While this person has a mysterious resemblance to my father, it is actually Yolanda Gonzalez, or at least that was the name on the Wells Fargo credit card that was mailed to my parents' house with their address and information.
Step 1) Call Wells Fargo and cancel the card
Step 2) File a police report
Step 3) Should you decide to partake in fraud it may be a good rule of thumb not to use your actual name. Bizarre advice, I realize.
Step 4 ) Laugh hysterically while referring to my Dad as Yolanda. It gets progressively funnier.
Randolph. Yolanda. Tomato. To-mah-toe.
At least I can get away with doing stuff like that now. I'm pretty sure neither of the bottom scenarios would have flown when I was little. Bubbles in the family room? No Nintendo for a whole day. Splashing the entire bathroom with water? Grounded.
But somehow Emerson gets away with it all.
I love a house full of chaos and confusion, BUT when it's during normal business hours. Allow me to elaborate.
A few weeks ago my parents were visiting and Ryan had left for work. It was about 6:15 in the morning, and all was quiet, including Emerson. All of the sudden, my Mom came in my room in a panic.
"SOMEONE IS RINGING YOUR DOORBELL!"
Sure enough, there was a car - with no signage - with its flashers on and a dark figure ringing my doorbell. I was more scared than that time I read this book in Elementary school.
Ding-ding. DING-DING!
By now my Dad was staggering around in his hole-y pajamas (no, that's not a preacher joke) with his wild Beethoven hair and furrowed brow. My Mom was panicking and yelling in a whisper, "Don't answer it!!!" I was peeking through the blinds while trying not to make a sound, and the doorbell must have sounded ten more times.
Whoever it was was dead set on us answering the door. I crept downstairs in search of a bat or fire iron, but the closest thing we had was Emerson's Bright Starts Bubble Popper. And that wasn't exactly going to stop an intruder in their tracks.
HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, MISTER!
"Mama, I'm pretty sure if someone wanted to break in the house they wouldn't be ringing the front door." I was still scared to death, and by this time I had Ryan on the phone. We were seconds away from calling the police when I peeked through the curtain and saw one of those Fed Ex tablets.
Fed Ex!?? At 6:15 am!??
I tapped on the window faster than a hummingbird and asked the woman awkwardly through the window if she was delivering something. She pointed at me with the same finger she had apparently used to ring our doorbell thirty times and said huffily, "Well, aren't you expecting a package?!"
Me- a package? I have a home office, lady. I get packages on a daily basis. What could POSSIBLY be so important to require such urgency at this ungodly hour?
Flyers. Educational flyers. Are you KIDDING ME!??!?
You would have thought the woman was delivering an insulin pump. FLYERS!??! I now write specific instructions while ordering marketing materials from their website - "Please leave on the front door step." And to think that I didn't even choose priority shipping. Had I made that selection, she just may have kicked in my door, walked upstairs, and shook me out of my sleep.
But that's the super priority option.
Anyway, work has been awesome. I absolutely love it. I have, of course, had a couple of mishaps here and there.
Like the time I dropped my keys IN THE TOILET in the girls' bathroom in one school and then ran out to the sink to find no soap in the dispenser...so I had to walk back to the office holding my keys like THIS...
...to wash them in the office bathroom. I guess you could say I made my splash.
I am so sick of my allergies and sinuses with all the pollen lately, and poor Emerson's eyes have been irritated for over a week. Here is an actual conversation that took place at our house a few days ago.
Me: "Emerson's eyes are all gunky. She's like that girl from Salt N Pepa."
Ryan: "Umm, don't you mean Left Eye from TLC?"
Me: "Oh yeah. Her."
Check out their latest hit singles, "I Don't Want No Bugs," and "Don't Go Chasing Benadryl."
What a special month May has been so far. I recently got the chance to meet THREE baby girls in 24 hours!
This past weekend was completely dedicated to Mother's Day.
