interestingly enough it is friday morning and the boybarians are NOT face first in the t.v....
it's "fry my brains on t.v." day, as the duke puts it, and they are playing with blocks...
eerie...
so it turns out the parade the duke was to be in didn't pan out...he was fine with it and i was more than fine with it as i would have had to ride along with him!...no thanks!...
with school starting next week i have been getting my curriculum together, fine tuning things here and there, figuring out what i really need to get, and what can get tossed or put on the back burner...in an attempt to really see where the duke is academically i have given him a few assessment tests...and frankly, the kid scares me...i am really happy to be homeschooling him, but i think he will be smarter than me in about two months, in which case i might just have to donate him to nasa much sooner than i had thought...hopefully for them that will be after he stops wetting the bed...
wingman just busted out with the abc song yesterday morning!...he certainly has heard it before, but never seemed interested in learning it with me...but yesterday morning he sang it and did an excellent job...and he can nearly count all the way to twenty(that pesky 14 always trips him up)...
the lord of the ring and the duke finished the third harry potter book last week (as far as they are going to go in the series for now) so that paved the way for the duke to see the movies...we put wingman to bed, and the duke and the lord of the ring and i settled in with lemonade and popcorn to watch harry potter and the sorcerer's stone...he loved it!....you should have seen his little face!...then we watched harry potter and the chamber of secrets the other evening...in the opening scene where harry meets dobby the house-elf, and dobby starts talking to harry the duke started giggling...
"what's so funny?", i whispered
"dobby doesn't use any pronouns", giggle giggle giggle
indeed...
we are no longer sleeping downstairs as our cat pee mattress has officially been declared habitable...and, the cat is no longer peeing on our bed as the door is permanently closed...and at night she is put in her own enclosed area in the back, so we can open the door and sleep without fear of being peed on or annoyed to death by her...the theory also is that we need to be able to keep the door open to hear the boybarians in the night, but the practice has been that i can usually be found in wingman's bed...which means the lord of the ring basically has his own room...i hope he doesn't redecorate while i'm gone...
oh, and she really only throws up in her dish anymore...which is gross, but contained...and she no longer brings me dinner...well, at least not into the house...last week i found a decapitated slug on the bottom step of the porch, and the other day i found a non-living rodent by the chair i sit in out in the yard...just in case...
haven't checked lately, but i am fairly certain steve is still too small for me...
have checked lately, and it turns out there is a slight bit of give in my stretchy pants...it could be my imagination, but i doubt it...i have actually been working out in my workout pants (workouts that include a horrible horrible horrible little activity straight from the first circle of hell called "reverse push-ups") and i think that's the answer...
i got my one perfect tamale this past monday when the lord of the ring surprised me with a plate of them...all for you, he said...but there were four on the plate, just enough to share...it's a good thing we never had that third child...
oh, and the goddess mother has returned safe and sound from her lovely trip with the mathematician to switzerland...and i am happy to report that in her continuing pregnant state she can no longer see her feet!...
things still remain as crazy and lively as ever around here...i am in constant battle to keep insanity at bay and wingman still asks for a popsicle every chance he gets...and we just got a fresh shipment of four boxes of bertie bott's every flavor beans!...care of the boybarian's other goddess mother, auntie en (yes, we've got 'em stashed everywhere)...that should keep us all busy as there are several more flavors to um, explore...
plus, the duke also received a spankin' new target card from auntie en as a belated birthday gift...so y'all are safe from his badgering to add money to his existing target card...for now...but the warning of not accepting generous gifts of handfuls of oddly colored jelly beans from him still stands...and will for quite some time...
and i am most happy to report that the duke has not once this summer brought up the desire to own a mesh tank-top...however, he has not lost his oddly inexplicable desire to go to florida, AND just informed me what he plans to be for halloween....
and unfortunately for his pattern challenged mother, it's not a ghost...
x.
Friday, July 30, 2004
Thursday, July 29, 2004
growing pains...
"growing hurts"
a friend said this to me the other day...that growing and reaching and stretching into and as an adult hurts...
i agree...i have done my fair share of growing in my limited years here on earth...most of it sucked...sure i'm reaping the benefits of it now, but it sucked then...
i have friends in pain...and i don't have a clue what to do...what do you do?...
when all you want is to put your arms around someone and gather them as close as you possibly can to your heart and tell them it will be okay...really, it will...
when you know that it won't, well at least not now, and not for a long long time...and people in pain don't want advice or encouragement...they want someone to agree with them and wallow along with them...advice and encouragement as well meaning as it is can be selfish, pompous, and it can be dismissive...
i have been in deep pain and i know that for the most part i like to be left alone...that my grief will not truly play out with others as audience...that i must go it alone, until i can go no further...
others do need to have somewhat of a circle around them...any number of people to rail and cry and shout why?!? to...people who will hopefully not offer, just listen...
when watching friends suffer, i do my best not to suffer along...to not cry when they do...(although i have found i am not so good at not getting angry on their behalf)...i want to be compassionate but i believe i am best suited to just be *strong*...whatever that is...but later, in the night or the tub or doing the dishes the tears will come...tears of pain and exasperation and anger...tears for my friends, tears for myself...because the loss my friends suffer is too a loss i suffer in my own right...
but however vulnerable i am to the pain of my friends, i must remember that it is not my pain...
like raising kids...i have learned to be a bit less fearful of their growing up...letting wingman climb just one rung higher without my hand to block him...letting the duke make a great deal of his own choices while really really trying to bite my tongue...
i want to be there every moment, or i used to...now i can see the fallacy of that, and how it will impede growth...wingman must see how high he can climb on his own, and the duke has to recognize what it means to make choices, and how to deal with the rewards or consequences of such...
and as i do this with my children, so i must with my friends...because while i'd like to shake someone and say open your eyes! or there is always another choice! or please just hear me out! or it won't always be this way!, it's not my place...i cannot spot them during their growing and i cannot shield them from their pain...
the *wisdom* (and i use that term loosely) of my experience and well meaning advice means nothing, and more importantly it is not my place...even as i am in the midst of being guilty of doing it, it is not my place...
so what do you do?...
you keep answering the phone...you pray that clarity will come to them...you hope that the pain they are suffering will bring lessons and lessons will bring growth and growth will ease the pain and shepherd your friends into an existence that is one of growing and not one exclusively of pain...you wish for them that the cycle will carry them along and you wish for yourself that you can be patient with their choices...because they are not your choices to make...
i lost a friend to death earlier this year...and among the many lessons i came away with in that grieving is that my friends are more important and far more dear to me than i could have ever have known...
and like my own kids, when they grieve i grieve too...i just hope that by remaining where i am, and continuing to have faith the passage of time that i will see them happy again...and if not happy, at the very least no longer in pain, yet having had experienced growth from the lessons that accompanied the pain...and that what i have learned from my experiences and growth is really just best applied to my own self...
that i must remember to tell myself, that this too, shall pass...even if i can't say it to them...
x.
a friend said this to me the other day...that growing and reaching and stretching into and as an adult hurts...
i agree...i have done my fair share of growing in my limited years here on earth...most of it sucked...sure i'm reaping the benefits of it now, but it sucked then...
i have friends in pain...and i don't have a clue what to do...what do you do?...
when all you want is to put your arms around someone and gather them as close as you possibly can to your heart and tell them it will be okay...really, it will...
when you know that it won't, well at least not now, and not for a long long time...and people in pain don't want advice or encouragement...they want someone to agree with them and wallow along with them...advice and encouragement as well meaning as it is can be selfish, pompous, and it can be dismissive...
i have been in deep pain and i know that for the most part i like to be left alone...that my grief will not truly play out with others as audience...that i must go it alone, until i can go no further...
others do need to have somewhat of a circle around them...any number of people to rail and cry and shout why?!? to...people who will hopefully not offer, just listen...
when watching friends suffer, i do my best not to suffer along...to not cry when they do...(although i have found i am not so good at not getting angry on their behalf)...i want to be compassionate but i believe i am best suited to just be *strong*...whatever that is...but later, in the night or the tub or doing the dishes the tears will come...tears of pain and exasperation and anger...tears for my friends, tears for myself...because the loss my friends suffer is too a loss i suffer in my own right...
but however vulnerable i am to the pain of my friends, i must remember that it is not my pain...
like raising kids...i have learned to be a bit less fearful of their growing up...letting wingman climb just one rung higher without my hand to block him...letting the duke make a great deal of his own choices while really really trying to bite my tongue...
i want to be there every moment, or i used to...now i can see the fallacy of that, and how it will impede growth...wingman must see how high he can climb on his own, and the duke has to recognize what it means to make choices, and how to deal with the rewards or consequences of such...
and as i do this with my children, so i must with my friends...because while i'd like to shake someone and say open your eyes! or there is always another choice! or please just hear me out! or it won't always be this way!, it's not my place...i cannot spot them during their growing and i cannot shield them from their pain...
the *wisdom* (and i use that term loosely) of my experience and well meaning advice means nothing, and more importantly it is not my place...even as i am in the midst of being guilty of doing it, it is not my place...
so what do you do?...
you keep answering the phone...you pray that clarity will come to them...you hope that the pain they are suffering will bring lessons and lessons will bring growth and growth will ease the pain and shepherd your friends into an existence that is one of growing and not one exclusively of pain...you wish for them that the cycle will carry them along and you wish for yourself that you can be patient with their choices...because they are not your choices to make...
i lost a friend to death earlier this year...and among the many lessons i came away with in that grieving is that my friends are more important and far more dear to me than i could have ever have known...
and like my own kids, when they grieve i grieve too...i just hope that by remaining where i am, and continuing to have faith the passage of time that i will see them happy again...and if not happy, at the very least no longer in pain, yet having had experienced growth from the lessons that accompanied the pain...and that what i have learned from my experiences and growth is really just best applied to my own self...
that i must remember to tell myself, that this too, shall pass...even if i can't say it to them...
x.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
back to school...
so school starts for us on monday...
i'm fairly prepared in that for august we will just be doing some basic review to begin and some *fun* projects to ease us back into our routine...generally, we do school monday through thursday and take fridays off...and, for the most part, we are done by lunch with the rest of the day to ourselves...it's a good schedule and it works for us...
last year started off kinda rocky, but ended very nicely...i just really must remember that if something isn't working, it needs to get tossed or tweaked right away...and if we need a break, we take a break, again right away...
the really great thing about homeschooling is the duke...he really loves to learn, and we study some pretty interesting things...for instance this year we are both looking forward to studying the middle ages and latin!...
although, the duke did inform me the other day that he did not need to learn latin as he already knows pig latin...i told him that was great, if he wanted to converse with pigs...
