Take It From the Top

Like most mornings, I got up today, fumbled into the kitchen for my Cheerios (and highly craved milk), and sat at my computer to check my email, unread blogs, and facebook. It's my morning ritual. The ritual is completed and I'm sitting here with 5 billion things on my mind and no idea how to start sorting through them all to make a sensible post. And do I take the extra time (it's not like I don't have it) to find a way to make each completely different subject flow together, or do I take the easy way out and just write 15 different posts so that your reader feed is crammed with new stuff? (Or I could continue writing in run-ons.) And then...does anyone really care?!

How about I just take it from the top? As in, the top of my head. We'll just let it all spill out, in true Audra fashion. In real life, to hear me talk about all these things, I'd probably be speaking at the rate of an auctioneer, only more annoyingly. But once I'm finished "unloading," I can breathe a sigh of relief that this is typed somewhere and off my chest. Not only do I cast my burdens on the Lord, but I cast them on blogger as well.

My house is almost eerily quiet, and I can't help but think about how "times, they are a' changin!" The next time I hear quiet like this, I'll be in my 50s and my children will be off to college! The quiet and organization of the house is nice. But the quiet is also an emptiness when it goes on day after day after day. It needs coos and babbles and laughing...and even crying & screaming! I feel part crazy being the somewhat clean freak that I am, wishing for Cheerios on the floor, bottles on the counter, and toys in my open living room. Soon & very soon! You can remind me of my wishes later... ;)

(Insert witty, topic changing line here)

I don't know why this has suddenly harped on me so greatly, but I am just totally appalled at the lack of self respect (& respect for others!) some girls have these days. Yesterday during the 15 seconds we spent parking and dropping back off a video at Blockbuster, two teenagers walked out of the store with two different teenage boys wearing shorts so short you could tell exactly where their legs ended and their rear ends began. Then we pulled through the gas station where a young 13 or 14 year old stepped out of her family van with a decent length skirt folded half way up! My automatic thought was, "Where is your mother when you're dressed like this?!" Then I saw her mother, and realized exactly why she dressed the way she did. I guess the part that bothers me so much is that I don't know what to do about it! Sure, I can do my best to teach my children differently, but it hurts me that I can't shield them from these things. It bothers me that girls, for generations in some families, have not been taught how to modestly dress themselves to honor not only God, but their bodies and other people's minds. I just want to walk up to them and lovingly say, "Sweetheart, I know you think this is attractive, but you're not doing yourself any favors. Cover up! It doesn't have to be a parka. Just something longer!" Or I want to stand in the middle of the parking lot and give a speech. Something! Anything! But I feel helpless! Suggestions?

(Stepping off my rant box. Interject next topic changing sentence. As you can see, I'm going the lazy route.)

Let's go the pregnancy route now...

I always told myself I wouldn't be one of those pregnant ladies who had bulging bellies poking out from underneath their maternity shirts. Who wants to see that?! Well you know what? Sometimes you just can't help it! The shirt fits one day- the next day you wear it out and realize that last 5 pounds you gained went straight to that spot between your stretchy skirt line and your big, protruding belly. And so it peeks out. You pull down to cover it up. Then up pull up to cover up. Then you consider buying more $20 dollar plain cotton shirts that are waaaay overpriced simply because they carry the maternity label. Then you decide you only have 3 weeks left anyway and most of it will be spent somewhere between the air conditioner and the open freezer door. Let the bulging belly peek. It that immodest? I can tell you that I highly doubt I'll have the oldest and loneliest of men drooling over this. (Please add lonely and loneliest to the list of words I've always had trouble spelling. I just always think it should be lonley and lonliest. I have no idea why. Thank you, spellcheck!)

Please tell me I'm crazy. Last night as Andrew and I were making out a list of last minute items to pack for hospital when I'm wailing in pain (will my shampoo really be that important?), I added "laptop" aloud to the list. My husband's eyes shot over at me, wondering if I'd just had a pregnancy moment and said the wrong thing. You see, my husband the computer guru knows I am frequently jealous of his computer and his computer time. They have a very tight relationship, and he was assured the last member of our quaint family I wanted tagging along with us for this big journey was Dell. "Well, how else will I let everybody know the baby has been born?" I said. Uh, a phone, maybe? No. Because invariably I will forget someone and hurt their feelings. This way we're completely covered! Do we need the computer charger? No, because one quick post will be all that's needed! The love affair with networking can return after we get home from the hospital. So there. Am I crazy? Cause I got a look kinda like I was crazy when I mentioned this to two people. Do I even care if they think I'm crazy? The good Lord knows when I get home I certainly won't have time to sit down and blog! (Maybe in my sleep...)

As I've sat here and cleared my mind of 3/1500 of the things I've been bombarded with this morning, I now have writer's block and can't remember the other 1497 things. (Please note, I almost had to get a calculator out for that math.) I'm sure they'll come flooding back with a vengeance later! Sorry for this awkward post, but please rest assured I have breathed a small sigh of relief. I now have enough brain function free to help me remember how to walk from the chair to the couch. ;)