Lucy Archives - Page 31 of 59

All Good Things Must

February 3, 2009/11 Comments/in Blond, Grumples, Lucy, Trent /by Megan

When I was 19, my parents decided the car I’d been driving around my college town was about to break down (as I’d found myself alone on the dark highway with a dead vehicle on several occasions), and they wanted to buy me a new one. I’d been paying for most of my college expenses on my own, including tuition, and their offer of a car was such a wonderful gift. We searched and searched for the perfect “college car.” We test drove every Jeep I could get my hands on, a few Camry’s, and even a Honda or two. But in the end, we found a great deal on an almost-new Chevy Blazer. It had two doors, POWER WINDOWS (I was so excited about the freakin’ power windows), and a CD player. I was in heaven.

I drove that car for years and years. Even when bits and pieces of it started to be recalled, and Chevy discontinued the model entirely, I loved that car. I named her Daisy, because I was a girl and I was in college, and shut up I don’t care what you think! I took her on road trips to Florida and Tennessee and Colorado and Texas. I burned several little holes in the upholstery with my disgusting smoking habit. One time, when the battery had to be replaced, I drove around with the old battery in the back for weeks before I realized it had tipped over and spilled acid everywhere. Let’s say that was the end of the nice upholstery.

My brother once backed in to it when he was high at my parents’ house, and we had to have the bumper completely replaced. I backed in to a giant tree at the dog park in Lawrence and completely smashed out the rear window. That car had been through some drama.

But good times too. It was the car of Trent and I’s first dates, kisses, trysts that I won’t mention here because, um, ew. One time, while drunk tailgating at a Royals game way back when we were young and fun, Trent decided he needed to brand my car with his love.

Yeah, permanent marker…that never came off.

So when I traded that lovely car in for a brand spanking new vehicle last Friday, I started to shed some tears. I told Trent to take a picture of me with the car, quick, before I lost it. I’m not good at saying goodbye.

Lu just put her head on my shoulder, one hand holding a red balloon that the salesman had given her, the other hand placed on my cheek, whispering in my ear, “You’re fine, Mama. You’re fine. It’s okay.”

Endings make me so sad, sometimes it’s hard for me to realize an ending is really a beginning. Stuff is just that. Stuff.

And it doesn’t hurt that the new car has satellite radio.

Perspective

January 22, 2009/1 Comment/in Happiness, Lucy, Trent /by Megan

via momo-fali

I really don’t know what’s happened to me in the last year. I mean, I’ve always been sarcastic, cynical, bitchy and kind of a pill to hang out with. Sure, I’ve always had my moments of joy and all that, but in general, I don’t think I’m what someone would call a “happy” person. Not that I wasn’t pleasant or pleased with my life, I’m just not the kind of person who’s going to bop around like Racheal Ray, with a goofy smile plastered on my face and stars in my eyes.

But lately I’ve found myself smiling more than normal. I’ve found the stress that usually gathers in my back and neck has started to dissapate. The winter colds, flu and other ailments that tend to plague me from November until March have lessened and the sicknesses I do contract pass by quickly. I’m sleeping better, my body feels better. For the first time in my entire life, I feel like the outside and inside of me look pretty damn good.

And I’m not quite sure where any of this came from.

My marriage is wonderful. My child is funnier than George Carlin. My weekends are spent painting bathrooms and taking afternoon naps with Lulu. My weeknights are full of good food and drinks, mostly with my family, but sometimes even with friends. My job is fantastic, and when so many people are worried about their next paycheck, I’m in a very safe place. My husband’s business is taking off, and he has started to take steps to better his life, which leads to us being so much happier together. I know all of this is true, because right now I have a cold that is making my head throb and my throat ache, yet still, still I feel happy. I should be pissy and grumpy and tired and an all around pain in the ass. But I’m not.

When did I become a happy person? And more importantly, what the hell am I going to write about now?!

Photographic Proof My Kid is Cooler Than Me

January 12, 2009/0 Comments/in Grumples, Lucy /by Megan

Now, don’t you see this as a photo that will flash across the screen during her E! True Hollywood Story.

“Lucy led a hectic life. Even as a child, she craved the rush of adventure. When another kid on her playground called her a dork, she punched him square in the jaw. The black eye that resulted from that fight may have faded, but the rush of adventure stayed with her forever.”

True story: Lu did get in to a fight, but not with another human. It was actually with a coffee table. The coffee table won.

Lu’s Tips to Being Totally Badass: When you have a black eye, make sure to wear your Thomas the Train jammies and your Cars hat. Then, when your mom inevitably posts a picture of you on the Internet, you can ask Disney for advertising compensation.

That Lu, she’s a feisty one.

Happier Times

January 6, 2009/1 Comment/in Family, Happiness, Lucy /by Megan

Hey, remember back in 2008? Back when things were simpler? My computer had not yet crashed, my photos were not yet lost and my mind was less crazy than it is in 2009? Good times.

