Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Gossip sent by email or Facebook is just as evil as the gossip that comes right from your lips. But the fact is that most people hit the forward or post button and don't think twice about it. They don't care if it's accurate. It doesn't even cross their mind that they are creating an exponential increase in the spread of lies. They "don't have time" to research anything. Even if research just means going to Snopes and typing two words in the search box. Here's a quote from one of the researchers at Snopes:
"For a good many people, it's not important whether things are true or not. It reflects what people want to believe. It reflects a worldview. It's their way of passing along things that concern them. Things they're afraid of. Like it could be, 'I don't care if Richard Nixon really did this. It sounds like something he would have done.' A lot of people are unwilling to acknowledge anything that contradicts their worldview. So telling them it's false doesn't necessarily slow them down. That's how urban legends get started for the most case."
I've gotta get off my soapbox. I have dirty dishes to wash.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
This is the photo we texted Owen, just to let him know that we were still alive, even if Daddy was going to come home headless.
This photo does not do justice to the enormity of this fountain. I wanted to frolick in it. Since no one else was frolicking, I decided that was probably a bad idea.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
On October 4th, I was sitting quietly at my kitchen desk, writing. It was nap/quiet time. Owen appeared beside me. I did not speak to or look at him (because it's quiet time and I try to avoid giving him attention when he's supposed to be in his room). Finally he said quietly and with a note of trepidation, "Mom, look at me." All I could do was stare. He had given himself a haircut. A very BAD haircut:When I asked him what he had done, he handed me this:
October 5th: tree removal. The kids were both mesmerized by the equipment, workers, and noise. Here they are, literally hanging out of the window.October 6th: camping in the backyard. I love camping. I love the night sounds, the cool weather that makes you snuggle down into your sleeping bag, the campfire. Since camping with a 20 month old is not the easiest thing in the world, we decidied to make use of our very own piece of the great outdoors. Charlotte went to sleep as usual in her crib, the monitor went in the kitchen window, and we sat by the lake, roasting marshmallows. Owen held the flashlight under his chin and told "scary" stories. He and Daddy spent the night soaking up the camping goodness, while I went back in to make sure the baby didn't burn down the house. I can't wait until she's old enough to come join in the fun.
October 7th: Dixie Classic Fair. Petting zoo. Pig races. Demolition derby (where Owen and Will got sprayed with dirt--does it get more awesome than that?). Fried candy bar. Cotton candy. Ferris wheel. I think I may start a countdown for next year.
Another fun activity: making a wooden car with your dad. Will is really interested in woodworking right now. And I adore watching him involve his little boy in that new hobby.
And here is the activity that consumed many, many hours of our month: Owen is now an incredibly capable swimmer for a four-year old. And so proud of himself. Driving 30 minutes every day for six weeks sounds insane, but it was absolutely worth it. Too bad Charlotte didn't love it quite as much as he did. This was the face that she made every single day:
Thursday, September 23, 2010
School has started, church activities are in full swing, the kids' six week (daily) swimming lessons are nearing their end, and hopefully we are finding a rhythm. Charlotte is not at all sure about wandering the house without her brother from 9 to 12 each morning. She prefers being out and about, as long as no one tries to talk to her. How is it possible to have two children with entirely different social dispositions? Since he has been able to sit in an upright position, Owen has been entertaining everyone who crosses his path. Charlotte, however, hides her head on my shoulder, in my side, the crook of my knee. But take the people away and out comes the personality--squeezing her nose to try to make snorting sounds, puckering her lips for kisses from her daddy, laughing hysterically at her brother, calling everything "silly." I almost want to store video proof on my phone, just to show people that she is not all solemn eyes and serious face.
Owen is loving school. He is convinced he is the world's greatest swimmer. And cannot get over his excitement at having a boy his exact age living right next door. He would ask his new friend to move in if we would let him. And of course he is still producing quotable moments by the bucketful:
Me: I'm going to go put in my contacts and then we'll leave for school.
Owen (after a pause): Then you won't look so weird with your glasses on.
Me: I don't look weird with my glasses on!
Owen: Well, I think you do.
Me: I like my glasses!
Owen (apologetic smile + shoulder shrug): Okay.