"yeah, and i bet you can't perform any spells in pig latin"
priorities, you know...
we are also doing earth science and space, and of course grammar, reading, spelling, math...the usual...
this year we will have a formal math program which will be new to us...last year we played a lot of math games...we also played *store* a lot, did a lot of baking, learned to tell time, measurement, calendar, etc...
but i am running out of ideas, and the duke is proving to be quite proficient in math, so i think a formal curriculum will be best...besides, i'm SO NOT proficient in math!...i'm hoping to learn a few things along with him...it's actually quite embarrassing how little math i do know...
besides trying to understand grade school math, another one of my goals is to do more with teaching him some basic cooking...we did a fair amount of baking last year, but only touched on actual cooking...both boys really seem to enjoy the process, so i'd like to fold some cooking projects in on a more consistent basis...
wingman will have some activities too...last year we started on writing his name, and studying the letters of the alphabet...and did a lot of work with counting...he won't be attending preschool until he potty trains, so it could be awhile...so we will do some preschool activities here...he's really into music and singing, i'd like to do some unit studies with that...
the duke will have soccer soon and continue with chess club...and hopefully start piano at some point...i'm a little out of ideas for wingman in terms of outside activities, but we may try gymnastics...
we'll round out our studies with music, probably we'll do jazz...or opera...depends on what the duke leans towards...we studied classical composers last year and that was very interesting...the duke discovered a deep love of vivaldi...and we'll do some kind of art, probably artist/picture study or perhaps an organized craft class...the duke seems to like pottery (he took a class last year) so perhaps i can find him a class or group to work with...
but the deal is, even thought we are at home, we are still busy...and i don't want to pack his schedule...with soccer coming up and chess added to that, that seems good for now...all the things he and i both want to do in terms of extra classes can fit in here and there...but mainly, i want to keep it simple...
because regardless of his capabilities and interests, he's still a kid, and needs that kid down time...who needs a packed schedule at 7 years old?...or for that matter, 33?
the next few weeks will be busy, but exciting...there's always a sense of renewal around this time of year...like going back to school is the real start of a new year, and january 1st is just an extention of holiday celebration...there's just a palpable sense of *possibility* this time of year...like anything can happen!...
and it's funny how even now, after all these years, *back to school* is still an exciting time for me!...and the duke gets that sense of it too...because even though we are still at home, it's something he is excited about and really looking forward to...
now, if i could just fulfill his desire to ride a school bus...what is it with the damn school bus!...i know a few other older homeschooled kids and that's one of the big thing they *missed* out on...riding the school bus...sigh...it could be that despite my best effort and all the rich and interesting learning he does he'll still end up on the therapist's couch moaning about not getting to ride a school bus...
reat-gay...
x.
i'm fairly prepared in that for august we will just be doing some basic review to begin and some *fun* projects to ease us back into our routine...generally, we do school monday through thursday and take fridays off...and, for the most part, we are done by lunch with the rest of the day to ourselves...it's a good schedule and it works for us...
last year started off kinda rocky, but ended very nicely...i just really must remember that if something isn't working, it needs to get tossed or tweaked right away...and if we need a break, we take a break, again right away...
the really great thing about homeschooling is the duke...he really loves to learn, and we study some pretty interesting things...for instance this year we are both looking forward to studying the middle ages and latin!...
although, the duke did inform me the other day that he did not need to learn latin as he already knows pig latin...i told him that was great, if he wanted to converse with pigs...
"yeah, and i bet you can't perform any spells in pig latin"
priorities, you know...
we are also doing earth science and space, and of course grammar, reading, spelling, math...the usual...
this year we will have a formal math program which will be new to us...last year we played a lot of math games...we also played *store* a lot, did a lot of baking, learned to tell time, measurement, calendar, etc...
but i am running out of ideas, and the duke is proving to be quite proficient in math, so i think a formal curriculum will be best...besides, i'm SO NOT proficient in math!...i'm hoping to learn a few things along with him...it's actually quite embarrassing how little math i do know...
besides trying to understand grade school math, another one of my goals is to do more with teaching him some basic cooking...we did a fair amount of baking last year, but only touched on actual cooking...both boys really seem to enjoy the process, so i'd like to fold some cooking projects in on a more consistent basis...
wingman will have some activities too...last year we started on writing his name, and studying the letters of the alphabet...and did a lot of work with counting...he won't be attending preschool until he potty trains, so it could be awhile...so we will do some preschool activities here...he's really into music and singing, i'd like to do some unit studies with that...
the duke will have soccer soon and continue with chess club...and hopefully start piano at some point...i'm a little out of ideas for wingman in terms of outside activities, but we may try gymnastics...
we'll round out our studies with music, probably we'll do jazz...or opera...depends on what the duke leans towards...we studied classical composers last year and that was very interesting...the duke discovered a deep love of vivaldi...and we'll do some kind of art, probably artist/picture study or perhaps an organized craft class...the duke seems to like pottery (he took a class last year) so perhaps i can find him a class or group to work with...
but the deal is, even thought we are at home, we are still busy...and i don't want to pack his schedule...with soccer coming up and chess added to that, that seems good for now...all the things he and i both want to do in terms of extra classes can fit in here and there...but mainly, i want to keep it simple...
because regardless of his capabilities and interests, he's still a kid, and needs that kid down time...who needs a packed schedule at 7 years old?...or for that matter, 33?
the next few weeks will be busy, but exciting...there's always a sense of renewal around this time of year...like going back to school is the real start of a new year, and january 1st is just an extention of holiday celebration...there's just a palpable sense of *possibility* this time of year...like anything can happen!...
and it's funny how even now, after all these years, *back to school* is still an exciting time for me!...and the duke gets that sense of it too...because even though we are still at home, it's something he is excited about and really looking forward to...
now, if i could just fulfill his desire to ride a school bus...what is it with the damn school bus!...i know a few other older homeschooled kids and that's one of the big thing they *missed* out on...riding the school bus...sigh...it could be that despite my best effort and all the rich and interesting learning he does he'll still end up on the therapist's couch moaning about not getting to ride a school bus...
reat-gay...
x.
Monday, July 26, 2004
camping...
camping was obviously invented by the same person who came up with menstrual cramps, warm beer, and emeril lagasse...
what happened?...i thought camping was fun?...i mean, i have had fun camping...i know i have...but after this trip i cannot imagine ever going again...at least not with my immediate family...
the boybarians were more boybarianish than usual, and much much louder than normal...
the first day started out nicely until we were at the lake...wherein some old guy asked me
"is she your daughter (pointing to wingman) or are you her grandma"
um, WHAT!!!..."grandma"!?!?...
"um, he is my son, and i am his mother"
"oh the long hair...hell, i've got long hair i oughta know better"
no shit sherlock...you figured that out now could you enlighten me as to why in the sam hell you thought i might be somebody's grandma?!?...
so on the way back to the camp i fumed about it then unfortunately i figured out that in all reality, in some backwoods world, i could indeed at 33 be wingman's grandma...
if i had a baby at 15, and that baby had a baby at 15, then at my present age of 33 i could be the grandma to a three year old...
cheery...
the weekend went downhill from there...i won't go into boring and extreme detail, but i will give you some highlights...
three a.m...the lord of the ring, wingman, and i are all sleeping in one tent, the duke is sleeping smack dab next to us in a two-man backpacking tent...we are all asleep...then i hear
"papa"
i wait, pretending to be asleep and wondering if the lord of the ring will wake up...
"papa"
okay, so he probably has to pee or wants to sleep with us...neither of which i want to deal with, but will have to...
"papa's asleep, what do you need?"
"my butt is itchy"
hmm...didn't even consider that RANDOM AND TOTALLY ANNOYING POSSIBILTY!!!...
"mama, my butt is itchy and it's bothering me!"
so it's three a.m. and i am in the middle of the woods in a tent and now i have to deal with an itchy butt...great...so i ask the lord of the ring, who is now awake, where the wipes are since he was the last person to use them...he doesn't know...they aren't in the tent...
so now i have to get the flashlight and traipse around in the dark (i am afraid of the dark, by the way) looking for a little bag of wipes so i can aide in taking care of my son's itchy butt...i am not happy...i am muttering four letter words and doing a lot of stumbling...and i cannot for the life of me find those goddamned wipes!...then i hear
"nevermind, i'm over it"
to which i say
"no you are not!...you are not over it!...when i find the wipes and help you out, then you are over it!"
the wipes are located with a LOT of grumbling...and where were these wipes you may ask?...funnily enought, they were in the tent i just came from...
the situation is taken care of and we go back to sleep...until we hear crunching...not pine needles falling, not twigs snapping, not the wind...crunching...
a family of raccoons is enjoying a large bag of tortilla chips at our expense...which prompts a tired and half naked lord of the ring to go out into the night and scare them away...by making some weird noise and throwing rocks...like a scene right out of a movie...the chips are rescued and the lord of the ring returns...
by now, the duke is in our tent, and i am somewhere in between two sleeping pads and two really fluffy pillows and two really sweaty boys who i know for a fact brushed their teeth before bed, but of which no evidence of that can be detected at four in the morning...
the next morning i am attempting to prepare coffee...if you have ever made coffee while camping that is not instant, then you know what a process it is...so i am fiddling with my makeshift coffee maker, while the lord of the ring is doing some fiddling of his own trying to get breakfast together...then we hear
"i have to poop!"
very loudly, and from the direction that suggests that the duke is smack dab between our two neighboring sites, who are also up and preparing breakfast...
we exchange that look that only parents can exchange...the one that does not say "well, we're in this together let's deal with it" but rather a look that says "why i found you atractive ten years ago which eventually led us here, i do not know...because now look what i have to deal with"...
