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M Simone Boyd

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Isaac and the 42

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Isaac, my first brother, and I got off to a rough start before he was even born. When asked if I was excited about being a big sister, I informed people that I intended to throw him in the trash as soon as he was born. You see, I had four glorious years of being an only child before Isaac made his grand entrance into the world on August 1st.  Please note that Isaac even had the audacity to steal my birth month.

Isaac and Me on his first day home

But, as time went on my sentiments changed and I began to love and even defend the little guy. Once, when my brother was playing in a basketball tournament and a guy from the opposing team fouled, in my opinion, a little roughly. I ran out onto the court, tackled the offender, and proceeded to inform him that if he laid another hand on my brother I would smack his face.

The poor 12-year-old didn’t know what hit him. I was 16ish at the time and probably should have known better, but I simply could not tolerate my brother being knocked around. I have matured since then, and I no longer threaten to smack people.

My brother Isaac has matured also. He is a wonderful father to Isaac V, husband to Rebekah, and a budding actor. He was an extra in the movie 42, that opens this weekend. The 42 is backed on the life of Jackie Robinson, the first black american to play in American Major League Baseball.

But, this is not Isaac’s first acting gig.  At 5, he was featured in Beary Bear’s Bedtime Bible Stories. The video series was filmed for several weeks, and Isaac was paid $10 dollars per hour, which amounted to a small fortune in the early 90’s. I can’t help, but think Isaac’s role in the 42 is a sign of his big future ahead. Isaac graduates from college in May, and I am excited about what is ahead for him.

Isaac IV and his son, Isaac V

 

 

Getting Married, Gaining Weight

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Image from Fitness Magazine
In the past two months, two separate colleagues inquired about whether or not I continue to run. (The answer is no. I have switched to pilates, kickboxing, and spinning.) Now, I didn’t think much about the first inquiry. But, the second inquiry was about a week later and I had noticed that my clothes seemed to be shrinking.

One morning I was feeling brave and stepped onto the scale. It was confirmed. I had gained weight. Eight pounds in the mere six months that Morris and I have been married.

I place most of the blame with Morris. He likes to eat dinner…every night. We have even taken up menu planning as a weekend activity.  In my pre- married days, I rarely ate dinner. Breakfast consisted of a banana or an apple. Followed by a mid-morning snack of almonds, and a big lunch of gluten-free pasta and carrots.  Dinner usually consisted of a salad or green tea or popcorn, but never all three, and often I skipped all three to gain an extra hour of sleep.

That has all changed. Morris eats four square meals a day, and in my zeal to be a good wife I have followed suit. Unfortunately, I have paid for it in pounds. I have been trying to lose the pounds for four weeks to no avail. So, I googled “getting married, gaining weight” and found a wealth of tips for weight loss. Everyone from WebMD to USA Today have commented on the phenomenon. So, it is comforting to know that I am not alone. One tip said to blog about your weight loss goal. So, here I be.

I have no plans to turn this into a weight loss blog, but I will add one sentence at the end of each post to keep you up to date and to keep me honest. Thank you for your support. My goal is to lose eight pounds by Thanksgiving day.

Jury Duty and the Home Wrecker

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My maternal grandfather (not the grandfather I lived with for two years), cheated on my grandmother throughout their entire marriage. His indiscretions led to him fathering two children. I was two years old when my grandmother passed away, but his mistake colored my perspective of cheating spouses forever.

I loathe cheaters. As a Christian, I ought not loathe anyone. However, whenever a cheating scandal is alive and well in the media. I can’t help but think that the cheater is being maligned accordingly. In my view, Kobe Bryant deserved to be prosecuted, President Clinton deserved impeachment, and Tiger Woods had it comin’. I could continue.

My disgust for cheaters reared its ugly head while I served on Jury Duty too.

A gentleman on my panel, flirted openly with a lady juror. He was wearing a wedding band, and she was not. She whispered in his ear, he would laugh, and I would shoot them dirty looks. I even discussed my problem with Morris and explained that the gentleman and the “raggedy home-wrecker” came to jury duty together and spent all of our down time fawning over each other. Morris forbade me to confront the couple, but said that I could continue to give them the stink eye.

I was partially obedient. I gave them dirty looks, and sat uncomfortably close to the couple. My plan worked. The lady sat farther away, and at least they could not hold hands. I felt triumphant, because on my final day of jury duty there was no public display of affection between the two.

At the end of the trial, we had to pick a foreman. The gentleman declined to be foreman, because his wife was serving on the jury.

WHAT?!?! 

Yes, the gentleman and the lady I described as the “raggedy home-wrecker” are married.

Lesson Learned: Don’t jump to conclusions, Simone.

Question: Has jumping to conclusions ever made you look ridiculous? Looking for a friend. 

Restaurant Eve

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Have you ever been in a situation where the room goes silent, everything is in slow motion, and despite the fact that there are 30 to 40 people in the room you realize…you are the center of attention?

Perhaps that’s happened to all of us. We realize, we should know something that we just don’t know.

That happened to me yesterday.