On a totally different note, if you find a Leapfrog globe at a consignment or yard sale and have any children, please buy it. We got one for Owen and I put new batteries in two days ago. You point the attached pen at any spot and it tells you the name (plus the population, area, music, etc if you are so inclined). He has been randomly pointing at places for a couple of days, off and on. I was pretty sure he was absorbing absolutely no info from it, until today. We were in front of a building today that had an outline of Mexico (with a man's face and body attached) drawn on a window. Owen looked at it and declared, "That man's made out of Mexico." Holy canoli! That was the best $8 I ever spent.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Charlotte's new favorite activity--she's about to stand (and is even walking a little now!)
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
This is the picture that actually motivated me to post today. I was on the verge of tears (hypothetically speaking) watching her happily use her fork to put pieces of strawberry in her mouth. She also ate some green beans and a chicken nugget. Many of you may be reading this and thinking, "Who cares, my kids eat that stuff too." But for Charlotte, this is a BIG deal. We have a long way to go when it comes to meal time, but this is such a huge step in the right direction.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Byodo Temple with the Ko'olau Mountain Range in the background:
Laie Point: Waimea Valley Audobon Center and the fabulous waterfall that you can swim under. That's me getting slammed by the falling water:
Day 3: Hiked to Manoa Falls. Like walking through another universe. Ferns as big as my house. Crazy vines wrapping around towering trees. Stunning. Later that day I got my Mother's Day massage. Sorry, no photos.
Day 4: Scenic drive on Tantalus Road. The lookout near the top was amazing. This is the view of Diamond Head crater: Spent the rest of the day at the Polynesian Cultural Center. The luau was made complete by a giant pit cooked pig. Mmmmm. Here we are with very full bellies:
Day 5: Snorkeling at Lanikai Beach. Followed by kayaking off Kailua Beach to Flat Island.
Day 6: Hiked to the top of Diamond Head. The view from the top is beautiful. I didn't really know the water could be so many different shades of blue:
Sunday, April 18, 2010
1. We are buying a house. As of today, we are officially under contract to buy a wonderful house in Lewisville, North Carolina. I am controlling my urge to mentally decorate.
2. Charlotte is my sweet baby girl, she is almost weined, and I might have to throw myself a dairy party. This is particularly relevant since I managed to eat something dairirific during the past few days and had a diaper-rashed, screaming little ball of fun on my hands for a few hours this evening.
3. Owen is hilarious. I have told this story several times during the past two weeks, so please forgive me, Will, for having to hear it again. I just need to write it down so I don't forget. We were headed into Roly Poly for lunch one day. There was a sign at the door that showed a man holding a briefcase with a big circle and a slash through it. Underneath it read, "No Soliciting." Owen asked what the sign meant, so I explained, "It means you can't sell anything here." We then went inside, the family sat by the door, and I went up to the counter to order. Soon thereafter, a man entered. He was just a regular guy, no briefcase. However, Owen immediatly looked at him and firmly stated, "You can't sell stuff here."
4. Jesus was not a card-carrying member of your political party. Please, please, please stop acting like he was. Intelligent, devout, loving people can be found on both the Republican and Democratic sides of the fence. Love God, love others. That's it. If you put your focus on those things, I'm pretty sure you'll have less time to spout off hateful rhetoric.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
After my freshman year of college I spent the summer in Santa Cruz. I went spelunking while there. Shimmied through holes deep in the ground that you couldn't fit your whole body through unless you were flat on your belly, arms straight in front of you. Fantastic. Probably fairly stupid, but one of the most exhilerating things I've done.