"um, i said i have to poop!...c'mon!"
where's that number for the military school?...does my cell phone work up here?...
he gets taken care of and the day and trip go on...we were definitely like the loud family you see in target...the boys were too hemmed in by the proximity of the other sites and campers, making them louder by ten-fold...and we were too worn out and exasperated to care if we are saying trite and eye-rolling parental phrases in less than quiet voices...
it was not one of our more norman rockwellish outings...
i guess our mistake was in thinking we could enjoy ourselves and relax, which we are both in desperate need of...oh, and not bringing enough beer...
preparing for and executing a camping trip is a hell of a lot of work...even if you do have fun...but when you do all that work, and fun isn't being had, then it really sucks...and that was the case...the boybarians are just at that age (which i am rapidly coming to understand is not just a "phase"...but rather a series of "phases" that will continue to bombard us until they leave the house)...right now their whole purpose in life right now is to see how much they can bother the other one...and us...
and then you add in the man who thought i was somebody's grandma, another man who threw his lit cigarette into the lake of swimming children, hungry raccoons, itchy butts, and the dog pooping on the beach in front of everyone picnicking and swimming then one can surmise that we really had no chance in hell of smooth sailing...
even the drive home had it's irritations...we stopped to see the worlds largest spruce tree AND a big cedar tree...not THE WORLD'S LARGEST cedar tree, the sign just said "big cedar tree"...and still, we stopped...one time we had to stop, park, and HIKE in, the other we had to turn off the road and AWAY from our destination of home, stop, park, and hike in...each time i had this to say
"if these were really big trees we should be able to see them from the road"
oh, and lunch on the way home?...i think we picked the all time dirtiest restaurant in the history of restaurants...i mean filthy...stuff was piled all over, the cook was grumpy, the woman running the place was old and overwhelmed and some little girl who belonged to them was just wandering around bugging the diners...it was like being in somebody's really really dirty house, only you had to pay them for the meal they were about to serve you...we were desperate, in the middle of nowhere, and so there we were...i said
"i'm just glad we aren't here right after my food poisoning" (from the spaghetti that tried to kill me a few weeks earlier)
to which the lord of the ring said
"this place makes me want to go home and clean my house and fix my car"
indeed...
so that was the trip and now it's over...all i can say is thank god for t.v. and the computer...as soon as we got home we plugged one whiny, hot, irritated boybarian into one and one into the other....
and found the first bit of peace we had had all weekend...
it's funny, raising kids is always a crapshoot...because the last time we went camping we had so much fun we went again the next weekend...but for some reason, this time was awful and so full of work...camping may just not be our thing right now...BUT, because we are either brave or stupid we are going camping again in the fall...just to see if that time it will work...yeah, i'll let you know how that theory pans out...
in the meantime, if you need me i'll be right here...because the only place i am going for awhile is insane...but that's the same old trip i've always been on...the beauty is, on this trip there is a mr. coffee and nobody mistakes me for a grandma...
x.
what happened?...i thought camping was fun?...i mean, i have had fun camping...i know i have...but after this trip i cannot imagine ever going again...at least not with my immediate family...
the boybarians were more boybarianish than usual, and much much louder than normal...
the first day started out nicely until we were at the lake...wherein some old guy asked me
"is she your daughter (pointing to wingman) or are you her grandma"
um, WHAT!!!..."grandma"!?!?...
"um, he is my son, and i am his mother"
"oh the long hair...hell, i've got long hair i oughta know better"
no shit sherlock...you figured that out now could you enlighten me as to why in the sam hell you thought i might be somebody's grandma?!?...
so on the way back to the camp i fumed about it then unfortunately i figured out that in all reality, in some backwoods world, i could indeed at 33 be wingman's grandma...
if i had a baby at 15, and that baby had a baby at 15, then at my present age of 33 i could be the grandma to a three year old...
cheery...
the weekend went downhill from there...i won't go into boring and extreme detail, but i will give you some highlights...
three a.m...the lord of the ring, wingman, and i are all sleeping in one tent, the duke is sleeping smack dab next to us in a two-man backpacking tent...we are all asleep...then i hear
"papa"
i wait, pretending to be asleep and wondering if the lord of the ring will wake up...
"papa"
okay, so he probably has to pee or wants to sleep with us...neither of which i want to deal with, but will have to...
"papa's asleep, what do you need?"
"my butt is itchy"
hmm...didn't even consider that RANDOM AND TOTALLY ANNOYING POSSIBILTY!!!...
"mama, my butt is itchy and it's bothering me!"
so it's three a.m. and i am in the middle of the woods in a tent and now i have to deal with an itchy butt...great...so i ask the lord of the ring, who is now awake, where the wipes are since he was the last person to use them...he doesn't know...they aren't in the tent...
so now i have to get the flashlight and traipse around in the dark (i am afraid of the dark, by the way) looking for a little bag of wipes so i can aide in taking care of my son's itchy butt...i am not happy...i am muttering four letter words and doing a lot of stumbling...and i cannot for the life of me find those goddamned wipes!...then i hear
"nevermind, i'm over it"
to which i say
"no you are not!...you are not over it!...when i find the wipes and help you out, then you are over it!"
the wipes are located with a LOT of grumbling...and where were these wipes you may ask?...funnily enought, they were in the tent i just came from...
the situation is taken care of and we go back to sleep...until we hear crunching...not pine needles falling, not twigs snapping, not the wind...crunching...
a family of raccoons is enjoying a large bag of tortilla chips at our expense...which prompts a tired and half naked lord of the ring to go out into the night and scare them away...by making some weird noise and throwing rocks...like a scene right out of a movie...the chips are rescued and the lord of the ring returns...
by now, the duke is in our tent, and i am somewhere in between two sleeping pads and two really fluffy pillows and two really sweaty boys who i know for a fact brushed their teeth before bed, but of which no evidence of that can be detected at four in the morning...
the next morning i am attempting to prepare coffee...if you have ever made coffee while camping that is not instant, then you know what a process it is...so i am fiddling with my makeshift coffee maker, while the lord of the ring is doing some fiddling of his own trying to get breakfast together...then we hear
"i have to poop!"
very loudly, and from the direction that suggests that the duke is smack dab between our two neighboring sites, who are also up and preparing breakfast...
we exchange that look that only parents can exchange...the one that does not say "well, we're in this together let's deal with it" but rather a look that says "why i found you atractive ten years ago which eventually led us here, i do not know...because now look what i have to deal with"...
"um, i said i have to poop!...c'mon!"
where's that number for the military school?...does my cell phone work up here?...
he gets taken care of and the day and trip go on...we were definitely like the loud family you see in target...the boys were too hemmed in by the proximity of the other sites and campers, making them louder by ten-fold...and we were too worn out and exasperated to care if we are saying trite and eye-rolling parental phrases in less than quiet voices...
it was not one of our more norman rockwellish outings...
i guess our mistake was in thinking we could enjoy ourselves and relax, which we are both in desperate need of...oh, and not bringing enough beer...
preparing for and executing a camping trip is a hell of a lot of work...even if you do have fun...but when you do all that work, and fun isn't being had, then it really sucks...and that was the case...the boybarians are just at that age (which i am rapidly coming to understand is not just a "phase"...but rather a series of "phases" that will continue to bombard us until they leave the house)...right now their whole purpose in life right now is to see how much they can bother the other one...and us...
and then you add in the man who thought i was somebody's grandma, another man who threw his lit cigarette into the lake of swimming children, hungry raccoons, itchy butts, and the dog pooping on the beach in front of everyone picnicking and swimming then one can surmise that we really had no chance in hell of smooth sailing...
even the drive home had it's irritations...we stopped to see the worlds largest spruce tree AND a big cedar tree...not THE WORLD'S LARGEST cedar tree, the sign just said "big cedar tree"...and still, we stopped...one time we had to stop, park, and HIKE in, the other we had to turn off the road and AWAY from our destination of home, stop, park, and hike in...each time i had this to say
"if these were really big trees we should be able to see them from the road"
oh, and lunch on the way home?...i think we picked the all time dirtiest restaurant in the history of restaurants...i mean filthy...stuff was piled all over, the cook was grumpy, the woman running the place was old and overwhelmed and some little girl who belonged to them was just wandering around bugging the diners...it was like being in somebody's really really dirty house, only you had to pay them for the meal they were about to serve you...we were desperate, in the middle of nowhere, and so there we were...i said
"i'm just glad we aren't here right after my food poisoning" (from the spaghetti that tried to kill me a few weeks earlier)
to which the lord of the ring said
"this place makes me want to go home and clean my house and fix my car"
indeed...
so that was the trip and now it's over...all i can say is thank god for t.v. and the computer...as soon as we got home we plugged one whiny, hot, irritated boybarian into one and one into the other....
and found the first bit of peace we had had all weekend...
it's funny, raising kids is always a crapshoot...because the last time we went camping we had so much fun we went again the next weekend...but for some reason, this time was awful and so full of work...camping may just not be our thing right now...BUT, because we are either brave or stupid we are going camping again in the fall...just to see if that time it will work...yeah, i'll let you know how that theory pans out...
in the meantime, if you need me i'll be right here...because the only place i am going for awhile is insane...but that's the same old trip i've always been on...the beauty is, on this trip there is a mr. coffee and nobody mistakes me for a grandma...
x.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
here today, gone tamale...
the sillymortalfamily will be departing in the morning for a long weekend of camping in the rainforest...
may all of you have a grand weekend, and i'll see you on monday...
x.
oh, and just in case you couldn't sleep at night for the wondering, i did finally get some fries!...yesterday afternoon...and they were hot and salty and absolutely terrific...like little greasy sticks of heaven...it really is the small things, isn't it?...except wouldn't you know it?...i had a dream last night and now all i want is one perfect tamale...sigh...
may all of you have a grand weekend, and i'll see you on monday...
x.
oh, and just in case you couldn't sleep at night for the wondering, i did finally get some fries!...yesterday afternoon...and they were hot and salty and absolutely terrific...like little greasy sticks of heaven...it really is the small things, isn't it?...except wouldn't you know it?...i had a dream last night and now all i want is one perfect tamale...sigh...
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
still no fries...
my birthday reminded me exactly how old i have become...
and how very very little i miss *going out*...
the getting home at 3 am part was brutal...but i'd have to say the drinking coffee at 10:30 pm in a bar full of drunken bright eyed youth was absolutely humbling...
coffee!?!...at a show?...in a bar?...are you kidding me?!?...what's next?...the early dinners because it's time to take my pill?...
man, and i remember that bar...i have on several occasions closed down that bar...10:30 pm was the beginning of most evenings!...
anyway, let's start at the beginning of last evening...
i met the lord of the ring in the city and we went to a lovely little restaurant and had a wonderful little meal...
then we proceeded to a divey bar in search of some hot and salty fries and had a pitcher of really cheap beer...no luck on the fries, but we basked in the glory that is pabst blue ribbon and even ran into an old party friend from a decade ago...very interesting...
then we went to the bar where the show was and just hung out...thankfully they had fries, so we ordered some and in the meantime drank some jaggermeister shots and beer and people watched...very very interesting...
but by the time we got the long awaited fries, they had been sitting for a good half an hour...they were cold, slightly damp, and sadly limp...damn, i knew i shouldn't have trusted a man wearing a tight pink t-shirt to deliver the goods...
and that combined with the patrons in the bar really confirmed that my absence from the *scene* has yielded very little if any change...
as the evening turned to night and wore on we were incredibly tired and half wished we were anywhere but there...what happened to us?...we were like old folks...after awhile even my push-up bra wanted to call it a night...thank god it perservered...
then, steve arrived...
man is he short...i mean i knew he was short, but that dude was seriously small!...and, um, wearing an oversized blazer...
however, regardless of this new information, i did what any really truly red blooded silly mortal mama with a seven year crush, wearing a push up bra and operating on too little sleep and too much coffee and beer would do (or not), and i forwent the excited whispering and discreet pointing and i went up to him and introduced myself...
we shook hands, had a bit of a chat, all the while i'm thinking i am so much taller than him...my hands are bigger...this is really sad...
because long time fascination or no, i simply cannot have romantic (or otherwise) feelings about any man who is shorter than me, or has smaller hands...i can't...i'm far too shallow...
so i get back to the table and the lord of the ring says
"so the spell is broken, huh?"
