i finally got it. the idea for my blog title.
"the other jennifer" OR "just another jennifer" OR "only my aunts call my jenny (though, so too, does my old high school secretary)"
this is why i closed my eyes and chose the first thing blogspot would accept. it's pretty bad. i-jabber was merely the last thing i said about myself to the girls in an email. that was taken. might i add, the person who picked up a blog titled 'i jabber' has no posts whatsoever.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
hal's pals
i must have been 10 or 11 when mom heard about dolls inspired by the cabbage patch craze who featured special accessories. like leg braces, hearing aids, and a wheelchair. they were quite spendy for my parents. i did not beg for one so much as stare in awe of the entire idea flipping through the catalog. a doll. that i could hand-pick. to be like me. hal, the leader of the pack, was a skiing amputee. a one-legged amputee with no prosthesis.
i went with a brown-yarned beauty in pigtails with both her legs and braces. the braces automatically came with crutches. i picked a doll that did not have my disability at all, but rather my interpretation of it. i mean. i had legs. they were fake, but i had them. and the little braces were cute. plus. honestly. having your doll walk around on crutches is way fun.
my doll was also allowed to claim a wheelchair with her insurance provider. i do not remember playing with it much. i, too, had a wheelchair, that i preferred not claim. in 7th grade english i used it as a prop to demonstrate the proper way of pushing a wheelchair over a curb. it was a really lame 'how-to' presentation as i could think of nothing else what with my friend binky already showing, and rightfully so, how to clean and paint ceramics. ceramics that her mother brought us to every wednesday night and was also way fun.
it was a salty purchase, this doll and her braces and wheels, for my parents. especially for a girl just about at the end of her doll-playing years. it's one of those things i've always looked on with great respect and tenderness for their effort. and luckily, back in the 80's you could still get for what you paid for.
i do not know where the brown-yarned gal has gone to, but the cabbage patch girl who stole them was still wearing her braces and crutching along when i unpacked her after my wedding. in the box with all the doll gear was also that wheelchair with a cloth seating and stainless steel frame.
every toddler i've ever adored since has taken a spin in that doll chair. friends, nephews, nieces, cousins. my own. caleb rode it around until he couldn't get out of it anymore. often walking around hobbled with a wheelchair attached to his back-side, getting out of it became sport. and then a few months later when his hips wouldn't fit at all, but his cousin's would. oh. the cruelty of life.
elmo was almost always thrown in the chair upside down and then raced through the house. unbuckled. poor little monster would be ejected and on the ground he'd giggle senselessly as the chair and deranged orderly trampled him.
we got maddy a sweet little baby stroller-walker for her first birthday. she loves it. she loves the wheelchair more. she has a thing about making a seat wherever she is. vern's calf when he's on his knees. target's bottom display shelf. a single stiff piece of cardboard she'll stand on end. this chair on wheels is her thing. and it can double as a stroller. and it turns better than the walker-stroller when racing her brother. (though she'll carry her babies rather than risk brain damaging them to bits.)
that little toy doll wheelchair has lasted longer than two of mine. caleb imagines all kids have wheelchairs to play with.
my parents back in 1986 or 7 would have gotten such a huge charge out of that.
i went with a brown-yarned beauty in pigtails with both her legs and braces. the braces automatically came with crutches. i picked a doll that did not have my disability at all, but rather my interpretation of it. i mean. i had legs. they were fake, but i had them. and the little braces were cute. plus. honestly. having your doll walk around on crutches is way fun.
my doll was also allowed to claim a wheelchair with her insurance provider. i do not remember playing with it much. i, too, had a wheelchair, that i preferred not claim. in 7th grade english i used it as a prop to demonstrate the proper way of pushing a wheelchair over a curb. it was a really lame 'how-to' presentation as i could think of nothing else what with my friend binky already showing, and rightfully so, how to clean and paint ceramics. ceramics that her mother brought us to every wednesday night and was also way fun.
it was a salty purchase, this doll and her braces and wheels, for my parents. especially for a girl just about at the end of her doll-playing years. it's one of those things i've always looked on with great respect and tenderness for their effort. and luckily, back in the 80's you could still get for what you paid for.
i do not know where the brown-yarned gal has gone to, but the cabbage patch girl who stole them was still wearing her braces and crutching along when i unpacked her after my wedding. in the box with all the doll gear was also that wheelchair with a cloth seating and stainless steel frame.
every toddler i've ever adored since has taken a spin in that doll chair. friends, nephews, nieces, cousins. my own. caleb rode it around until he couldn't get out of it anymore. often walking around hobbled with a wheelchair attached to his back-side, getting out of it became sport. and then a few months later when his hips wouldn't fit at all, but his cousin's would. oh. the cruelty of life.
elmo was almost always thrown in the chair upside down and then raced through the house. unbuckled. poor little monster would be ejected and on the ground he'd giggle senselessly as the chair and deranged orderly trampled him.
we got maddy a sweet little baby stroller-walker for her first birthday. she loves it. she loves the wheelchair more. she has a thing about making a seat wherever she is. vern's calf when he's on his knees. target's bottom display shelf. a single stiff piece of cardboard she'll stand on end. this chair on wheels is her thing. and it can double as a stroller. and it turns better than the walker-stroller when racing her brother. (though she'll carry her babies rather than risk brain damaging them to bits.)
that little toy doll wheelchair has lasted longer than two of mine. caleb imagines all kids have wheelchairs to play with.
my parents back in 1986 or 7 would have gotten such a huge charge out of that.
looking up
i've grown so dissatisfied with myself.
