Sunday, February 25, 2007


If you were ever a fan of the "Faith & Art" blog? It's making a comeback... (CLICK HERE FOR VERY VAGUE DETAILS)

Sunday night.

I'm tired. Are you tired? I'm tired.

It's been a very long week. I had two deadlines, one of which has come and gone, the other is coming up. The project is already submitted and I'm just waiting to hear if there are any adjustments that need to be made before going to print. It's the first time in a while that I've worked with a strict deadline and I found I couldn't get it off my mind. I'm discovering I have an anal retentive streak that threatens to leave me sleepless (and useless!) if I don't watch it. I used to think Liam's issues were random, now I wonder if some weren't inherited from his mother...

Speaking of the boy wonder, tonight is Liam's last Sunday as a seven year old. Tomorrow is his last Monday of being a seven year old (starting to imagine how my last week has sounded?) Liam turns eight on Tuesday. And I'm going to break with convention here and say I can honestly see where the time has gone.

It doesn't really seem like "just yesterday" since he was born. It seems like Liam's been a part of our lives forever. I honestly don't remember that self-conscious, post partum person I was when we brought him home. I've tried to block out those feelings of inadequecy I felt when he refused to nurse or the hurt I hid when other babies were in the throes of seperation anxiety and Liam cried when we tried to take him out of the church nursery (true story.) Since his testing back in 2005, when we had some things finally explained to us about who he is and why? Those feelings have been replaced with new ones and I'm finally able to believe the negative things weren't caused by our parenting and many of the positives were. That is a good feeling. A powerful and reassuring feeling. Now when I look at Liam? I see a miracle to watch and be thrilled with instead of a puzzle that needs to be solved.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Tag, I'm it.

Yeah, I'm only a little slow on the draw. Betsy tagged me last month but because I'm a giant weinerschnitzel I had lost the link to her blog and had not caught up. Because I suck lately. Ok, I only semi-suck, the rest of the suckage can be attributed to my crazy body and the turmoil it is causing me lately (did I mention that I hate birth control pills? Because I do. I hate them like that dog outside apparently hates peace and quiet. Shut. UP!)(And could I possibly be more random right now? Probably not.)

So here are five things the world may not know about me:

1. I am a big fan of "The Tick" cartoon. Spoon!

2. I would much rather do art with my hands than with my computer.

3. Though I use a Mac and appreciate its ability to render graphics without wigging out, I really don't dig the whole Mac subculture thing that's going on. I love my computer but it does not make me smarter, cooler, richer, prettier or smell better than anyone else. Just saying. I think we may need some perspective here, people.

4. I get way too emotionally invested in the secrets I read every Sunday. (and thanks to Betsy herself for the heads up on Post Secret a few years ago.)

5. I'm a big fan of Guinness, on tap if possible.

So do I know five people who blog who will also take up this tag and go with it? Let's see...

"Red rover, red rover, send Heather, Amy, Jodi, Linda and anyone from my family who will respond over..." (you can put yours in the comments section!)

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Train wreck.

So I must have been offline most of the last few days or something. How the heck did I miss that Britney Spears shaved her head and is now bald? What the crap is that? I mean, I'm not a big fan or anything but after seeing photos of her (on CNN? And what's that about?! Is CNN the new E! and I missed
it?) Anyway, the photos I've seen of her online or on TV lately? She looks so sad.

I know she has kids to take care of. And I don't know if this crap that's causing her to have so little self-respect and dignity is drugs, drinking, something in her past or personal life or post-partum depression. I don't know who's to blame for her problems, I'm sure she should be held responsible for her role as well, at some point (when you're trying to help someone I don't think telling them how crappy they are is the best way to start the conversation.) Regardless, I feel like I'm watching someone drowning and can't do anything about it, you know? Even when you try to not see it, it's everywhere. I hope someone can reach her before she hurts herself.

Good heavens. She makes my head hurt. And makes me a little sniffy for her.

Thursday, February 15, 2007


*Check comment section for clarification.

I've been doing a little project that required me to answer some simple questions about myself - birthdate, family, location, etc. My "location" answer? Cincinnati. Some of my neighbors here in the northern suburb of Liberty Township disagree. They want nothing to do with the city anymore as they consider it an outdated, badly run embarrassment. They wear their suburban titles proudly. Which is fine... I guess. I mean, it's true, we don't live within city limits (in fact, we're probably a fifteen or twenty minute drive to the city limits.) Not only do we not live in Hamilton County (the county in which the city of Cincinnati is located) but we're in the next county north, and at the middle of that county, closer to the northern edge than the southern. So I get the feeling of being removed. And for people who've moved from other larger urban areas ours seems very removed for sure. I really do get that. But I will always say "Cincinnati" when someone asks. Whether it's habit or stubborness (with a little optimism thrown in) I don't know.

