The Manning up of Mrs. Hall

Three areas to discuss in the Manning up of Mrs. Hall



1. The House:

Selling a house is not a linear process. Until I sign the closing papers, I can't be sure about anything. It's a bit like poker, you can work the stats on how to best play but in the end, it all depends on the cards you are dealt. And how you play your hand. It's not really fair and it's painful. But, in the end, there is really no choice.

Or as Mr. Hall says,

"Selling the house is a lot like prison sex".


(do yourself a favor and NEVER GOOGLE THE TERM 'PRISON SEX', TRUST ME)






2. My tolerance for suckage and ability to give

By all accounts, I am a spoiled woman. I have my needs taken care of and am well loved. Dealing with pain, frustration and separation from my husband has been tough. Single motherhood, no matter how fleeting, is tough. It is suckage incorporated.

When things get tough, I get kind of selfish. Thus, I have been neglecting Mr. Hall. I actively put a stop to this about a month ago. I consciously increased my tolerance for pain and actively sought to make him happy. To ease his pain.

Or as Mr. Hall says,

"I really like how you are attacking me lately, and the extra massages and such. . . see, that's all I need babe, and extra goodness with you being on top again."







3. My Go-Go Girl skills

Something broke open last night, inside my head. I took the wee Mac on a bike ride, with him in a kid seat behind me. I was really huffin and puffin. I realized that since I have have kids, especially during the summer, we rarely stay indoors. We are always going someplace or doing something.

This is the polar opposite of my upbringing. In fact, my parent's sit and watch their 888 inch flat screen tv with their 8000 channels every day. I use to have the biggest jonez for TV. Then I married a man who downloads a lot and I became selective. Now, I don’t have time to watch nothing. And the kids, they can't sit long enough to watch anything I want. They only have eyes for SpongeBob.

So I go. And go. And GO GO GO. And I love it!!! I never want to go back to a sedentary life. Never want to have a life without adventure, even it if is taking a walk around the block. And it doesn’t even phase me anymore, the huffing and puffing, the taking of two children on my own, out into the wilds of local parks and bike rides.

I could leave this office right now, pick up the kids and drive to Vegas without even packing. It would be no problem what so ever. Wouldn't have to plan or make lists or research or worry or obsess. Because I can do anything and go anywhere.

I can GO GO GO!!!



I am more free than I have ever been lately.

Manning up indeed.

Wax on/wax off, the sex face and killing Zombies that were Left 4 Dead

It happens every time when I get my eyebrows waxed.

I lay down on a table, close my eyes and relax my hands. I deep breathe and repeat the word "bird" over and over in my brain. It is a mantra to relax me.

Yet, every damn time, it happens.

First, the girl takes a cotton ball and smooths the hair with rubbing alcohol. Then I see her stirring the wax with a popsicle stick. I close my eyes. I feel the warm, hot wax coat my lower brow. It grips the skin and I feel tugging while she smooths it on. Then she takes muslin cloth and smooths that down, pressing hard with her index fingers.

At this point my eyes have teared up. Only my eyes are shut, so the tears are gunky and gluey. My eyelids are cemented to my eyeballs.

RIP!!!

I try not to flinch but my whole body jerks. I pry open my eyes. My gluey tears spill out like a bucket of hot baby oil was kicked over.

This is repeated RIP!!!
three RIP!!!
moreRIP!!!

times to finish waxing the brows of Mrs. Hall.

It's embarrassing. And despite my deep breathing and mantras IT JUST KEEPS HAPPENING!! I mean, it's not that painful. I have no idea what the hell my deal is with this.

And the women that wax my brows? They often have a look of horror/concern on their faces. And I try to explain, that really, I'm just a wuss. A scaredy cat. No cause for alarm.

The woman last night, she didn't react this way. She just smiled gently. And she was really kind. She wiped my tears and said, it's ok, we are almost done.

It's ok, we are almost done, she said.

And when she painted my toes, she was really kind. She spent a good 15 minutes creating little flower designs on my toes. She didn't hurry or linger. It was just the right amount of attention. Which is the hard part for me, during these appointments. The attention.

It is most difficult during the pedicure. While tending to the toes, the women often massage the foot/lower leg. I have to consciously relax during this. Massage has a paradoxical effect on me.

It tenses me. gaaahh... touching .... gaaahhh... stranger ...... And I don't want to appear LIKE THE FREAK I AM WHO DOESN'T LIKE MASSAGES so I just really try to stay calm and nice. And quiet.

Above all, I try to stay quiet. Which, considering she didn't really speak English, was not that hard.

But, when I was tearing up during the wax, it set off real sadness. Real tears on the inside. I think she sensed that and was really nice to me. Not nice in a 'I'm doing this for the tips' kind of way but really nice. She took care while she tended to me.

Then I came home and was really nice to Mr. Hall. He was playing one of his favorite computer games, Left 4 Dead. Which involves killing Zombies. I gave him a thorough scalp, neck and shoulder message. All while he killed Zombies.