Ryan surprised my mom, his mom, and me with beautiful flowers on Sunday morning.
Last Mother's Day was Emerson's dedication; this year we had a toddler to chase!
Something else unique about last weekend? Mother nature! In hindsight I guess it was totally appropriate to have a tropical storm on Mother's Day weekend.
Hello, Ana!
You see, I experience tropical storms - and hurricanes - on a daily basis.
Like every time I try to put on Emerson's sandals.
Or look for my phone after she has taken out a few books to read.
And the other day after dropping her off at daycare I spent about two hours of my morning with puke on my shirt. That's one way to ensure good customer service.
One word: LYSOL. Ever heard of it!?
Seriously, I was so embarrassed at Bi-Lo.
Circumstances aside, sometimes the greatest thing about life in general is being 100% real. These are the un-calculated moments. Some people call it "not having it all together." I prefer the term: spontaneity.
I'm wiling to bet that for every perfect family photo you see, there are about 100 others like THIS.
But then there is the eye of the storm. These are the moments when- despite the chaos, the spaghetti sauce on my shirt, the pile of bills on the counter, and the cups in every corner of the house- all is right with the world.
The Lord prepared me my whole life to be a mother. Here's how:
In October of 1984 I was born to the most loving mother I can imagine. She (and my Dad) have been my number one fans through EVERYTHING in life. For example:
1988: Wow, you can tie your shoelace? Wonderful!
1990: No training wheels on your bike! Great job!
2002: You got accepted to Governor's School for music? YES!
2011: You're marrying your high school sweetheart? You have our blessing.
2013: Emerson didn't sleep well this week? Let us take care of her tonight, and you get some rest.
Unbelievable, that mother (and father) of mine. My mother is the epitome of kindness, generosity, and love. Not a day goes by that she doesn't say, "Today was a good day, because we had each other." On any given day I ask her 99 questions, and she always provides so much insight. I pray that I will never have to live a day without her.
Sometimes I wonder- and it hurts- to think about the children of the world that don't feel that kind of love. Why was I worthy of not one, but TWO incredible parents who would give me their last breath? And then I'm reminded that, well, what makes us worthy of anything- fresh air? Good health? Running water?
I won't know the answers to these questions this side of Heaven, but I can give thanks. Give THANKS. There is something to be thankful for in each and every situation. It's there.
And then there is my mother in law, who claimed me as her own since our first "date" to their house for Ryan's 16th Birthday. She had her sister (who worked in the school office) come in my Spanish class to formally invite me over.
Ay caramba! I definitely didn't listen to anything else Spanish related for the rest of the class, and I was more nervous than the white rat in a snake exhibit. But I always have felt like part of his family. Now it's just official. His mother does so much for us, and the meals she sends back with us on the weekend always make our lives easier.
*Insert YOUR Mom hero here*
So this is my ode to Mothers of all ages, entitled...
"I Don't Know How You Do It"
I don't know how you do it when you come home from work
And attempt to cook a meal, while I dance around, berserk.
I don't know how you do it when all you want is sleep,
And I am wide awake like a fully charged machine.
I don't know how you do it when the washing machine dings.
The pot is boiling over, and your phone always rings.
I don't know how you do it when you've folded all the clothes,
And I dive- giggling- into the pile...on the floor it goes!
I don't know how you do it when someone calls me names,
But you tell me to turn my cheek; let them be the ones shamed.
I don't know how you did it when I first went to the prom,
The first time I walked, rode a bike, or the first time I called you "Mom."
I don't know how you did it when I went off to college,
After all, aren't you the person I should thank for so much knowledge?
I don't know how you did it when that boy fell for another girl,
You held me tight, wiped my tears and said, "It's not the end of the world."
I don't know how you did it when I came home with a ring,
We picked the dress, the flowers, and the cake, although it tugged at your heartstrings.
I don't know how you did it when you met my baby girl,
You held me right, wiped my tears and said, "This is your whole world."
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