"um, yeah...what gave it away?"
so we drank a little more and waited for the show...
then, steve comes right up to me and says
"you wanted an autograph or something, right?"
um, no, i thought, but steve's offering himself up so might as well take it!
so i say
"um, yeah...could you do my kid's next party?"
he did not look amused...
obviously my push up bra had indeed quit for the evening...
"just kidding...here sign this"
and i hand him a guinness beer coaster that just that afternoon had been given to the lord of the ring by a co-worker who had just returned from ireland...
good thing too because i was feeling just snarky enough to have him sign something else...just to see what he would do!...
so he signs it and that was that...i am now in possession of a coaster advertising beer signed by a very influential and important figure from my children's childhood...from a show they don't know we went to...
yeah, what exactly do i do with that?...
then the show started...in which there was steve and another guy, mostly live but some pre-recorded music, *amusing* slide show graphics, some sort of action figure being waved around, and of course the blazer...
sigh...
and to top it all off, the sound at that venue was really really bad...and i was too friggin' old and not nearly drunk enough to not care...
we left right before it ended and after walking a mile, waiting for the ferry for 45 minutes, riding the ferry for 35 minutes, driving 30 minutes to pick up our sleeping kids, then driving 30 more minutes home, we were done...and i still never got those hot and salty fries...
and so another birthday comes to a close...
it was good to get out...remind myself that i am not the sum of my parts...that the parts that make me up are just a *part* of who i am...there is always room to step outside of my comfort level and do what i normally *wouldn't do*...and that's good to know...it can possibly be a let down and be tiring, but good to know nonetheless...
because all i really want to know, despite the inevitable aging, is that i am moving forward...that the experiences i had so long ago have played their own important part in bringing me to who i am today...and because of that, i am presently capable of stepping outside of who i am and what i do on a *daily mom* basis...that i am capable of re-birth, however small, and even if it's just for a few fleeting hours...
so good-bye 32 and hello to the brand spankin' new year that is 33!...
they say jesus died when he was in his 33rd year...i'm not looking for anything so dramatic to seal my *place* in this world...at 33 i'm simply hoping for a bit of resurrection every once in awhile...
x.
and how very very little i miss *going out*...
the getting home at 3 am part was brutal...but i'd have to say the drinking coffee at 10:30 pm in a bar full of drunken bright eyed youth was absolutely humbling...
coffee!?!...at a show?...in a bar?...are you kidding me?!?...what's next?...the early dinners because it's time to take my pill?...
man, and i remember that bar...i have on several occasions closed down that bar...10:30 pm was the beginning of most evenings!...
anyway, let's start at the beginning of last evening...
i met the lord of the ring in the city and we went to a lovely little restaurant and had a wonderful little meal...
then we proceeded to a divey bar in search of some hot and salty fries and had a pitcher of really cheap beer...no luck on the fries, but we basked in the glory that is pabst blue ribbon and even ran into an old party friend from a decade ago...very interesting...
then we went to the bar where the show was and just hung out...thankfully they had fries, so we ordered some and in the meantime drank some jaggermeister shots and beer and people watched...very very interesting...
but by the time we got the long awaited fries, they had been sitting for a good half an hour...they were cold, slightly damp, and sadly limp...damn, i knew i shouldn't have trusted a man wearing a tight pink t-shirt to deliver the goods...
and that combined with the patrons in the bar really confirmed that my absence from the *scene* has yielded very little if any change...
as the evening turned to night and wore on we were incredibly tired and half wished we were anywhere but there...what happened to us?...we were like old folks...after awhile even my push-up bra wanted to call it a night...thank god it perservered...
then, steve arrived...
man is he short...i mean i knew he was short, but that dude was seriously small!...and, um, wearing an oversized blazer...
however, regardless of this new information, i did what any really truly red blooded silly mortal mama with a seven year crush, wearing a push up bra and operating on too little sleep and too much coffee and beer would do (or not), and i forwent the excited whispering and discreet pointing and i went up to him and introduced myself...
we shook hands, had a bit of a chat, all the while i'm thinking i am so much taller than him...my hands are bigger...this is really sad...
because long time fascination or no, i simply cannot have romantic (or otherwise) feelings about any man who is shorter than me, or has smaller hands...i can't...i'm far too shallow...
so i get back to the table and the lord of the ring says
"so the spell is broken, huh?"
"um, yeah...what gave it away?"
so we drank a little more and waited for the show...
then, steve comes right up to me and says
"you wanted an autograph or something, right?"
um, no, i thought, but steve's offering himself up so might as well take it!
so i say
"um, yeah...could you do my kid's next party?"
he did not look amused...
obviously my push up bra had indeed quit for the evening...
"just kidding...here sign this"
and i hand him a guinness beer coaster that just that afternoon had been given to the lord of the ring by a co-worker who had just returned from ireland...
good thing too because i was feeling just snarky enough to have him sign something else...just to see what he would do!...
so he signs it and that was that...i am now in possession of a coaster advertising beer signed by a very influential and important figure from my children's childhood...from a show they don't know we went to...
yeah, what exactly do i do with that?...
then the show started...in which there was steve and another guy, mostly live but some pre-recorded music, *amusing* slide show graphics, some sort of action figure being waved around, and of course the blazer...
sigh...
and to top it all off, the sound at that venue was really really bad...and i was too friggin' old and not nearly drunk enough to not care...
we left right before it ended and after walking a mile, waiting for the ferry for 45 minutes, riding the ferry for 35 minutes, driving 30 minutes to pick up our sleeping kids, then driving 30 more minutes home, we were done...and i still never got those hot and salty fries...
and so another birthday comes to a close...
it was good to get out...remind myself that i am not the sum of my parts...that the parts that make me up are just a *part* of who i am...there is always room to step outside of my comfort level and do what i normally *wouldn't do*...and that's good to know...it can possibly be a let down and be tiring, but good to know nonetheless...
because all i really want to know, despite the inevitable aging, is that i am moving forward...that the experiences i had so long ago have played their own important part in bringing me to who i am today...and because of that, i am presently capable of stepping outside of who i am and what i do on a *daily mom* basis...that i am capable of re-birth, however small, and even if it's just for a few fleeting hours...
so good-bye 32 and hello to the brand spankin' new year that is 33!...
they say jesus died when he was in his 33rd year...i'm not looking for anything so dramatic to seal my *place* in this world...at 33 i'm simply hoping for a bit of resurrection every once in awhile...
x.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
you say it's your birthday?
well, what a coinkidink!!!
yes, reluctant readers, 33 years ago today the sillymortalmama slithered her way into this world, eventually coming to this place in life wherein she has wormed her way into your hearts...
don't you hate it when people refer to themselves in the third person?...
but, i digress...
happy birthday to ME!
and what, you may ask, would someone as fabulous as myself be doing on such an occasion?...
well, i will be taking the ferry across the pond to the emerald city to meet my husband for dinner and drinks and a show...
sounds romantic, huh?...
it will be...once i stop at the store to load up on dinner and treats for the kids and friends who are watching them...then go to the video store to get a "bribe" video for wingman who will be despondent at best at my parting...then drive the lot over to a quaint seaside village wherein i will deposit boybarians and provisions and spend fifteen minutes doling out cell phone number, insurance info (worthless with our deductible, but it's there) and last minute kisses...then another fifteen minutes with wingman trying to get him involved in some activity other than my leaving, and when that finally fails to work i will leave most likely in a flurry of his tears...then drive to the ferry in another quaint seaside village, find a place to park and get on...all the while feeling slightly guilty...
but mostly not...because after all the work involved just to get on the ferry, i will be sweaty and hot and just slightly too irritated to feel guilty...
that's where the drinks portion of the evening comes in!...
then dinner downtown...
so, you may also be wondering what show we will be seeing...
steve burns...
and who is steve burns?...
well, some of you may remember a little show a few years ago (actually still on, but not as good) with a guy in a green striped shirt named steve and a computer animated dog named blue...
well, that steve went on to become an indie rocker of sorts, and he is on tour...and i have had a crush on him for years and told myself if he ever came near here i would try to see him...and then i saw he was playing in the emerald city on my birthday...
the rest is history...well, not really history as it hasn't really happened yet, but you get the idea...
oh, and we are not telling the kids as the duke was a huge fan of the old blue's clues with steve, and wingman is currently a huge fan of the old blue's clues with steve...he watches re-runs or occasionally we let him get an older video at the store...he's not so into the new guy...well, and neither is his mother!...
and i don't think they'd really comprehend why it is their parents are going to see steve, and they are staying home...it'd probably make them sad, then later on in life they'd probably get creeped out by it...
hell, if i thought about it long enough, i might get creeped out by it too!...
when i told the lord of the ring about it and i got all excited and started making plans i told him i was going to order two tickets...
"oh, you want me to go with you?"
"well, yeah!...who else would i take?"
