7.30.2008

"There shall be eternal sunshine in the grateful heart." - Celia Thaxter

In the midst of frustration at work today, I decided to step back and take a breath. Several breaths. Deep breath in... and out... ahhhhhh!

I clicked the mouse, at my right, onto "blogspot" and snuck away from work into my own little cyberworld and continued to breath my cares away. But somewhere in the midst of my breathing, I got sidetracked... stuck... on a word.

Soulshine!

It's in the title of my blog, the Allman Brothers wrote a song about it, but what exactly is soulshine? As I muttled through my free-flow of thoughts, I decided there was no better cure to my anxiety than to think about what soulshine means. So here goes!



To me, Soulshine is......


*Knowing that I've made someone else smile

*The oh-so tiny baby that peacefully sleeps in my belly

*The first hug from John when he comes home from work

*Laughing

*Listening to great music in the car, with all the windows down (even more fabulous on those perfect Spring days)

*Coming home to my waggly tailed, toy in tow, pup, who is always happy to see me

*The smell of freshly bloomed lilies

*Delighting in the company of my lady-friends at Charleston's newest cookie bakery

*Family vacations

*The first snuggle into my sateen sheets before I go to sleep at night

*Unexpected surprises

*Witnessing the vast beauty that God has bestowed upon this earth

*The swings at Waterfront Park

*Knowing that I am strong enough to resist temptation

*Fireworks

*Sweet, encouraging emails from my Dad

*New car smell

*That empowered feeling I get right after a good, long workout

*Blowing out the candles on your birthday cake while your loved ones attempt to serenade you

*A change of scenery - whether big or small - new colors, new sounds, new smells (it's good for the soul)

*LIFE! Being here, living (really living) everyday, and showing God that he did not put this body & soul here to waste

7.22.2008

tell it to me straight

Mustard on my shirt.


A glob of ranch dressing in my hair.


BBQ sauce on my right cheek.


Spinach crammed in between my two front teeth.


All happenings that a trendy, trying to be cute, city girl would prefer to avoid when out in public. Or, at the very least, would like to be notified of immediately so she can diffuse the situation.


John, the eternal honest guy, recently informs me oh-so delicately that I have a "problem" with food.


A problem? What do you mean a problem???


Apparently any time that ketchup (or any other condiment that can be quickly removed from the entree) is in my vicinity, it winds up on my face like I'm a walking advertisement. Like Heinz just paid me 50k to embarass myself.


As always, I call him a "liar" and immediately storm into the bathroom to disprove his accusation. I've even gone so far as to call a waiter to the table from across the restaurant for confirmation. Crappy thing is, he's always right! grrrrrrrr. So here I've been floating on this happy, I'm a neat eater, cloud my whole life. I've been living a lie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This could only mean one of two things -

a) I develop a wierd twinge when I'm with him, and only him, that causes me to splatter food on myself

OR

b) This is an on-going problem that no one bothered to help me with.


And if it is the latter of the two, then I just have to know... WHY HAS NO ONE TOLD ME BEFORE???


How many dates have I ruined because I unknowingly wore my leftovers? Or worse, is this a topic of conversation when my friends are alone.... "did you see Courtney's face after she ate that last piece of pizza at lunch today?"



On behalf of myself and all of the other sloppy, tragically unaware, people out there, please don't be embarrassed to pass my way and say "you have some grody goo stuck to the side of your chin!"

7.15.2008

To all you pregos.....

One of my very first gifts as a pregger was the Jenny McCarthy book Belly Laughs, compliments of my sweet Carissa.

With no idea what to expect, I dove in yesterday. Teary-eyed on the first page I wondered, what has my friend gotten me into???

Jenny writes, and I quote...

To Evan-

the little man who changed Mommy's world.

Thank you for filling my soul with giggles and

allowing me to experience the kind of love

I had only read about in fairy tales.

You are my sunshine.



Waterworks!

Fortunately the phone rings shortly after "sunshine" and I was forced to suck up my blubbering and put on the professional face. Maybe it's a good rule of thumb for pregnant women NOT to read "these" books at work. I'm certain that somewhere, some poor male customer's comfort level has been compromised because he mistakenly walked into the office of a woman who just read the above paragraph. But who cares what they think anyway!

My journey with Jenny continues.

Who knew such fascination lay in a book of pregnancy. Actually, I guess it should be pretty fascinating considering it does lead up to the moment where we squeeze something the size of a watermelon out of a hole that's the size of a lemon. So scratch that.
But, seriously, this lady really knows her stuff. After "sunshine" it was ALL sunshine. In fact, it has been nothing but non-stop laughter since the first page of the first chapter. And not normal laughter. You know what I'm talking about. The out loud, uncontrollable, people are staring and pointing, deep, I just did the equivalent of 1,000 crunches LAUGHTER!
This girl, god love 'er, actually goes into detail about weighing her own boobs. The woman weighed her boobs. My kinda girl! On page 59, I almost peed myself when she said, "I have a food scale and I just had to know how they'd compare to a meal, so I plopped a breast up on the little metal tray. Each breast: 5 pounds. That's ten pounds of breast. Think of that in terms of chicken and you'll quickly see that your breasts could feed a family of eight or ten people."
I couldn't thank my dear friend more for sending this little treasure of laughter my way. I may have cried in the following pages but it was only from my inability to control bursts of hysterical cackling. This lady is dead-on and I suggest ALL of you bun-baking females rush out and buy it.
When you do finally get it, read the "Psycho Chick" chapter TWICE, and know that we're all in it together!!!
I'm off to purchase a food scale, so until next time......
Love & Hugs!

7.14.2008

a time for fertilizer

I never paid much attention to butterbeans. I knew that my "nannie" used to make them for after-church lunch on Sundays - cooked in a pound of butter and so tender they melted in your mouth. They're tiny. Green. Grow in pods. That's about all of the information I had gathered. Never had a need for anything further.

Recently, butterbeans became more significant in my life. I discovered that they are actually seeds, eaten as vegetables. Generally 1 to 3 cm in length and oval shaped. They are an excellent nutritional choice and go nicely with a dash of salt and pat of butter.

Much like butterbeans are something else twice as nice. Tiny. Green (but not in the literal form - let's hope). An excellent nutritional choice. Currently measuring in at about 2 1/2 cm. Due to sprout in mid January. And currently resides in the safest nook of my belly...

A precious little baby - our "Butterbean". Something I'm sure that will go even nicer with a dash of salt and pat of butter.