And now I'm scared of skiing. I've been on five different ski trips, sometimes skiing multiple days during those trips, and still the thought of strapping two boards on my feet and heading down a mountain makes me nauseous. Seriously, I'm feeling a little queasy even as I type this. Maybe it's because I'm older and my sense of mortality has kicked in (a friend told me that your brain doesn't develop that far until you are in your twenties), or because I have children and don't want to fly head first into a chairlift pylon and leave them with a vegetable for a mother, or because I'm just a weanie now. Despite my trepidation, I will continue to go on these trips. One, because I love my husband. Two, because I do enjoy myself after I make it down the mountain a few times. Three, because I am determined to get better and stop being a weanie. For example, I want to learn to stop screaming "Aughh!! Aughh!! Watch out!! Watch out!!" whenever I am careening out of control down a tough stretch. Better yet, I want to learn to stop careening out of control. In the mean time, here are some pictures to remind me that being in the snow is indeed wonderful.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
On a related note, Owen pooped in the potty yesterday. As I was helping him with the wiping/hand washing, he looked into the potty and stated, "It looks like a pickle." This statement was repeated to Will when he got home later and Owen clarified, "A brown pickle."
Friday, January 15, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
On a similar note, I had a terrible dream last night. Someone was trying to kill me. I used to have these dreams all the time, until a friend pointed out that maybe I should try praying about it and stop watching scary crap on tv. So I did. And, for the most part, the dreams stopped. Last night I watched a crime show on tv. Why? Why on earth did I go against my better judgment? Because I forget the lessons that I have learned. Because I'm human and fallible and often do things I know I shouldn't. As a result I am chased around by scary girls who moved in across the street, accidentally run into giant spider webs while trying to get away, and wake up tense, holding my breath, on the verge of screaming. Note to self, do not watch crime dramas any more.
I Bruce B. Holland do promise to quit smoking or give up (Waunita?) as of 4:00 P.M. Sunday September 12, 1954.
(signed) Bruce B. Holland
I googled Bruce B. Holland. He's a pretty famous dude. CEO of Holland Construction. Earns an 8 digit salary. Contributes to various campaigns. Top 100 contractors. Only 60 years old though. He would've been five or six. Pretty sure he wasn't making a pact to give up smoking. Or even writing in cursive for that matter. And I'm not sure who or what the word that looks like Waunita is. But I am so darn curious.
I wonder if he was successful? I have my doubts. Not because I'm cynical (which I sometimes am), but because it was an "or" statement. He wanted to leave himself some options, which probably means he wasn't serious about quitting either.
I've been trying to stop picking at my fingernails. I told God a few years ago that I was going to stop. I thought if I told Him, then surely I would follow through. I didn't. It's amazing the effort that it takes to stop a bad habit. So I'm going big now. If you see me looking at, messing with, or chewing on my fingers, stop me. I might not like you very much in that moment, because I hate being told what to do, but I need a village. I know, I know. Just pray about it more, God will give you the willpower. But I believe that God doesn't want everyone to sit around, staring at the sky, waiting on Him to supernaturally take away their problems. He tells us to be wise, to make choices. So I choose to not write my plan on a piece of paper that no one else will ever see, but post it for the world to read.
I Christy Alley promise to quit abusing my fingers as of 2:30 p.m. Sunday January 10, 2010.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
For example, I decided that this year I would use some of my Christmas money to buy a pair of boots. From the beginning, I could see these boots in my mind...tall, black, 2 1/2 or 3" skinny heel, real leather, straight (not slouchy), little to no bling. Real leather was necessary because I am a shoe killer. As in, I wear my shoes for years. Just ask my sister who is very tired of the brown loafers I've been wearing since '97. My two pairs of fake leather boots all lived very short lives, no good. So off I went on my boot search. DSW, JCPenney, Bass, Nine West Outlet. I bought a pair at Nine West that I knew I shouldn't--they were 4". I wore them around the house for 30 minutes, then took them back the same day. TJ Maxx, DSW (a different one), The Shoe Dept, Dillards, Macys, Sears--nothing. Nordstroms, Bakers, Nine West, Rockport, Dillards (a different one). I fell in love with a pair at Dillards that didn't fit. I bought an acceptable pair at Nine West, came home, and called five different Dillards in search of the boot I really wanted. Ordered it over the phone. Now waiting five business days to try it on and return the other pair. This is absurd. But I can't throw down more than ten bucks without feeling 100% confident that I'm getting exactly what I want and that I'm going to get significant use out of it. Am I crazy? Don't answer that. If I were not the crazy money pincher that I am, I would have bought these:
Only $500. And not real snake skin, in case you're wondering. The sales lady said that if they were, they would be "much more expensive(!)"