If I had any sort of self control, or ability to hold back personal information . . then I WOULDN'T HAVE A BLOG NOW WOULD I??
so.
little bit positive.
maybe a little bit preggies..
we shall see ;)
Despite the snow, the birds are chirping their butts off today. . . and I feel the righteous stirrings of spring . . oh yes . . itsa coming! ;)
I am so damn excited!!
This calls for a song!
Now get out there and cause some trouble!
Thomas the Train DVDs are narrated by a number of people. Two recurring narrators are Baldwin and Carlin. Let's see how they compare eh?
Max was mad at his mom. He growled at her.
Then he ran away. He ran away while his Mommy yelled behind him. I hugged my kids tighter. We were on the couch. All snuggle and piled in a heap of blankets and footie jammies.
My kids were scared for Max when he ran. They yelled for him to go back to his Mommy. But he didn't.
Max ran until he found The Wild Things. He growled with them. Then, he ran with them-- cause he was wild too. 
At first The Wild Things were gonna eat Max. But then they made him their king. He got a crown and a wand. At that point, Mac began to talk to his trains. And talk . . and talk . .
And I started feel weepy. The movie is so beautiful. 
Then the movie went on. Max howled with the Wild Things. He became part of their tribe. And I held my little boy and girl so tight. I felt such love well over me.
Having kids is like having a second childhood. Only this time you get to remember all the special of it. And feel all of it that much deeper. And you know it's fleeting. Which makes it heartbreaking too.
We only got through half the movie cause it was bedtime and Mac wasn't watching anymore. He has a little attention span, being three and all.
But I was weeping so hard by the time we turned off the movie. Wiping my tears with the blankie. It was us, sitting there, loving each other. The tribe we created. The Tribe Called Hall. All snuggle. And any time now there will be a third child. If he's a boy, I think we'll call him Max.
It's almost too much for the human spirit to bear, this wild crazy love.
Tomorrow we'll watch the rest of the movie. I better buy some tissues :)
Night Night all!
This weekend I went to the spa, had a brunch with a new Mommy friend and hosted Bunco night. I gots mad hotess skills yo. It was so nice being so pretty and light. I loved filling everyone's drinks . . . making the rounds and chatting with the group. I loved wearing make up and dressing up. I loved it all.
Then, later today, I'm going to yoga with another friend. It's so pleasing to talk to some many other happy women. It so pleasing and makes my toes all twinkley.
But, all this social life is wearing my butt out.
Last night, seriously, there were 12 women at my house. They stayed for 4.5 hours. talking, talking, talking, talking, talking . . . I am not use to such excitement that late into the night. Well, they left at 9.30 but shut up i have two kids. That's late to me! I said shut up! I'm still cool!
THEN before the dozen women left, they all wanted to go out. SERIOUSLY I WAS DYING . . . i just couldn't do it!
And I wanted them out of my house!
Cause they kept talking and talking and hovering near the door! THEY had their coats on and everything.
SERIOUSLY!!! GET OUT!!
Well, it was fun. And I'm really making myself useful in the outside world. Making friends and laughing so much.
Ohh I laugh so easily now. At the least little thing.
I've never belly laughed so much in my life.
It's awesome ya'll!!
And now, I present my new theme song. Which makes me smile :)
Take care!
This will be a hodge podge type post cause really, I've got nothing left for organization. Or brevity. At least not today.
We own a hot tub. Now that we are trying for our third, our access is limited. Unknown dangers for me and my possible with child status. Mr. Hall's access is limited too. Don't want to cook the sperm.
That being said, I was waxing poetic about the hot tub last night. We were sitting in our leather love seat. It's more of a two seater love seat, just enough room for our nightly snuggle, all ensconced in our soft, deep purple blanket. It's a lay-z-boy recliner and we both love it so.
We snuggle at the end of the night and watch our pre-recorded nightly program. These days it's usually Mad Men or Lost. Sometimes we mack and completely forget the show is on. 
Mr. Hall is a twitchy sort though. If we are watching the show he is always twitching his legs. Or moving his hands. IT DRIVES ME AND MY ADD NUTS CAUSE I'M SO SENSITIVE TOWARD NERVOUS TWITCHY NERVOUS ENERGY!!! Cause I'm hyper at baseline. Having a twitchy warm body next to me MAKES ME MORE HYPER SO KNOCK IT OFF ALREADY!!!!!
And he does.
Now, last night, I was waxing poetic about the hot tub and how I miss it. Cause we are trying and all. Which lead the conversation down the usual road. This being an exaltation of the big preggy boobins, the swollen belly . . . all the good stuff.
Then I say, "If my water hasn't broken I can labor in the hot tub." His legs start to twitch. I go on, "I mean, we can just lower the temp a bit and I can get all nekkid and lounge in tub while I am contracting." His arms start to twitch a bit.
I go on. And on about how our son's labor was so magnificent. And really, it truly was. It was so awesome that even now, three years later, I remember the joy and the mess and the pain and I feel all these joyous flashbacks wash over me. And Mr. Hall was there, so much there I forget that it didn't happen to him to. And I am saying this all.