"well, you've had a crush on him so long i just figured i'd give you two some time alone"
"okay, then...if i don't come home until morning and i'm in the green striped shirt, don't ask any questions"
and they say a good marriage is hard work...
so, i'll let you know how it goes...right now at this early hour i have two problems
1. i don't have anything to wear that doesn't make me look like a mother of two
2. i don't have any idea how in the sam hell i'm gonna stay up past nine
you know the really ironic (or not) part is, the "bribe" video wingman has been chomping at the bit for and is finally going to get today is an old blue's clues video with none other than STEVE himself!...
so happy birthday old girl!...the road may have not always risen to meet you, but you managed to find your way...despite the missteps and mistakes, the wrong turns and tears, you made it...and i am really proud of who you have become...it's funny, because there were times you knew it would be this good, it's just really fantastic that you finally get to see it...
x.
yes, reluctant readers, 33 years ago today the sillymortalmama slithered her way into this world, eventually coming to this place in life wherein she has wormed her way into your hearts...
don't you hate it when people refer to themselves in the third person?...
but, i digress...
happy birthday to ME!
and what, you may ask, would someone as fabulous as myself be doing on such an occasion?...
well, i will be taking the ferry across the pond to the emerald city to meet my husband for dinner and drinks and a show...
sounds romantic, huh?...
it will be...once i stop at the store to load up on dinner and treats for the kids and friends who are watching them...then go to the video store to get a "bribe" video for wingman who will be despondent at best at my parting...then drive the lot over to a quaint seaside village wherein i will deposit boybarians and provisions and spend fifteen minutes doling out cell phone number, insurance info (worthless with our deductible, but it's there) and last minute kisses...then another fifteen minutes with wingman trying to get him involved in some activity other than my leaving, and when that finally fails to work i will leave most likely in a flurry of his tears...then drive to the ferry in another quaint seaside village, find a place to park and get on...all the while feeling slightly guilty...
but mostly not...because after all the work involved just to get on the ferry, i will be sweaty and hot and just slightly too irritated to feel guilty...
that's where the drinks portion of the evening comes in!...
then dinner downtown...
so, you may also be wondering what show we will be seeing...
steve burns...
and who is steve burns?...
well, some of you may remember a little show a few years ago (actually still on, but not as good) with a guy in a green striped shirt named steve and a computer animated dog named blue...
well, that steve went on to become an indie rocker of sorts, and he is on tour...and i have had a crush on him for years and told myself if he ever came near here i would try to see him...and then i saw he was playing in the emerald city on my birthday...
the rest is history...well, not really history as it hasn't really happened yet, but you get the idea...
oh, and we are not telling the kids as the duke was a huge fan of the old blue's clues with steve, and wingman is currently a huge fan of the old blue's clues with steve...he watches re-runs or occasionally we let him get an older video at the store...he's not so into the new guy...well, and neither is his mother!...
and i don't think they'd really comprehend why it is their parents are going to see steve, and they are staying home...it'd probably make them sad, then later on in life they'd probably get creeped out by it...
hell, if i thought about it long enough, i might get creeped out by it too!...
when i told the lord of the ring about it and i got all excited and started making plans i told him i was going to order two tickets...
"oh, you want me to go with you?"
"well, yeah!...who else would i take?"
"well, you've had a crush on him so long i just figured i'd give you two some time alone"
"okay, then...if i don't come home until morning and i'm in the green striped shirt, don't ask any questions"
and they say a good marriage is hard work...
so, i'll let you know how it goes...right now at this early hour i have two problems
1. i don't have anything to wear that doesn't make me look like a mother of two
2. i don't have any idea how in the sam hell i'm gonna stay up past nine
you know the really ironic (or not) part is, the "bribe" video wingman has been chomping at the bit for and is finally going to get today is an old blue's clues video with none other than STEVE himself!...
so happy birthday old girl!...the road may have not always risen to meet you, but you managed to find your way...despite the missteps and mistakes, the wrong turns and tears, you made it...and i am really proud of who you have become...it's funny, because there were times you knew it would be this good, it's just really fantastic that you finally get to see it...
x.
Monday, July 19, 2004
can i get fries with my grumpiness?
waking up on the wrong side of the wrong bed (the neck death bed also known as wingman's bed) on a monday with my birthday looming in the very near future, i have found i am more set in my ways than i had previously thought...or just grumpy...
top ten list of pet peeves by the ever aging and somewhat grumpy this morning sillymortalmama...
10. balloon bouquets for adults...now, i understand the sentiment...but unless you are under the age of sixteen, a balloon bouquet is just weird..."um thanks...they're great...and probably well worth risking your life driving over here with them in your car blocking every conceivable window and impeding your vision...thanks!"...
9. dirty butter dishes...i think a butter dish is pretty much good for one stick of butter...after that's gone, it's just plain wrong to introduce another stick on top of the remains of the first stick...like moving into an apartment right after four smoking bachelors who did not receive their cleaning deposit back have just moved out...it is for this reason i own two butter dishes...butter to be safe than sorry...
8. change...okay, so i can abide by change as a constant, and at times even revel in it...BUT, they have just changed the way i can produce this blog with options i don't understand and commands that do me no good and inhibit my natural writing flow...bastards...
7. when adults who are talking to other adults use the word "yummy" or "yum!" or the especially horrible "nummy"...when speaking it's not *so* bad i guess, but written?...*shudder*...especially when referring to another human being...but i do call my husband *papa* sometimes, so who the hell am i to talk?...sigh, it's tough work being such an accomplished hypocrite...
6. when someone takes a sip of beer, then looks at the bottle and makes a big smacky sigh and says "ahh, that's good stuff"...okay, yeah, it's beer...no need to get all googly eyed and dramatic...
5. when people take their dogs to a public place where there are a lot of children, let them off the leash to run towards and jump on and lick on the kids to their canine heart's content, then laugh and say "oh, he just wants to play", and doesn't call the dog back or otherwise contain the dog in any way while your child stands there terrified, screaming, and frozen to the spot while being "played" with by the dog...yeah, how bout i bring my baby over to your house, off diaper, and when he poops and pees all over i'll just laugh and say "how cute, look he likes you!"...
4. cat pee...(by the way, we are once again FINALLY sleeping in our own bed!...which as you can tell by the introduction is in theory only)
3. when america is already so freakin' unhealthy and overweight, you still get offered candy nearly every office you go into, and costco muffins, costco cookies, costco donuts, and sodas are office meeting staples?...what's worse are preschool snacks and public school lunches!...you know things are bad when mcdonald's introduces a *healthy* menu...
2. that bumper sticker that says "got depression?...cheer up!"...yeah, okay...maybe ignorance really is bliss...
1. how our culture does not support children being children...little boys clothes come mostly in camouflage and aggressive screen prints, and the boys themselves are pin point heavily marketed to by the violent video game makers and blockbuster movies based on childhood superheros but clearly with adult content...and little girls clothes come in either low rise or hi cut, or both, with words on the butt and "flirt" or "little miss attitude" on the chest...well, there just doesn't seem to be a shred of a chance of actually going through those, apparently to our culture, pesky little motions of growing up...
x.
top ten list of pet peeves by the ever aging and somewhat grumpy this morning sillymortalmama...
10. balloon bouquets for adults...now, i understand the sentiment...but unless you are under the age of sixteen, a balloon bouquet is just weird..."um thanks...they're great...and probably well worth risking your life driving over here with them in your car blocking every conceivable window and impeding your vision...thanks!"...
9. dirty butter dishes...i think a butter dish is pretty much good for one stick of butter...after that's gone, it's just plain wrong to introduce another stick on top of the remains of the first stick...like moving into an apartment right after four smoking bachelors who did not receive their cleaning deposit back have just moved out...it is for this reason i own two butter dishes...butter to be safe than sorry...
8. change...okay, so i can abide by change as a constant, and at times even revel in it...BUT, they have just changed the way i can produce this blog with options i don't understand and commands that do me no good and inhibit my natural writing flow...bastards...
7. when adults who are talking to other adults use the word "yummy" or "yum!" or the especially horrible "nummy"...when speaking it's not *so* bad i guess, but written?...*shudder*...especially when referring to another human being...but i do call my husband *papa* sometimes, so who the hell am i to talk?...sigh, it's tough work being such an accomplished hypocrite...
6. when someone takes a sip of beer, then looks at the bottle and makes a big smacky sigh and says "ahh, that's good stuff"...okay, yeah, it's beer...no need to get all googly eyed and dramatic...
5. when people take their dogs to a public place where there are a lot of children, let them off the leash to run towards and jump on and lick on the kids to their canine heart's content, then laugh and say "oh, he just wants to play", and doesn't call the dog back or otherwise contain the dog in any way while your child stands there terrified, screaming, and frozen to the spot while being "played" with by the dog...yeah, how bout i bring my baby over to your house, off diaper, and when he poops and pees all over i'll just laugh and say "how cute, look he likes you!"...
4. cat pee...(by the way, we are once again FINALLY sleeping in our own bed!...which as you can tell by the introduction is in theory only)
3. when america is already so freakin' unhealthy and overweight, you still get offered candy nearly every office you go into, and costco muffins, costco cookies, costco donuts, and sodas are office meeting staples?...what's worse are preschool snacks and public school lunches!...you know things are bad when mcdonald's introduces a *healthy* menu...
2. that bumper sticker that says "got depression?...cheer up!"...yeah, okay...maybe ignorance really is bliss...
1. how our culture does not support children being children...little boys clothes come mostly in camouflage and aggressive screen prints, and the boys themselves are pin point heavily marketed to by the violent video game makers and blockbuster movies based on childhood superheros but clearly with adult content...and little girls clothes come in either low rise or hi cut, or both, with words on the butt and "flirt" or "little miss attitude" on the chest...well, there just doesn't seem to be a shred of a chance of actually going through those, apparently to our culture, pesky little motions of growing up...
x.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
books coming to life; priceless...
and i don't mean in movie form...
the duke and the lord of the ring have been reading harry potter lately...they are nearly done with book three...
he hasn't seen the movies as we wanted him to get into the books and his imagination before the movies (which are excellent and he will LOVE them, i'm sure) did it for him...
so, he's really gotten into them...knowing they are fiction, but thinking perhaps some part of them could be real...which works in my favor in that we are studying latin this next school year and he thinks that is way cool...so he can learn spells...
god help us all...
anyway, it's been a really positive and exciting experience for him...
that just got better...
some days ago we were at an ice cream store with an adjoining candy shop...and what does he spy but a long box filled with "bertie bott's every flavor beans"...now, if you haven't read the books or seen the movies, these are basically jelly beans, but with a twist...a la willy wonka and the chocolate factory these beans can taste like anything...chocolate, grape jelly, earwax, tripe, etc...and the best part is you never know what you're gonna get...
well, while reading the book the duke was enthralled with the idea of these beans, so you can imagine his surprise in seeing them in person...and it wasn't the small box you might see at the supermarket check out, this was a box worthy of wanting...
he went on and on and on about it...
"but they have earwax, and vomit, and earthworm!...ten flavors in all!"
we didn't get the box because we had had ice cream, and weren't getting candy on top of that...
he was pretty disappointed...
until last night...because when he got upstairs to read, there on his pillow right next to the book was a box of bertie bott's every flavor beans...
man, you should have seen his face!...
earlier in the week i had sent the lord of the ring to fetch the box and give it to him when they were nearly done with the book...i remember saying
"they don't really taste like the things they say, do they?"
"oh no, that's gross...they are just jelly beans"
i kinda thought it would be cool if they did, but was glad they don't...who in their right mind would eat a vomit flavored jelly bean?...
so back to last night...the duke is reading the flavors included in the box...