1. i've lost my voice. i seem no longer anchored in my thoughts, and my speech and expressions rarely jive with what i really sound like.
2. i've lost sight of my vision. i take pictures in haste, in part because i know that date stamp will save me from complete and utter sorrow when i take a breath and realize they are no longer babies and i have no friggin' clue when maddy began crawling. hence all these terribly shoddy pictures i snap, knowing they aren't worth printing even before the image pauses on the screen.
3. i've stopped growing.
so.
1. write. here.
2. study. these new photoblog tutorials.
3. read. suggestions from lisa's book club.
see how i do with this before tackling the big monster: that sloth that has devoured my once obsessive desire to keep a place for everything and everything in its place and all of it clean. ya know. that whole 'homemaker' thing. and if i can slay the sloth, then maybe onto proper meal planning...
such lofty goals. getting back to where i was before i tripped and fell in this hole. with thanksgiving to God that all things can be course-corrected. even these dismal pictures of the kids given i find the time and proper photoshop suite... fix-it friday has been a real eye-opener.
1. i've lost my voice. i seem no longer anchored in my thoughts, and my speech and expressions rarely jive with what i really sound like.
2. i've lost sight of my vision. i take pictures in haste, in part because i know that date stamp will save me from complete and utter sorrow when i take a breath and realize they are no longer babies and i have no friggin' clue when maddy began crawling. hence all these terribly shoddy pictures i snap, knowing they aren't worth printing even before the image pauses on the screen.
3. i've stopped growing.
so.
1. write. here.
2. study. these new photoblog tutorials.
3. read. suggestions from lisa's book club.
see how i do with this before tackling the big monster: that sloth that has devoured my once obsessive desire to keep a place for everything and everything in its place and all of it clean. ya know. that whole 'homemaker' thing. and if i can slay the sloth, then maybe onto proper meal planning...
such lofty goals. getting back to where i was before i tripped and fell in this hole. with thanksgiving to God that all things can be course-corrected. even these dismal pictures of the kids given i find the time and proper photoshop suite... fix-it friday has been a real eye-opener.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
signage
my favorite billboard ever is the one that the drive-in posted, located just a couple blocks from the railroad tracks, in my small hometown.
"stop and eat here before running into the train"
i keep coming back and editing this to find the right way to express that the fun of this psa is how it was posted around the time mom returned home from rehab. after taking on a southern pacific. there.
"stop and eat here before running into the train"
i keep coming back and editing this to find the right way to express that the fun of this psa is how it was posted around the time mom returned home from rehab. after taking on a southern pacific. there.
wonderful wacky wednesday
i am the best mom ever this morning.
caleb is eating dry cocoa krispies sitting at the end of our bed using the footboard as a tray. watching pbs kids.
i'm trying to think of a justifying theme before he catches on that this was merely the simplest way to satisfy his early-rising hunger without waking his siblings, and more importantly, allowing me to sleep in a little longer, too.
caleb is eating dry cocoa krispies sitting at the end of our bed using the footboard as a tray. watching pbs kids.
i'm trying to think of a justifying theme before he catches on that this was merely the simplest way to satisfy his early-rising hunger without waking his siblings, and more importantly, allowing me to sleep in a little longer, too.
Monday, March 23, 2009
at my age
i am old enough to have octuplets, sell my dot-com networking company for millions and marry bruce willis. whom i find preferable, now that i'm old enough, to tom cruise - my likely pick in this match-up back before i was this magical age.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
25 things about me i will not post on facebook: 6 & 7
6. i hate the smell of outside on my family. i won't even hug them when they walk back in the house if they've been playing hard. or as vern may amend "just standing out there for 5 minutes".
a. i only find chicken farms more appalling.
b. slightly less offensive to me are: the tahoe after driving in the rain - it smells like rank fish, and about every farm in the area that produces or otherwise spreads pig manure.
c. pregnant? vern swore i could smell someone pass gas from the car in the next lane driving down the interstate.
and so.
d. i do not mind dirty diapers. for the first 3-4 months, i actually think they smell kinda sweet. for my own children. i have yet to test this scent affection when applied to other babes.