And I'm waxing poetic, connecting it all to the hot tub. And his legs just keep twitching harder except it's not winding me up. Cause I'm not paying attention. I'm being swept away by my own lovey dovey birth story. I'm starting to feel the vibrations from all his twitching. Yet, I'm seeing unicorns and rainbows and cherubs and love. All in the hot tub. And finally, his body is full on spasming AND is now KICKING THE BLANKET OFF OUR LAPS.
"Jesus! What the heck? What's wrong with you?" I say. Kind of shocked and irritated he's interrupting my fantasy.
"NO! No babe, there is no way you are laboring or giving BIRTH IN THE HOTTUB!" His voice is raised, face a bit flushed.
"Hey, I said my water would not be broken. " I point this out, matter of factly. Puzzled by his response.
"NO!! It's just gross!!" His voice is all flustered.
And he got up and twitch-hopped out of the room.
I still am a bit puzzled by this response. Then again, it was messy the last time. So, maybe he has a point ;)
It was funny beyond belief this event. He was so worked up about it. So grossed out. GAWD I love that man! :)
Marriage is a funny thing.
The work of creating one begins even before you meet your husband or wife. It's true. Because iffn you ain't right before you throw down the vows, yon marriage won't be right neither.
Which brings me to Sarah. She is one of the new people who I hang out with in real life. She of the dinner where I got drunk and hit on the waitress. clicky de click click for that story.
When we were chatting during the dinner I asked her, "So, do you like your husband?". You can tell 99% of the health and wealth of a marriage by the person's response. She hesitated and looked down. Then she went into a lengthy defense about how it's getting better. How he's hunting and fishing less and sticking around more.
Two weeks after our dinner, she finds out he's been cheating on her. For a long time. They have two kids. Got married in high school. His name is . . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . . he's name is Rusty. They are white trash.
And then she decided to divorce him. She moved out of the house and got an apartment.
Let's say that again.
He's an asshole that said, "Look, you get an apartment with the two kids. I'll stay here at the house." Rusty is like The King of White Trash.
I judge him, o yes I do.
Here's my dilemma.
Her and her two kids now live very close. The kids are my kids age. And for this, I still want to be her Mommy friend. Which means I can be her friend but not that close.
The problem is she is unstable at this point. And she is not suffering with dignity. She is kind of a basket case. Which is fine really, we all hurt in our own way.
Underneath though, maybe she will rise up. Become a healthier woman. Then maybe she can shape her white trash energy into something beautiful. Something triumphant.
Until then, she'll stay a Mommy friend. And my kids will have more kids to play with.
Here's hoping. :)
This video is um, this side of NSFW, not nudie but close enough.
;)
The sermon this morning, in church, was about exodus.
I really need to get to bible study. Because I am completely lost when they talk about certain books or apostles. Like Luke or Peter or Moses. Was Moses an apostle?
Plus my head was so tired cause the kids woke me up at 6.30 am. And then my thoughts were bouncing all over the place because, well, it's that time again. Could be making a baby as I write this. And then i got all crazy happy thinking about all sorts of stuff along those lines and I missed the meaning of the message. Lost in my thoughts during Exodus no less.
Well, I suppose, if one is lost, best to be lost while in church.
Then, on the way home, after we exited, I heard this song. Which is slamming!!
Happy Valentine's Everyone! Now get out there and hug someone!
Sometimes, Mrs. Hall needs to take break from her quest of spiritual enlightenment.
On such occasions, I listen to this. Because this song is absolute trash and OH I love it so!! :)
NOW! get out there and fight until you see the sunlight!! tee hee hee
Every month, Pancake gets to choose a free book as part of her book club. She was all squeally tonight, chomping at the bit to share this month's pick.
"MOM!! It's all about Gross STUFF animals do. Here, do you wanna me to read it to you?!!"
"Of course sweetie. Go for it!", I holler.
We retire to the living room.
And she opens to this page. About Piranhas.
Slyde is an awesome blogger who asked me what I thought of this movie. And now he has asked me what I think of this one. So here we go . . .
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Making friends, as a kid, is easy. The requirements include living near each other and being around the same age. After that, it's finding out you like the same stuff. And kids pretty much all like the same stuff. Like rubix cubes.
Somewhere around teenage hood we develop different personalities. Different likes, different baggage, different us. Unique grows and forming something special becomes a challenge. 
Sometimes, when people pull back their curtains, it's a complete mess. Which I am not. I pull back from these people. Do.not.want.
But.
Bonding and creating something special is possible. Magical even.
It can all begin by just reaching out. Letting yourself be known.
Then, the right one will find you.
Then, you can let the right one in.
It's an awesome movie by the way. I watched it with Olivia on a cold afternoon. This thing I have with Olivia, it is completely unexpected. And the beginnings are very magical indeed.
So grab a friend and hunker down to watch this one. It's not good to see this movie alone.
This is Mr. Hall and I---by the way ;)
I started this blog because my muse was too chatty to contain. She spoke in words and sentences, urging me to tell my story.