Lots and lots and lots of Zombie killing to be had in that game.



This game is a group type game. Each player is part of a team. You log on and join in. It is very interesting listening to the chatter of other players, hearing Australian or German accents. But, you work as a team, going around killing zombies, helping bandage each other up when somebody gets shot.



Helping each other out is essential, you can't survive any other way.



Mr. Hall speaks softly while killing scores and scores of Zombies. It's like he's in a meditative trance. He really must like this game. After all, the entire time, when chasing and shooting with his hands on the keyboard, he kept making sex faces. The kind of faces he makes, well, the kind of faces he makes while being very nice to me ;)

Bands I'm trying to break up with: Ani Difranco

Let me introduce a woman who blends both the smart and the heart.

The Righteous Babe, Ms. Ani Difranco.



When Mr. Hall and I first lived together, we rented the lower level of a house. It had a gravel driveway. This was about 8 years ago.

i heard the sound of your bike,
as your wheels hit the gravel,
then your engine in the driveway
cutting off

After the long days of nursing school, I would scurry home. I would pull into the driveway, getting all excited when I saw his Red Ford Taurus SHO, all perfectly parked. We took care of each other in that apartment. Learning to live together, learning how to be man and wife.

and i pushed through the screen door
and i stood out on the porch
thinking fight, fight, fight
at all costs,

At that time, I was crawling out of my feral skin. I was very wild and manically driven to become a nurse and a wife. I was chubby and needy. There was a marked lack of thought when I acted and spoke. He weathered a lot of my wild, unthinking outbursts.

but instead i let you in,
just like i've always done
and i sat you down and offered you a beer

and across the kitchen table
i fired several rounds,
but you were still sitting here
when the smoke cleared.

A year past. The day before I graduated as a nurse, he proposed and we married soon after that. Then we moved two hours away. We briefly stayed a new apartment and got pregnant. Then, we bought a house. We bought the house just two hours after seeing it. We loved it that much. Our hearts were bursting.

That house has proven to be trouble.



and oh, oh,
let me count the ways
that i abhore you,
and you were never a good lay
and you were never a good friend
but, oh, oh, what else can i say...
i adore you

We are coming to the conclusion of that house. Someone has loved it enough to see past the trouble and buy it. And I thought I was ready. We signed the 'accepted offer' papers and drove to Kinkos this morning, to fax the papers. We parked, Mr. Hall killed the engine. And then, out of nowhere, I started sobbing. I don't want to leave that house. My heart is breaking. And my head, my head is not listening.

Yet, here we are. Time to move.





all i need is my leather,
one t-shirt and two socks,
i'll keep my hands warm
in your pockets
and we can use the engine block,

and we'll ride out to california
with my arms around your chest,
and i'll pretend that this is real
'cuz this is what i like best,


We've looked through so many goddamn houses up here. I am tired. We have to choose a house to breathe life into. Only we are hemming and hawing. Picking and choosing. Which is making our pain grow deeper.

All of the sudden, what took us two hours the last time around is threatening to take weeks, months, or even years. If our hearts won't let us, we have to choose with our heads. Let our hearts begin to heal.

and you've been juggling two women
like a stupid circus clown
telling us both we are the one

Mr. Hall talks during the open houses. He talks to me, other people who are looking, to the agents. He carries a tiny, bright flashlight and examines things. He exhausts the real estate agents, explaining design flaws in engineer speak. He uses a blend of circular logic and salesmanship. I stand beside him, listening to the way he weaves the web. Drawing the agents in, preparing them for the lower price we'll offer.

Only we haven't offered anything yet. And I leave each open house a little sadder. And sadder still.


and maybe you can keep me from ever being happy,
but you're not gonna stop me from having fun.
so let's go before i change my mind
i'll leave the luggage of all your lies behind
'cuz i am bigger than everything that came before

It's time to shut this off now. Time to break up with it all. Stop wishing the past will come back to life and start being here, with what is. Time to plant the seeds that will grow roots.





The last time I saw Ani Difranco, I was six weeks pregnant with Pancake. Six weeks. Not even pregnant enough to turn the stick blue. I had no idea what was growing, what was coming. But, it turned out bigger and better than anything that came before.

Just like the new House of Hall.


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Gravel by Ani Difranco *

Click here to hear the song live.



* I want to apologize for the bootleg quality here. Let me just say Ani Difranco doesn't MAKE videos and all her songs on the web are bootleg. AND all the women that go to the shows are mouthy and loud. AND she often plays her songs AT WARP SPEED cause she's a hyper person. So, this is the best I could do. Anyone want to make a video for me? :)

I want a bathroom I can play baseball in

Looking for houses today.

I would like a bathroom that I can play baseball in.

But.

I'll settle for one that makes my heart sing and my husband nod and smile with satisfaction.

Wish us luck.


I swear, this song is my personal anthem.