7. if i could marry anyone of my choosing, it would be duff goldman. i simply adore that man. there would naturally be two rules to this engagement: 1. that he be exactly like his tv persona off-camera, and 2. that we would never consummate the union as i continued an affair with vern.
a. i only find chicken farms more appalling.
b. slightly less offensive to me are: the tahoe after driving in the rain - it smells like rank fish, and about every farm in the area that produces or otherwise spreads pig manure.
c. pregnant? vern swore i could smell someone pass gas from the car in the next lane driving down the interstate.
and so.
d. i do not mind dirty diapers. for the first 3-4 months, i actually think they smell kinda sweet. for my own children. i have yet to test this scent affection when applied to other babes.
7. if i could marry anyone of my choosing, it would be duff goldman. i simply adore that man. there would naturally be two rules to this engagement: 1. that he be exactly like his tv persona off-camera, and 2. that we would never consummate the union as i continued an affair with vern.
leprechaun lost
i descended from a long line of irish until college when someone i worked with noted the swedish spelling of the family name. suddenly i was the only member in this long line of swede's who had the goal of visiting the emerald island as if i belonged to it.
rather than become jaded surrounded by all these boasting their irish heritage, i take refuge in knowing i do not have to live up to making barmbrack and get by with coloring kraft mac-n-cheese green instead.
rather than become jaded surrounded by all these boasting their irish heritage, i take refuge in knowing i do not have to live up to making barmbrack and get by with coloring kraft mac-n-cheese green instead.
Monday, March 16, 2009
nadya vessey
i want to be a mermaid when i grow up. seriously. ariel. a very modest version, though i'm sure speedo could eventually develop a suit so the top looked a little more... well. you know. she sells sea shells...
strolling
i went on a walk the summer i was 12 or 13. i noted how it felt to press my heel onto the sidewalk. how the ankle in my foot would adjust to the grade. my knees raised and lowered to the rhythmic clicking of the joints. it was a cool evening, daylight. i walked the culd de sac of my grandfather's home in omaha. i walked. i paid attention.
i was 7 or 8 swinging my legs. i noted how the weight of my lower leg was released from my knees as my feet arched back up. the pleasant weight reapplied as they came back down. how my legs would glide on their internal propulsion, raised and lowered to the joints, clicking. i swung. i was scolded for kicking my mother by accident of this set-loose propulsion. i swung anyway. i paid attention.
there is something to be said about surgery over the gradual wear-and-tear of life: i get the heads up on when to pay attention before another rung breaks from the ladder.
driving. picking up my children. hugging. standing. leaning.
stairs. at least i do not miss stepping.
i was 7 or 8 swinging my legs. i noted how the weight of my lower leg was released from my knees as my feet arched back up. the pleasant weight reapplied as they came back down. how my legs would glide on their internal propulsion, raised and lowered to the joints, clicking. i swung. i was scolded for kicking my mother by accident of this set-loose propulsion. i swung anyway. i paid attention.
there is something to be said about surgery over the gradual wear-and-tear of life: i get the heads up on when to pay attention before another rung breaks from the ladder.
driving. picking up my children. hugging. standing. leaning.
stairs. at least i do not miss stepping.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
water works
Pool Water
Originally uploaded by saraweagel
i would, if i could, tile my shower in 2x2 squares of this. using the same pool hues for a sleek wall fountain that would entertain the eye while masking sound thus replacing my #1 green sin: running the sink faucet while i use the bathroom. such a fountain would also be subtly chlorine-a-fresh aromatic OR smell like coppertone suntan lotion depending the winter/summer season. of course we would also need to update the tub hardware. and install a new glossy white 3 paneled door with a silver "occupied/unoccupied" latch tag and frosted glass save the text "water works"... or how about "pool room" ... ??
i have plenty of time to get the room title right. it is my refuge, this delusion that we shall ever actually finish remodeling our home.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
the super not's aspirations...
Cakespy's L'il Cuppie Character
Originally uploaded by Bakerella
(the artistry in pastry and paint, not the consumption of cupcakes and coke.)
super not
i try to start every morning imagining what a perfect day with my mother would have been growing up.
1 yogurt facial, 2 time-outs, 6 big brother teases, 4 ear-piercing screams, 1 on-going nursing attempt interrupted twice by a toddler set on going potty all by herself and caleb has given up looking for play-doh required for our play-doh date, owen is spitting up like nobody's business, maddy needs an early nap not yet rocovered from my putting the diaper back on her all by myself, and i've already become that evil mom even i do not want to spend time with. it's 10 am.
1 yogurt facial, 2 time-outs, 6 big brother teases, 4 ear-piercing screams, 1 on-going nursing attempt interrupted twice by a toddler set on going potty all by herself and caleb has given up looking for play-doh required for our play-doh date, owen is spitting up like nobody's business, maddy needs an early nap not yet rocovered from my putting the diaper back on her all by myself, and i've already become that evil mom even i do not want to spend time with. it's 10 am.
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