Lately she's been chatting in a different language. Less words, more images and colors. I keep trying to extend them into written posts. This is no good, it's like trying to make a car out of clay.
Yet- I still have the urge to post. I still want to tell my story here. But, it looks like I need to speak through other means. This will be a new direction for Mrs. Hall. Less words, yet still me. And my art, (mine, yours and others), this will be featured too.
It's a crazy challenge I think. But, take heart.. for all my new readers, please, if you want my to sample my writing, click on the homepage and crack open the Mrs. Hall Hall of fame. I'm really quite the writer. Then, if you want more, mine the archives. It's all gold. And really, I think I'll still write, just much less. It's all good.
SO, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO... here are some images pilfered from all over . . and these images help tell the story of Mrs. Hall. 
If these were my dresses, I would redo my entire wedding.
I would wear that number to the rehearsal dinner.
Then, there is this dress.
This would be my wedding gown.
A gown befitting Mrs. Hall.
And this? Dear God, the words aren't there.
Except to say, this gown would be the one I would wear on my honey moon.
Having dinner with my husband, playing footsie under the table.
Making the devil rise.
Yes folks.
Viewing these photos, my thoughts dim and primal forces awaken,
and I go non verbal.
A simple phone rarely is that when calling my mom.
RING RING
My Mom: Hello?
Me: Hey Mom, can you bring over a can opener when you pick up Pancake for her karate today?
MY MOM: What? Where are you? Are you at home right now?!
(editor's note: I'm calling from my cell phone, while I'm at work I use that phone)
Me: Yeah, I'm at home. So, do you have an extra can opener?
My Mom: Well . . . we have the one that goes under the cuppoard, but why are you at home?
Me: Ooh...I've got a bit of the flu.. no biggie.
MY MOM: (starts to go into panic mode) WHAT?? Are you ok?? What's wrong with you??!!!
Me: Nothing, I've got a bit of the flu..its not a big deal..one of the other doctor's has been out all week.
MY MOM: (panic rising) WHAT??!!! The doctor said to STAY HOME ALL WEEK?? Are you OKAY??!!!
ME: MOM!!! (yeah, i yelled at my mom, shut up) I said, a doctor I work with has been out all week, i'm fine, just a little sick. I'm going back to work tomorrow. SO.... ABOUT THE CAN OPENER??
MY MOM: IS PANCAKE AND MAC OK??!! ARE THEY SICK??!!! (PANIC PANIC!!)
ME: MOMM!!! CHRIST!!! EVERYONE IS FINE!! OBVIOUSLY since you are picking her up for karate she is fine. GAAAAH!!!! (yeah, i know, i'm yelling at my mom, i said shut up!!!!)
My mom: Why do you need the can opener? Didn't you just buy one?
ME: MOMM!!!! LOOK!!! ours is not working and we want to start the crock pot but we need a can opener to open the FLIPPING CREAM OF MUSHROOM SOUP!!!!
My mom: Well, there's no need to yell Holly. I can bring extra can opener we have. No problem.
me: Ok good. Pancake really likes it when you bring her to karate. She gets all jazzed when she sees your car and stuff.
My mom: Well, I love bringing her, you know that. Tell her I love her and we'll go out to dinner afterward. Goodbye Holly.
THEN SHE HANGS UP IN A HUFF.
But's it's ok. Because I don't live there anymore!!!
In this church, I could tell Mr. Hall was more relaxed. His body wasn't so stiff, he was melding in the pew. He sang a bit louder and clearer. Then, half way through, he reached over and nuzzled my hand with his.
I felt better too. It was smaller. The color pallet was warmer; more browns and reds. They also had a orchestra of sorts. The bell ringers wore black gloves. They had an electric acoustic guitar player. A baby grand was manned by an earnest soprano. Music was stirring my sleepy heart.
As I was sitting there, listening, I wondered about everyone in the room. I mean, here we all sat; in three sets of pews. Each one of us, saying the prayers and singing the songs. We invoked the universal and mighty, all by declaring the most personal. But, does everyone feel the spirit? The whole lot of us?
Or is it just me?
Then there was the sermon about light. About how God is light. How in times of need, when everything is crashing around us, we need to get back to the building blocks of faith. To rebuild we need to go to the light and the feeling of God's love. And all my millions of thoughts came to a screeching halt.
It was during communion. I was waiting my turn to rise and eat the wafer. I found myself blinking back sticky wicket tears. I tugged the sleeve of my green cardigan over the palm of my hand and dabbed my tears with it. Mr. Hall took notice and smiled. I smiled. And though the tears were dainty, they carried a ton. I tend to forget that my job is hard. I tend to forget that everyday people come to my office and unearth pain for me to take. I tend to take it on, like it's mine to fix. I tend to think I'm in charge of things. As a result, I've been shutting off to my patients lately.
Not listening as much. Not caring as much. Getting shorter and apathetic.
But here, in the pew, I was letting go. My pain was leaving and light was entering. I was so moved. So comforted. Then it was my turn to rise. I took the wafer and the wine.
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