"earwax, spaghetti, black pepper, earthworm, sardine, dirt, soap, grass, vomit, and booger...hey, what's a booger?"
the kid does not know what a booger is because i never taught him the word booger...because it is one of the most vile words in the human language, and it is not spoken in our house...sometimes i secretly think we homeschool just so he won't go to public school and learn the word booger...
appetizing flavors, huh?...plus, it's like a box of chocolates, they are all in their own compartment, and are the color(s) of what they are supposed to be...
grass is green, black pepper is grey and black, booger is just gross...you get the idea...
so he considers awhile which one to try, clearly expecting them to taste as they say they will...it's at this point i'm a bit bummed for him...i mean, here he has this candy he's been dying for, and it's cool, but i know he'll be a bit disappointed because they aren't real after all...sometimes it sucks being a kid...life seems so mysterious and cool until you realize it's just one big marketing scheme...
just then, the sardine bean hit...the duke had tried the grass, said it was "okay", and got the lord of the ring to agree to taste a sardine...gamely playing along with the appropriate grimacing (but loving jelly beans) he pops the sardine in his mouth...
he's saying "oh my god, ewwwwwww!" and kinda making this gagging noise and seems to either be laughing or crying...man, i think, i never knew the lord of the ring was such a good actor...then he says as he races by me on the way downstairs to the sink
"it really does taste like sardines!"
and then i realize, this really is a box of bertie bott's every flavor beans STRAIGHT FROM THE BOOK!...jelly beans that taste like the disgusting things they say they taste like!...it's real...harry potter has come to life in the duke's bedroom...
the duke is at once disgusted and totally completely thrilled...earwax is kinda waxy tasting, spaghetti is sort of bland and wheaty, etc...
i tried the grass, it was kinda herby...
and then the lord of the ring begged me to try vomit because he did and wanted to share the disgusting experience with his lovely wife...who in their right mind would eat a vomit flavored jelly bean?...apparently i would and so would the man i married...and i did, purely for the duke's sake...remembering all the while that this was my bright idea...plus, no one has ever accused me of being in my right mind...
vomit didn't taste like vomit, but more like the way your mouth and throat taste after you vomit...acidy, and really creepy...
after that i needed to clean out my mouth so i tasted the soap, and it tasted like the absolute worst cheap perfumed soap you have ever used...
they are made by jelly belly, i should've guessed...and even though i briefly considered the fact that they could be real, i never truly believed they would be...because it's just too disgusting a notion...
perfect if you're a seven year old boy...
but i have to say, my little adventurer has yet to try all the beans...he's scared...as well he should be, they're gross!...
and, in a moment of bravado, i told him i would try each one of them today...blech...but i'm going to do it...good thing i already tried vomit...and as disgusting as it is, it's just priceless the see the duke so excited and into it...
"here wingman, you used to like to eat dirt...here's a dirt flavored jelly bean"
"yuck!" says wingman, staring at the duke with a look that says "i may be three but i'm not stupid!"...
or the following exchange between the duke and i at breakfast this morning
"mama, what is vomit?"
"it's throw-up"
"ugh...i had no idea"
so there you go...as much as i am disgusted, and still have six more beans to try, i am so glad the jelly beans are just like they are in the book...it's great to see a child's imagination validated and brought to life...even if it is the form of an earthworm flavored jelly bean...
and there are plenty of them here...it's a fairly big box...i don't anticipate the contents going quickly...
so if you pay us a visit anytime soon, you too can satisfy your curiosity and be as equally as disgusted...
oh, and be very aware if the duke suddenly and generously offers you a handful of oddly colored jelly beans...
x.
oh, and vill gluck zum geburril to the goddess mother!...that's happy birthday (or something like it) in schwyzerduetsch...swiss german...the glowingly beautiful pregnant goddess mother is presently in switzerland with the mathematician and today is her birthday...so, old girl, may you have the happiest of birthdays, and may you continue to find bathrooms and linzer tortes when you need them...i love you, x.
the duke and the lord of the ring have been reading harry potter lately...they are nearly done with book three...
he hasn't seen the movies as we wanted him to get into the books and his imagination before the movies (which are excellent and he will LOVE them, i'm sure) did it for him...
so, he's really gotten into them...knowing they are fiction, but thinking perhaps some part of them could be real...which works in my favor in that we are studying latin this next school year and he thinks that is way cool...so he can learn spells...
god help us all...
anyway, it's been a really positive and exciting experience for him...
that just got better...
some days ago we were at an ice cream store with an adjoining candy shop...and what does he spy but a long box filled with "bertie bott's every flavor beans"...now, if you haven't read the books or seen the movies, these are basically jelly beans, but with a twist...a la willy wonka and the chocolate factory these beans can taste like anything...chocolate, grape jelly, earwax, tripe, etc...and the best part is you never know what you're gonna get...
well, while reading the book the duke was enthralled with the idea of these beans, so you can imagine his surprise in seeing them in person...and it wasn't the small box you might see at the supermarket check out, this was a box worthy of wanting...
he went on and on and on about it...
"but they have earwax, and vomit, and earthworm!...ten flavors in all!"
we didn't get the box because we had had ice cream, and weren't getting candy on top of that...
he was pretty disappointed...
until last night...because when he got upstairs to read, there on his pillow right next to the book was a box of bertie bott's every flavor beans...
man, you should have seen his face!...
earlier in the week i had sent the lord of the ring to fetch the box and give it to him when they were nearly done with the book...i remember saying
"they don't really taste like the things they say, do they?"
"oh no, that's gross...they are just jelly beans"
i kinda thought it would be cool if they did, but was glad they don't...who in their right mind would eat a vomit flavored jelly bean?...
so back to last night...the duke is reading the flavors included in the box...
"earwax, spaghetti, black pepper, earthworm, sardine, dirt, soap, grass, vomit, and booger...hey, what's a booger?"
the kid does not know what a booger is because i never taught him the word booger...because it is one of the most vile words in the human language, and it is not spoken in our house...sometimes i secretly think we homeschool just so he won't go to public school and learn the word booger...
appetizing flavors, huh?...plus, it's like a box of chocolates, they are all in their own compartment, and are the color(s) of what they are supposed to be...
grass is green, black pepper is grey and black, booger is just gross...you get the idea...
so he considers awhile which one to try, clearly expecting them to taste as they say they will...it's at this point i'm a bit bummed for him...i mean, here he has this candy he's been dying for, and it's cool, but i know he'll be a bit disappointed because they aren't real after all...sometimes it sucks being a kid...life seems so mysterious and cool until you realize it's just one big marketing scheme...
just then, the sardine bean hit...the duke had tried the grass, said it was "okay", and got the lord of the ring to agree to taste a sardine...gamely playing along with the appropriate grimacing (but loving jelly beans) he pops the sardine in his mouth...
he's saying "oh my god, ewwwwwww!" and kinda making this gagging noise and seems to either be laughing or crying...man, i think, i never knew the lord of the ring was such a good actor...then he says as he races by me on the way downstairs to the sink
"it really does taste like sardines!"
and then i realize, this really is a box of bertie bott's every flavor beans STRAIGHT FROM THE BOOK!...jelly beans that taste like the disgusting things they say they taste like!...it's real...harry potter has come to life in the duke's bedroom...
the duke is at once disgusted and totally completely thrilled...earwax is kinda waxy tasting, spaghetti is sort of bland and wheaty, etc...
i tried the grass, it was kinda herby...
and then the lord of the ring begged me to try vomit because he did and wanted to share the disgusting experience with his lovely wife...who in their right mind would eat a vomit flavored jelly bean?...apparently i would and so would the man i married...and i did, purely for the duke's sake...remembering all the while that this was my bright idea...plus, no one has ever accused me of being in my right mind...
vomit didn't taste like vomit, but more like the way your mouth and throat taste after you vomit...acidy, and really creepy...
after that i needed to clean out my mouth so i tasted the soap, and it tasted like the absolute worst cheap perfumed soap you have ever used...
they are made by jelly belly, i should've guessed...and even though i briefly considered the fact that they could be real, i never truly believed they would be...because it's just too disgusting a notion...
perfect if you're a seven year old boy...
but i have to say, my little adventurer has yet to try all the beans...he's scared...as well he should be, they're gross!...
and, in a moment of bravado, i told him i would try each one of them today...blech...but i'm going to do it...good thing i already tried vomit...and as disgusting as it is, it's just priceless the see the duke so excited and into it...
"here wingman, you used to like to eat dirt...here's a dirt flavored jelly bean"
"yuck!" says wingman, staring at the duke with a look that says "i may be three but i'm not stupid!"...
or the following exchange between the duke and i at breakfast this morning
"mama, what is vomit?"
"it's throw-up"
"ugh...i had no idea"
so there you go...as much as i am disgusted, and still have six more beans to try, i am so glad the jelly beans are just like they are in the book...it's great to see a child's imagination validated and brought to life...even if it is the form of an earthworm flavored jelly bean...
and there are plenty of them here...it's a fairly big box...i don't anticipate the contents going quickly...
so if you pay us a visit anytime soon, you too can satisfy your curiosity and be as equally as disgusted...
oh, and be very aware if the duke suddenly and generously offers you a handful of oddly colored jelly beans...
x.
oh, and vill gluck zum geburril to the goddess mother!...that's happy birthday (or something like it) in schwyzerduetsch...swiss german...the glowingly beautiful pregnant goddess mother is presently in switzerland with the mathematician and today is her birthday...so, old girl, may you have the happiest of birthdays, and may you continue to find bathrooms and linzer tortes when you need them...i love you, x.