Yesterday, Morris and I met a dear friend for dinner at Restaurant Eve. It was her birthday and cause for a celebration. I had not seen her in a while. So, I got a little carried away with catching up and forgot to review the menu in detail.

Note to self: review the menu, then chat.

Before I knew it our server, Don, was coming around to take orders. Thankfully, he began taking orders at the other end of the table. So, I had about a minute and a half to peruse the menu. I only understood about every other word on the menu. So, I made an executive decision to focus on the words that I understood.

Don: What will you have for an appetizer, Miss?

Me: I’ll have the Tempura Squash

Don: And for an entrée?

Me: I’ll have the Honeycomb Blueberry…

Don: ….do you mean the Honeycomb Blueberry Tripe?

Me: Yes, the Tripe.

Don: Have you ever had Tripe before?

Me: No, I have not.

Don (lowering his voice): Do you know what Tripe is?

Me: No, I haven’t the slightest idea.

The restaurant becomes quite. Morris’ eyes enlarge and his lips press together, as if he is holding his breath. We also have the attention of our neighboring diners.

Don calmly walks to my side of the table and explains that Tripe is the second stomach of water buffalo. I respond by bursting into a fit of giggles/tears and ask for the vegetarian option.

Morris learned something about me yesterday. I am not easily embarrassed. While he is completely mortified at the incident, I am airing this snafu. Morris views the incident as horrific. I view the incident as hilarious.

I’ve been warned that I may be viewed as simple-minded if this story is published. For the record,  I managed to discuss the Higgs Boson Particle (the God-Particle) and my love for all things public radio at the same dinner table. So, for now…I think I’m safe.

 

Michaela, the Majestic

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After enduring the
arrival of my four brothers, my sister arrived and I was thrilled. Finally, another girl had graced the my household! Michaela was a cute baby too. She had chubby little legs and cheeks that puffed up like a little chipmunk.
 

Michaela went everywhere with me. I was 12 and Michaela was a year old when we flew to El Paso, TX to spend the summer with our grandparents. I can still remember changing planes in Dallas. I had a bright pink leash attached to her wrist and a diaper bag hanging from my shoulder as we trotted through the airport trying to find our plane. Of course, people assumed she was my daughter.

 

By the way, can you believe my parents let me, a 12-year  old, fly across the country from Tennessee to Texas with a one-year old baby? They are daring. More on them later.

 

Now that cute baby with the chubby little legs is almost an adult. She is nineteen and beautiful. Some might say she is already an adult, but in my family you are not an adult until you move out and pay your own bills.

 

Michaela is a Freshman in college, her major is Civil Engineering,she runs the IT Department for my parents non-profit (which really means she shows my parents how to attach files and manages the website), she works at Aeropostale clothing, she is an aspiring fashion designer and built her first robot last semester.

 

She is also a tough task master. I received this e-mail from her last month: It would be so ever kind of you if you could write another entry for your blog or I am not going to follow you. Final. Love the best sister ever created by the hands of GOD, Michaela.

 

I rolled in the floor laughing.

 


Another Blog?

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Yes, another one. My last blog was almost a year and a half ago. I wrote about my younger brother getting married before me, and my preparation to see my well-meaning family.

 

My brother’s wedding was the best wedding I’ve ever been too! It was sincere, fun, it felt like a celebration of two families coming together, and I got another amazing sister out of the deal. AND, no one asked me “When is it your turn?”, “Have you found Mr. Right?” or any other questions of that nature.

 

Well, in the time between the last blog and this blog…I hit the jackpot. Phillip and I began dating (he’s the one that actually encouraged me to do the first blog). We got engaged, and on April 20, 2012 we are gettin’ hitched.

 

So, I began thinking. I want my wedding to be a celebration of two families coming together also, but I want the chance to tell you about our families…in detail. So, here we be.

 

Over the next few months, we are going to share about our families…because they are crazy (this applies to the my side only), fantastic, and funny.

A Kiss

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A kiss, BMW

One day while walking down one of the busier streets in the city I was whining to God (of course, in the most respectful way that one can do that). Because I had been here for all of two months, and I hadn’t met my husband yet.

 

I mean, Gee Whiz, I says to myself. “I know that’s why You brought me here, because Juan (my ex-boyfriend) just dumped me and I know you brought me here to meet someone better. And that’ll fix Juan, God, we’ll show him won’t we? But, why are you taking SOOOO long. I mean, God, I haven’t met one single guy that loves You. Are you sure that you know what your are doing? I mean I know You know what you are doing, but could you speed it up a little?”

 

As I continued to walk down the street, I passed a beautiful two-door BMW. So, I quickly down shifted from whining to God to assessing the character of the owner of such a lavish vehicle. I mean, clearly he doesn’t manage his money well nor does he give to charity because he is a knot-head that drives a 70-thousand dollar car. The nerve.

 

And then I saw the bumper stickers. Two of them. The one on the left read: “Don’t be fooled by my car, my treasure is in heaven.” The one on the right read: “Real Men Love Jesus.”

 

I nearly passed out. God just reached down from high heaven to give me, Simone, a kiss when I needed it the most.