My immediate family moved to the suburbs when I was in kindergarten. But my family, all sides, have their roots down in St. Bernard. It's a tiny little city, surrounded on all sides by the city of Cincinnati. St. Bernard always maintained its independence from the city around it because Proctor & Gamble had many of it's manufacturing facilities within St. Bernard's city limits. The tiny little city raked in big tax revenue and up until a few years ago was doing fairly well for being a non-trendy area so close to downtown. But then Proctor & Gamble pulled out, Ivorydale closed and for the first time in decades - possibly longer - St. Bernard was hurting. It's really sad to see, though we don't see much of it anymore as my Grandparents are no longer there. Grandpa Stegman died when I was in high school and Grandma Stegman moved this past year. Grandpa and Grandma Kelly died when I was in college. Grandpa Joe died eight years ago and Grandma moved into a retirement apartment a few years ago.

We have no living connections left though we stop at Chili Time on the way to the zoo or the way back from the hospital. Then I find myself taking a detour up Tower Avenue and onto Jackson, smiling at the little girl making her way up my Grandparents' front steps into the house I can navigate with my eyes closed yet would probably no longer recognize with my eyes open.

The photo above is from St. Mary's cementary in St. Bernard. It is where two of my grandpas are buried, along with my great grandparents and great-great grandparents. I have personal memories of some of them and only know stories about others. But to be able to walk into a place and know that connection is grounding. My great-grandmothers were friends growing up here and that's what I think of when I've wondered through the tombstones, not the literal reality of death. It's not morbid at all; it's comforting.

Regardless of its crumbling outside, St. Bernard has a history too old to ignore. Like the city of Cincinnati surrounding it, it's just waiting for someone or something to come along and pull it up. I believe it can be done. I believe Cincinnati, too, can once again become the energetic city it was up until the early 1990's. I guess in St. Bernard I see a smaller version of what the city of Cincinnati has to overcome. And I'm praying for both. I can't change my history, and I wouldn't choose to. So the next logical step is to try to preserve it in a way that honors the people that built and populated both cities. Anyone who's read this blog for a while knows some of why we landed here in the suburbs rather than the city when we moved from Maryland last August -- Liam's stuff required a school district with a record for being able to help kids with diverse abilities. Rusty's job is in Mason, another far northern suburb, and he's able to commute fairly quickly and without needing to drive the interstate. We couldn't afford most of the family friendly areas within the city and a school for Liam's stuff (Cincinnati public schools are not equipt, as my friend Jen can verify after teaching there.) And we weren't ready for another rehab... yet. Maybe one day we'll be closer to the city. Regardless? If there is some way of helping restore some of the life, I'm happy to do it. I think I'm going to explore the possibilities and pray about it more specifically.

I want to end this by linking to a blog post I somehow stumbled onto. Honestly, I have no clue how I found this but I'm SO glad I did. I think reading something like this makes me realize my feelings aren't unique. And that gives me a reminder to pray about this, for this area, the cities of St. Bernard and Cincinnati and the people there. If you live anywhere in the Greater Cincinnati area I really want you to read this and pray too. I'm interested and excited to see God answer these prayers:

Wednesday, February 07, 2007


"Sean's face? Meet the table."

"Table? Meet Sean's face."

(Hoping this isn't an ongoing thing.)

Friday, February 02, 2007

Doritos Commercial

So Doritos ran a contest for people to submit commercials and the winner will play during the Super Bowl. This is my favoriate and makes me laugh every time. The actress is hysterical and her "old school" hand sign cracked me up. And the mustache? Dude, the commerical should totally win on the mustache alone.

Here she is, the "Checkout Girl":


You know what's scary? Tonight, I turned on the radio in the car and the station I scanned to advertised that they were having an "All Hits Weekend." And then they played Ice, Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice.

What makes it more than merely scary? I sang along to the chorus. And may possibly have bit my bottom lip and bobbed my head while car dancing.

Then the kicker: the next two songs in their "All Hits Weekend?" Black Eyed Peas and Kid Rock (I'm considering the possibility that my burrito contained hallucinagens and instead of "All Hits Weekend" they were really saying, "Songs that sucked hard weekend.")

Word to your mutha'.
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