So long, status quo: 10/01/2007

It's funny how in the last few months something will happen and I'll think, "I have to remember to blog this," as if I do it on a regular, unwavering basis. However, the brilliant people in my life continue to inspire me, so I thought I would rejoin the blogging world as it were, and share the record-worthy moments as they happen.

This past weekend, for instance: unexpectedly lovely memories arose out of seemingly-ordinary events.

Saturday night, I baby-sat for my darling niece and nephew. Now, t knows how much I adore her children, but she also knows how energetic and feisty they can be (ask her about the trip to the Gap in Carlsbad this summer). I prepared myself for an evening of running, jumping, animal-throwing, and possible-screaming-because-someone-got-tackled-and-accidentally-kicked-in-the-face-and-guess-what?-it's time-for-everyone-to-go-to-bed-now-because-Ande-has-had-it-up-to-here.

Y'know. One of those kind of nights.

Prior to coming to that beautiful house, I stopped at Michael's to pick up a craft for Rhett and I to do. I purchased a do-it-yourself Halloween-themed gingerbread house complete with orange and black frosting, candy corn, gum-drops, the works.

What a blast! Rhett, and Emmie, I might add, decorated that thing for hours. Each child (quietly!) worked on their own side of the house, organized the decorations, helped make the frosting, and then cleaned up and went to bed without complaint! Actually, while I put Emmie down to sleep, Rhett cleaned up the whole table and cleared everything up. During our time together, Rhett told me stories about animals and Mom and Dad and Emmie and Mickey Mouse and The Jungle Book, while Emmie would hurl herself at me, frosting-spattered mouth and arms, open wide. Somewhere, in-between Emmie's sugary kisses and Rhett's, "I love you, Ande, are you coming tomorrow?" I felt so blessed that God would give me such a perfect oasis of love in the middle of this chaotic life.

I (uncharacteristically) forgot my camera, so I took a phone-picture. It doesn't do the moment justice, but I think the idea comes through.

Fast-forward to early Sunday morning. Those of you who know me well know that, like most theatre-people, I am not a morning person. If the world began at noon everyday I would be a happy, happy individual. Couple that with my unfortunate apathy toward exercise and one would soon realize how unenthusiastic I was about leading a group of dramatic teenagers in the Diabetes Walk at 8am. Never mind that it was for an absolutely legitimate cause; I didn't want to go. Nevertheless, at 6:30am, I dragged my disgruntled, Starbucks-deprived body ( I am so put-upon) out of the house to meet 15 hyped-up adolescents in La Jolla.

Imagine my surprise when, over the course of the morning, I realized I was having a fantastic time. I was amazed and inspired by the thousands of people who donated countless hours and dollars to help eradicate diabetes. The kids were wonderful. Their enthusiasm and humor kept the energy up, and we talked, ran, laughed, and danced our way through the 5k. Thank You, Lord, for this unexpected blessing.

I'm going to attempt to post some pictures of the walk. Stand back. Someone could get hurt.