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
follow the leader...
last week i explained to the duke that as the big brother he was the *leader*...
that it was obvious that almost anything he did wingman would copy...this was not news to him, but i felt that i needed to address it in much more depth than i had before...
and while the duke of fun isn't a particularly reckless or daring boy, he definitely is rambunctious...and sometimes that rambunctiousness translates into dangerous or annoying behavior...
all of which wingman is just soaking up...
i used to worry about this...that the duke's growing up was hampered by the things he *couldn't do because of wingman* and conversely wingman was doing things and learning things *much faster than the duke ever did*...
i don't worry about this so much anymore because it's a colossal waste of time and energy...it's about who came first and who came after...birth order...you are born when you are...and nothing changes that...
so the fact that the duke has attendant responsibility with being the oldest child, and wingman is doing things at three that the duke wasn't even close to getting to do at six, that's the way it goes...
and i should know a thing or two about birth order...both that it does play a part in our personality and that you can't pick where you are in the order...where am i?...i am the middle child...and i am a middle child to a definite and worried and moody "t"...
i still remember the day my parents brought my younger sister home from the hospital...it was really really hot...and my parents came in and put this baby down on the couch and she was screaming her head off...she was obviously in discomfort because of the heat, but at nearly four years old i hadn't a clue about any of that...all i remember is peering down at her and thinking, oh great...this is not good...
and it wasn't that *she* was not good, i did enjoy having a younger sister, well, until she became stronger and cleverer than me, it's that inherently i knew that another child made three...and as the second of three, i was the middle child and therefore doomed...
don't ask me how i knew...must be a middle child thing...
middle children are an interesting lot...the first borns tend to get the glory and the last borns get the spotlight...therefore, most likely not intentionally yet certainly not surprisingly, the middle child is left sweeping the stage and turning off the lights...
of course not always, nothing is absolute...but it tends to be that if you have the achiever ahead of you, the one who gets all the glory and attention (whether positive or negative attention is dependent on the particular person) and then the superstar behind you, the one who gets away with murder, the middle child somehow gets outshined...therefore, *place* in family is not firmly established, and the middle child is somehow left scrambling (or not) to try and *fit* in...they tend to become secretive and sensitive as a result...independent...hard to read...odd...
trust me, it explains a LOT about much of my behavior as a child and young adult...and i have a sneaking suspicion it's what indirectly led me to inadvertently flash an entire restaurant filled with my friends and family with my 24 year old bottom while trying to just show a few my new tattoo...
but i digress...
now, i only have two children...so the *middle child* does not come into play...but who is the *leader* does...and they say that in a family of two, second borns tend to be the exact opposite of first borns...
again, it really does depend on the actual children...but it happens enough that it becomes part of the *something to think about* club...
and while i'm not trying to box my children in, when the facts present themselves, i need to be willing to explore my options...
and the fact is, they are still developing their personalities, and far be it for me to *pin* them down at this stage of the game...
however, the duke is first and therefore he is wingman's prime example for behavior...and i would like to influence that towards the positive...
that's where being the *leader* comes in...
only i took it one step further...and i let him know that he was the *leader*, but more than that, i would like him to be *a leader*...not just the guy who does everything first, but the guy who becomes a positive influence on his younger brother...a younger brother who is already proving himself to fit in quite nicely with the "second born" behavior traits of birth order...one of which is whatever the duke does, he does...another of which is anything he does it in his own special, dramatic, and totally off-beat way...which is natural as he is an individual, but his way of doing things is far different from how the duke did anything at that age...
and this may seem like a big lot of something to ask of a seven year old...to be a leader...a leader even to a child who does most things his own way...
but i don't think so...first, i don't *expect* it of him, i made it clear that's what i'd like him to think about...because whether or not he likes being the big brother, he is...and that's NOT going to change, and as a result he has two little blue eyes watching nearly everything he does (well, four, if you count mine!)...and that he has a choice when it comes to his actions...and second, i have found that in situations such as this if the lord of the ring and i are clear and concise about what we are asking for, and act as *guides* rather than *law* with our boys, they are more likely to actually participate in positive decision making...and that children in general are capable of much much more than we think they are...
also, i do have to say that while wingman is capable of doing anything the duke does, there are times when he also does things on his own right beside the duke...and the duke is doing things on his own right beside wingman...they are not always a pair...a glimpse of the future...
it should be an adventure to see how the duke leads, and how wingman will follow...and to see at which point their paths truly split, taking them in the direction they are each meant to go...when the duke no longer feels the responsibility of being the *only* leader and wingman charts his own course and flies on his own...
for now, i enjoy watching them unfold in the presence of one another...finding their way on the same path, at times side by side, hand grabbing hand at the missteps, but for the most part, the duke in front paving the way and wingman following close behind...
x.
oh, and happy happy birthday to the firstborn!!!...were it not for you, i wouldn't be the middle child...and i wouldn't change that or you being my big sister for the world...lovelovelove, x.
that it was obvious that almost anything he did wingman would copy...this was not news to him, but i felt that i needed to address it in much more depth than i had before...
and while the duke of fun isn't a particularly reckless or daring boy, he definitely is rambunctious...and sometimes that rambunctiousness translates into dangerous or annoying behavior...
all of which wingman is just soaking up...
i used to worry about this...that the duke's growing up was hampered by the things he *couldn't do because of wingman* and conversely wingman was doing things and learning things *much faster than the duke ever did*...
i don't worry about this so much anymore because it's a colossal waste of time and energy...it's about who came first and who came after...birth order...you are born when you are...and nothing changes that...
so the fact that the duke has attendant responsibility with being the oldest child, and wingman is doing things at three that the duke wasn't even close to getting to do at six, that's the way it goes...
and i should know a thing or two about birth order...both that it does play a part in our personality and that you can't pick where you are in the order...where am i?...i am the middle child...and i am a middle child to a definite and worried and moody "t"...
i still remember the day my parents brought my younger sister home from the hospital...it was really really hot...and my parents came in and put this baby down on the couch and she was screaming her head off...she was obviously in discomfort because of the heat, but at nearly four years old i hadn't a clue about any of that...all i remember is peering down at her and thinking, oh great...this is not good...
and it wasn't that *she* was not good, i did enjoy having a younger sister, well, until she became stronger and cleverer than me, it's that inherently i knew that another child made three...and as the second of three, i was the middle child and therefore doomed...
don't ask me how i knew...must be a middle child thing...
middle children are an interesting lot...the first borns tend to get the glory and the last borns get the spotlight...therefore, most likely not intentionally yet certainly not surprisingly, the middle child is left sweeping the stage and turning off the lights...
of course not always, nothing is absolute...but it tends to be that if you have the achiever ahead of you, the one who gets all the glory and attention (whether positive or negative attention is dependent on the particular person) and then the superstar behind you, the one who gets away with murder, the middle child somehow gets outshined...therefore, *place* in family is not firmly established, and the middle child is somehow left scrambling (or not) to try and *fit* in...they tend to become secretive and sensitive as a result...independent...hard to read...odd...
trust me, it explains a LOT about much of my behavior as a child and young adult...and i have a sneaking suspicion it's what indirectly led me to inadvertently flash an entire restaurant filled with my friends and family with my 24 year old bottom while trying to just show a few my new tattoo...
but i digress...
now, i only have two children...so the *middle child* does not come into play...but who is the *leader* does...and they say that in a family of two, second borns tend to be the exact opposite of first borns...
again, it really does depend on the actual children...but it happens enough that it becomes part of the *something to think about* club...
and while i'm not trying to box my children in, when the facts present themselves, i need to be willing to explore my options...
and the fact is, they are still developing their personalities, and far be it for me to *pin* them down at this stage of the game...
however, the duke is first and therefore he is wingman's prime example for behavior...and i would like to influence that towards the positive...
that's where being the *leader* comes in...
only i took it one step further...and i let him know that he was the *leader*, but more than that, i would like him to be *a leader*...not just the guy who does everything first, but the guy who becomes a positive influence on his younger brother...a younger brother who is already proving himself to fit in quite nicely with the "second born" behavior traits of birth order...one of which is whatever the duke does, he does...another of which is anything he does it in his own special, dramatic, and totally off-beat way...which is natural as he is an individual, but his way of doing things is far different from how the duke did anything at that age...
and this may seem like a big lot of something to ask of a seven year old...to be a leader...a leader even to a child who does most things his own way...
but i don't think so...first, i don't *expect* it of him, i made it clear that's what i'd like him to think about...because whether or not he likes being the big brother, he is...and that's NOT going to change, and as a result he has two little blue eyes watching nearly everything he does (well, four, if you count mine!)...and that he has a choice when it comes to his actions...and second, i have found that in situations such as this if the lord of the ring and i are clear and concise about what we are asking for, and act as *guides* rather than *law* with our boys, they are more likely to actually participate in positive decision making...and that children in general are capable of much much more than we think they are...
also, i do have to say that while wingman is capable of doing anything the duke does, there are times when he also does things on his own right beside the duke...and the duke is doing things on his own right beside wingman...they are not always a pair...a glimpse of the future...
it should be an adventure to see how the duke leads, and how wingman will follow...and to see at which point their paths truly split, taking them in the direction they are each meant to go...when the duke no longer feels the responsibility of being the *only* leader and wingman charts his own course and flies on his own...
for now, i enjoy watching them unfold in the presence of one another...finding their way on the same path, at times side by side, hand grabbing hand at the missteps, but for the most part, the duke in front paving the way and wingman following close behind...
x.
oh, and happy happy birthday to the firstborn!!!...were it not for you, i wouldn't be the middle child...and i wouldn't change that or you being my big sister for the world...lovelovelove, x.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
joyeux anniversaire!
happy birthday to the bag lady in paris!
and since i can not possibly get ahold of her, i am addressing this happy birthday greeting to the "other mother"...*corporate climber* and all around wild woman...
why i love my "mother"; an acrostic
b because nearly 33 years later, she will still get mad if i go outside with wet hair and no hat
a and still kinda thinks it's funny when i do an impersonation of her mother, but i bet she secretly wonders if i do an impersonation of her when she's not around...but is too smart to ask
g great big red poppies grow gloriously in her garden
l lies and says she doesn't have my phone number when lovestuck, pockmarked, homeless genius's who smell like cat pee call to get ahold of me
a and can say my name with absolutely pitch perfect disdain when irritated
d drives and talks with her hands at the same time
y you really need to stop this, mom
i i can not imagine a world in which i am not referred to as "shoo-shoo"
n nor do i want to
p paints her house like a mad fool in cool colors
a all i'm saying is if you look at the evidence, it's no mystery why i favor bandanas
r really uppity when given half the chance
i increasingly so as she gracefully ages
s she continues, to this day, to believe in phrases like "own your own shadow" and "not poor, resourceful" and "my people"...
happy birthday, mom!
i love you...
x.
and since i can not possibly get ahold of her, i am addressing this happy birthday greeting to the "other mother"...*corporate climber* and all around wild woman...
why i love my "mother"; an acrostic
b because nearly 33 years later, she will still get mad if i go outside with wet hair and no hat
a and still kinda thinks it's funny when i do an impersonation of her mother, but i bet she secretly wonders if i do an impersonation of her when she's not around...but is too smart to ask
g great big red poppies grow gloriously in her garden
l lies and says she doesn't have my phone number when lovestuck, pockmarked, homeless genius's who smell like cat pee call to get ahold of me
a and can say my name with absolutely pitch perfect disdain when irritated
d drives and talks with her hands at the same time
y you really need to stop this, mom
i i can not imagine a world in which i am not referred to as "shoo-shoo"
n nor do i want to
p paints her house like a mad fool in cool colors
a all i'm saying is if you look at the evidence, it's no mystery why i favor bandanas
r really uppity when given half the chance
i increasingly so as she gracefully ages
s she continues, to this day, to believe in phrases like "own your own shadow" and "not poor, resourceful" and "my people"...
happy birthday, mom!
i love you...
x.
