toll it's taken on my brain. i was driving in the car alone, which almost never happens, and i noticed a flag flying in the breeze a short distance ahead. i instinctively said out loud in my sweet, motherly tone, "oh, look! there's the flag! it's a big one!' shortly after uttering these words aloud, the thought struck me that i was the only one in the car. there was no baby to giggle and point and coo at the pretty flag.
it's funny how i forget that i'm actually kind of a funny and interesting person until i'm around other grown-ups again. i attended a baby shower last week and, as i was leaving early, was shocked when one of the grown-ups that i'd never met before, said, "you're leaving? you're so hilarious. you're keeping this party going." i just stood there dumbfounded and was tempted to look behind me to see if she was talking to someone else. me? hilarious? i suppose she mistook my advice to the mom-to-be as my attempt at being humorous. "don't let the baby play with knives, swords, fire or poison." in actuality, my brain is so soft and foggy that when it was my turn to introduce myself and give a little advice to the mother-in-waiting-- that was the first thing that popped into my head. everyone else had all of this heart-warming advice. "there's no place like grandma's," "don't be afraid to baby her," "write down your memories because she'll grow up so fast," etc... me? I like to go for the obvious. perhaps that's the benefit of isolation-- my brain may be soft and i may not be able to speak coherently, but at least now i'm the life of the party.

venice

hmm. so this is what a blog feels like. i've decided to post all of my entries in the style of e.e. cummings- no capitals.
i don't believe in them and i think they're kind of a waste of time.
sadly, i stopped keeping a journal about four years ago. i have no record of adam and i's courtship, our wedding, the pregnancy months, james' birth, etc... i sometimes feel like my life isn't that exciting anymore. i have numerous journals filled with stories of adventure in europe and across the united states and into central america. i don't think my brain functions like it used to. when i read through some of my journal entries, i think, "man, i was a pretty decent writer." now, i'm lucky if i can remember how to spell basic words. i heard somewhere that a woman's brain shrinks up to 10% during pregnancy. i'm convinced at this point that that 10% is never coming back. i fully understand now why my mother could never seem to get my name right. she calls my son, her grandson, by her dog's name. and it happens all the time. and she doesn't have alzheimer's.