ROCK ON Y'ALL!!

I wanna be a rock star

The art of sucking it up

This is my daughter and I--about three years ago.

My baby girl is no longer stroller size. She's six and half now. Last month, she got new rollerblades. When I bought them, I didn't mess around. I took her to a sporting goods store and had her fitted. I had her take a spin around the store and everything. She had been using these up until then.

These are plastic barbie skates. Not quality.

Yet, with the barbie skates, she had gone very far. She had been teaching herself to skate. This involved a lot of falling and failing. All the while, with little or no prompting from either parent, she sucked it up. She was self regulating her determination.

When she picked out a helmet and pads at the sporting goods store, she said, "Mom, I don't really need princess ones anymore." I purchased real pads for her. In black.

We practiced with the new skates on basketball courts and track loops. Then, last night, we took a walk on the regular sidewalks on our block. She skated and fell. And fell. A LOT. Yet, there it was, no tears or whining. Then, after a super harsh fall, she looked up at me while splayed out on someone's lawn. She croaked, "I'm no good at skating." I could see her tiny chin, starting to bounce and quiver. Tiny pink bottom lip, jutting out. Eyes all moist.

I looked straight ahead, "I'm not gonna hear that from you, 'cause it's not true."

I said it calmly. Then I started walking, slowly. Not helping her up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO that just killed me. Kills me to write it too. Every mommy instinct got all apey inside. I was just burning with crazy mommy urges to rush, to make it better. I was all tense, the inner voice getting growly, Fix it, run to her, make it better, she needs me, make it better!!!

But running over, scooping her up, is not what she needed. Not this time. I am teaching my mommy instinct the art of discernment. To help my daughter in the best way. I bit my lower lip, lowered my shoulders and calmly walked forward. Breathing, breathing, breathing . . .

Then, she got up.

Barreled forward.

Blew passed me.

And barreled all the way home like a bat outta hell.

I had to jog to keep up with her. And when I caught up with her, she was sitting on the front porch, taking her skates off. She was all sweaty and short of breath.

She looked up and said, "MOM! THAT WAS FUN!!!


I WAS GOING SO FAST!!"

Crazy Eights and Flying to Egypt

"Flight into Egypt"-detail of Mary and Child*
Artist: Michelangelo

The flight into Egypt is a biblical event described in the Gospel of Matthew (2:13-23), in which Joseph fled to Egypt with his wife Mary and infant son Jesus after a visit by Magi because they learn that King Herod intends to kill the infants of that area.

And now, Crazy Eights, lifted from Mrs. Joanna Jenkins, whose blog is very fine indeed.


Here are the 8's....

8 things I'm looking forward to:

1. Seeing Mr. Hall when I get home
2. Seeing the kids when I get home.
3. Not wearing a coat for the next month or two
4. Looking through houses (online and in person)
5. Going to our new favorite park, chatting with other parents
6. Watching "The Watchman" movie (more excited for my husband-he's all jazzed)
7. Yoga on Friday
8. Making the huge bubbles sometime this week.


8 things I did yesterday

1. Made omelets
2. Went swimming with the tribe called Hall, noticed my right boobin was showing because my toddler son pulled my top down (eek!!)
3. Walked through a really expensive house and got absolutely loopy with the awesomeness of it. Started giggling and slapping at my husband.
4. Had some delicious turkey burgers made a local butcher shop. These are phenomenal burgers people! Pure genius with the spices and craftsmanship!
5. Gave a new mom some potty training advice at the park.(she asked :)
6. Took a hot, long and hot hot hot shower.
7. Had a margarita.
8. Had a rousing round of the maritals with my husband. That was quite nice ;)




8 things I wish I could do

1. Go home to our new house.
2. Go on long motorcycle rides with Mr. Hall
3. Sing well
4. Drive well
5. Fly (like a super hero)
6. Yoga every day
7. Detect sarcasm easier
8. Be a roller girl


8 places I've traveled to

1. San Fransisco
2. Mexico
3. Colorado
4. Hawaii
5. Illinois
6. New York
7. Amsterdam
(note to self, need to get out more :)

8 places I'd like to travel to

1. Paris
2. Greece
3. Spain
4. Jamaica
5. South America (i realize that is a huge continent, haven't researched it enough to figure out the best spots yet)
6. Japan
7. India
8. Egypt

*Here is entire painting in all it's glory



Feel free to keep this crazy eights going . . . . :)

Stalking my future house

I've been spending a lot of time looking at houses. I find myself getting greedy with different features. Bigger houses, bigger price tags. Flipping through the photos again and again. Driving by my favorite houses again and again.

But, the point of all this- is not to have big effing house, all tricked out and beyond our means. This is not a game of Pimp My House.

So, let's pause and listen to the man who hosts Pimp My Ride.

And hear his thanks for all that he has been given.

And let me feel my blessings and be thankful.

And then, we will find a house befitting the House of Hall :)