I guess one good thing came out of my laptop eating its own memory, I was forced to return to my old Macaroni. My crappy, lovable Mad laptop that truly needs to be sent to a graveyard for computers. But it does have iMovie (granted, a very old version, hence the crap videos that I post in awful definition). So, let’s look back to Christmas morning, when Trent was still legally drunk and Lucy was more excited about the cheap paint set and old Carebears blanket (mine when I was a kid) I got her then the giant kitchen set from Santa.

Christmas Morning and Dancing from Megan on Vimeo.

Hopefully I’ll be back in the swing of things soon…but I wouldn’t count on it. Stupid computers.

Video notes: I left in the part where Allison mentions somebody farting because that is the definition of Christmas with my family. Also, Scott and Trent really were still drunk from Christmas Eve, which is why Scott enters the room with such insanity. My favorite part is when Lucy tells all of us the sink doesn’t work because it doesn’t have running water. Spoiled? Never.

Dear Lulu,

December 30, 2008/3 Comments/in Lucy /by Megan

It’s been quite a long time since my last letter to you, love, but I want you to know there were only good intentions behind my decision to keep you a bit further away from the public eye. As another year is coming to a close, I thought it was about time I wrote you a little something, before my memories begin to fade and I’ve forgotten this year completely. About the time I stopped writing to you, you began a strange transformation from little angel baby to big girl. In fact, I am no longer allowed to call you my “baby.” When I do, you promptly furrow your brow in to a very serious expression and say, “I am NOT a baby.” When I’m in a giddy mood and respond with “Yes, you are, you’re my Lulu baby,” you get right up in my face and say sternly, “No, I am not a baby. I am Lucy Goosey.”

You are right, Lulu, you are definitely not a baby. And when I went to the grocery store yesterday, I walked up the baby/toddler aisle and for the first time in over two and a half years, did not buy anything. There just wasn’t anything I needed. You’re out of diapers, you don’t use a sippy cup, you refuse to eat Gerber toddler food anymore…so I slowly walked down the aisle, contemplating how quickly things had changed. Wasn’t it just yesterday I would rush to the store in need of baby food and diapers and wipes and anything that could make my life one iota easier? And now that aisle is obsolute to me.

You have taken to preschool like a fish to water, and it seems to be the place you truly thrive. You love your teachers, your friends, and every day when we drive up to your school, you freak out like you haven’t been there in ages. “I see my school! My school!” you’ll shout as we pull in to the parking lot, and then you almost leap out of the car to get to the entrance. School has been such a great thing for you and me. For you it seems to be teaching so much about socilizing, education, friendships and creativity. When I see art hanging on your classroom wall it’s not hard to find which one is yours. While everyone else colors a few scribbles on the page, you cover the page in crayon. When each child glues one magazine photo that they’ve cut out, one can hardly see your paper as it’s completely covered in clippings. It’s good to know that even with a structured, educational environment, you’re still my silly, crazy, creative Lulu.

For me, your school has given the freedom to really work hard at my career with little guilt. I see how happy you are to be there, how much you enjoy it, and it helps me overcome the sad feeling that I’m not the one with you all day. You still come home and hold me tight each night. You still wake up in the morning with the first words out of your mouth being, “Mama, I love you.” And not just a quick, “I love you.” It’s drawn out, full of feeling and happiness. Jeez, it’s incredible.

With your newfound status as a “big girl” have also come some challenges. You know how to work a room, which is exceedingly frightening. You have learned how to manipulate most adults with a charming smile and a warm hug, giving your father and I a hell of a job keeping you grounded. Now, when you are mad at me or I won’t give you what you want, you stick out your bottom lip and say sternly, “You can’t come to my party.” If that still doesn’t get you what you are seeking, you’ll follow it up with, “Daddy can come to my party. Grammy can come to my party” and then you’ll stomp off. It’s hard to take that threat seriously, Lulu, as without me, your party would be totally lame. I’m the only parent who remembers to bring cupcakes or presents, and without those, your party would be a bit of a bust.

I think my favorite thing about you, Lulu, is that I can see you are probably the coolest kid on the planet. While I aspire (and usually fail) to be a cool, young, geeky hipster, you succeed without even trying. You love great music and movies (Thomas the Train excluded, I love you, Lu, but I freaking hate that stupid train), and dress like a kid straight out of Kansas City’s art district. When you pick out your own clothes, the theme is usually stripes or pink, both of which could never be pulled off by me, but you look like you’re straight out of a J. Crew catalog. You even love to perform, something I could never have the guts to do. This was proven in it’s entirety by the fact that while at Grammy’s for Christmas, you not only figured out how to turn on her kareoke machine, but how to turn on the microphone and belt out some of your favorite Christmas classics. You even did a throaty rap to Mary Had A Little Lamb. Good thing you seem to have a heavy dose of geek in you, or else you could end up as another Paris Hilton.

Lulu, thanks for continuing your streak of awesomeness this year. 2008 began with my baby, but is ending with my daughter. The future holds many exciting things for our family, but I know you can handle it. You will just smile and laugh and hold my hand, we’ll make it, love.

Yours,
Mama

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