Monday, July 12, 2004
who are these kids, and why are they calling me mom?
how do you get to be somebody's *mother*?
well, now i know how it happens, i just wonder how motherhood can progress to become your whole existence?...an existence that more often than we'd like is accompanied by bitterness and stress?...an existence that comes with a seeming lack of *self*?...
i have wrestled with this periodically since becoming a mother, and twice in the past few days it has come up in conversation with other people...this questioning of how you can be one person before kids, and quite a different (or perceived as such) after...where is it that *you* went?...and who is this person you have become?...
the obvious answer is you have kids...and when you have kids it necessitates a change of lifestyle, attitude, etc...natural progression, part of the process...
but when exactly did bitterness and being overworked and overwhelmed become a part of the equation for so many of us?...that it's almost what we have come to expect, come to accept as part of motherhood...and does being a mother have to mean a loss or prolonged placing on hold of *self*?...
certainly the sheer daily physical, mental, emotional, moral, and spiritual responsibility of being a mother can seemingly necessitate full time focus on something other than yourself...you can't be somebody's mother only part time...but does that mean you have to give up *self* in the process?...
no...you don't...it's possible to be a mother AND be your *self*...it's possible because it's a choice that we have made...and the great thing about choosing, is that there are always more options...always...we just have to give ourselves the permission to explore our options...
we have to give ourselves permission to ask the very basic question of what do you want?...in addition to being a mother, what do you want?...to do?...to be?...in life?
much easier said than done...because it's an admittance that there have been options all along...and perhaps, for many of us, we have not allowed ourselves to explore them...that this is a life that did not just happen, but rather one that was chosen...perhaps by not having made any choices at all along the way...
mothers are forever offering up choices to their children and family, but when do we give ourselves the opportunity to choose?...rarely, if ever...because when you're scraping by to get through the day, choice is just one more thing to *do*...
it's nearly an automatic assumption that when we become mothers we must accept the inevitable loss of, among many other things, *self*...that it's natural for personal identity to fall by the wayside...we can always come back to it, but right now my children need *me* more than i do...
unfortunately i bought into that notion, lock, stock, and barrel...
because i used to believe that my children would not benefit from my exploration of *self*...that it would detract from their development, that their needs would go unfulfilled...that the guilt would be too much for me to bear...and because of this, *mother* and *self* became mutually exclusive...
but i was wrong...wrong because the basic principle of survival tells us that we must secure the oxygen mask on our own faces before trying to assist someone else...i didn't learn how to do that...and i am just now realizing that it is not only okay, it is necessary...
and it has taken me this long to realize that being a mother isn't about what you have to give up...that it's simply, yet gloriously, one more facet of who we are...and is more about opportunity than sacrifice...that when we become mothers we don't sacrifice *self*, rather we accept the opportunity to add layers to, and move into deeper parts of our existing *self*...
i'm not suggesting that my parenting choices up till now were ill-conceived, quite the opposite in fact...i feel confident as a parent...i feel as though i'm finally reaching my stride...that each day now unfolds before me rather than enveloping me and leaving no room to breathe...but in order to have achieved that, i focused on myself as *mother* rather than *person*...and i am now realizing i could have, should have been doing both...
because while i want to be here and have consciously chosen this path, i have finally realized that i never applied the mask...that i have been assisting my children and family for years now without actually inhaling...or exhaling for that matter...
and now that i figured out what it is i want, outside of and in addition to being a stay at home, homeschooling mother of two, i am breathing for the first time in years...i am inhaling possibilities, and exhaling constraint and lack of drive...exhaling the idea that i *shouldn't*...
and by not only asking myself what it is that *i* want, but also then giving myself permission to pursue it, i can move on to fully becoming the person i was meant to be...i am a mother, and i am myself...
and i see people choosing their lives simply by not choosing at all...we spend so much time talking about what we don't want...what we don't like...what is not working...being stressed, bitter, and overworked in our acceptance of responsibility...and so little time actually asking ourselves what it is we do want...
(of course, that applies to all silly mortals...not just the mothers...)
and when you ask yourself what you want, what you love in addition to children and family, life opens up...because when you do what you love, the rest comes...it just does...
and now that i know what it is that i want, there is flow...real honest to goodness flow...the kind that lifts and energizes, the kind you read about...the kind that happens to happy, successful people...
the kind of flow that comes of getting what it is that you asked for, and having been able to ask for it in the first place...
x.
well, now i know how it happens, i just wonder how motherhood can progress to become your whole existence?...an existence that more often than we'd like is accompanied by bitterness and stress?...an existence that comes with a seeming lack of *self*?...
i have wrestled with this periodically since becoming a mother, and twice in the past few days it has come up in conversation with other people...this questioning of how you can be one person before kids, and quite a different (or perceived as such) after...where is it that *you* went?...and who is this person you have become?...
the obvious answer is you have kids...and when you have kids it necessitates a change of lifestyle, attitude, etc...natural progression, part of the process...
but when exactly did bitterness and being overworked and overwhelmed become a part of the equation for so many of us?...that it's almost what we have come to expect, come to accept as part of motherhood...and does being a mother have to mean a loss or prolonged placing on hold of *self*?...
certainly the sheer daily physical, mental, emotional, moral, and spiritual responsibility of being a mother can seemingly necessitate full time focus on something other than yourself...you can't be somebody's mother only part time...but does that mean you have to give up *self* in the process?...
no...you don't...it's possible to be a mother AND be your *self*...it's possible because it's a choice that we have made...and the great thing about choosing, is that there are always more options...always...we just have to give ourselves the permission to explore our options...
we have to give ourselves permission to ask the very basic question of what do you want?...in addition to being a mother, what do you want?...to do?...to be?...in life?
much easier said than done...because it's an admittance that there have been options all along...and perhaps, for many of us, we have not allowed ourselves to explore them...that this is a life that did not just happen, but rather one that was chosen...perhaps by not having made any choices at all along the way...
mothers are forever offering up choices to their children and family, but when do we give ourselves the opportunity to choose?...rarely, if ever...because when you're scraping by to get through the day, choice is just one more thing to *do*...
it's nearly an automatic assumption that when we become mothers we must accept the inevitable loss of, among many other things, *self*...that it's natural for personal identity to fall by the wayside...we can always come back to it, but right now my children need *me* more than i do...
unfortunately i bought into that notion, lock, stock, and barrel...
because i used to believe that my children would not benefit from my exploration of *self*...that it would detract from their development, that their needs would go unfulfilled...that the guilt would be too much for me to bear...and because of this, *mother* and *self* became mutually exclusive...
but i was wrong...wrong because the basic principle of survival tells us that we must secure the oxygen mask on our own faces before trying to assist someone else...i didn't learn how to do that...and i am just now realizing that it is not only okay, it is necessary...
and it has taken me this long to realize that being a mother isn't about what you have to give up...that it's simply, yet gloriously, one more facet of who we are...and is more about opportunity than sacrifice...that when we become mothers we don't sacrifice *self*, rather we accept the opportunity to add layers to, and move into deeper parts of our existing *self*...
i'm not suggesting that my parenting choices up till now were ill-conceived, quite the opposite in fact...i feel confident as a parent...i feel as though i'm finally reaching my stride...that each day now unfolds before me rather than enveloping me and leaving no room to breathe...but in order to have achieved that, i focused on myself as *mother* rather than *person*...and i am now realizing i could have, should have been doing both...
because while i want to be here and have consciously chosen this path, i have finally realized that i never applied the mask...that i have been assisting my children and family for years now without actually inhaling...or exhaling for that matter...
and now that i figured out what it is i want, outside of and in addition to being a stay at home, homeschooling mother of two, i am breathing for the first time in years...i am inhaling possibilities, and exhaling constraint and lack of drive...exhaling the idea that i *shouldn't*...
and by not only asking myself what it is that *i* want, but also then giving myself permission to pursue it, i can move on to fully becoming the person i was meant to be...i am a mother, and i am myself...
and i see people choosing their lives simply by not choosing at all...we spend so much time talking about what we don't want...what we don't like...what is not working...being stressed, bitter, and overworked in our acceptance of responsibility...and so little time actually asking ourselves what it is we do want...
(of course, that applies to all silly mortals...not just the mothers...)
and when you ask yourself what you want, what you love in addition to children and family, life opens up...because when you do what you love, the rest comes...it just does...
and now that i know what it is that i want, there is flow...real honest to goodness flow...the kind that lifts and energizes, the kind you read about...the kind that happens to happy, successful people...
the kind of flow that comes of getting what it is that you asked for, and having been able to ask for it in the first place...
x.
Friday, July 09, 2004
sometimes i forget i have boys...
really...as boybarianish as my boys are, mostly i just see them as kids...
and then they start running around shouting professor poopypants! over and over and over and just laughing like there's no tomorrow...and i remember, oh yeah, i have boys...
last evening i took the duke to the library...he had joined their summer reading club a few weeks ago, and after completing 10 hours of reading, he got to pick a new, free book to keep...he was there to claim his book...so we look at the rack of books and what does he spy?
captain underpants
but of course...
captain underpants is just as you imagine it would be...he is a baby looking super hero in a red cape and nothing else but, you guessed it, underpants...tighty whities to be exact...it is a series of books, each of which is basically a vehicle for very childish and very bad toilet humor...toilet humor that is generally NOT allowed in our house...and thus far i have been able to steer us clear of these books at the library and bookstore...but, he did the reading and he earned the right to choose his book, and he chose what he wanted...
and in this particular series the next book is captain underpants and the perilous plot of professor poopypants...
sigh...
and i have a feeling that "professor poopypants" has created a porthole...the duke of fun is getting older, which means i need to get wiser...and like everything else associated with parenting since i gave birth seven years ago, i'm gonna have to find a way to bend so i don't break...
and that, my friends, is admittedly not very easy for me...always worth it, but rarely ever easy...
he got the book and read it in an hour...it's a pretty light read, long on the toilet jokes, short on everything else...
far be it for me to pass judgement on book choices, however...anyone who knows me well knows i LOVE to read...LOVE IT...can't imagine my life without it...my first *real book* was at age nine...dandelion wine by ray bradbury...siddhartha by herman hesse has served as my spiritual compass and all time favorite book since i first read it at seventeen...and for some reason, still unbeknownst to me, dharma bums by jack kerouac has become a reading staple for nearly 15 years now...it somehow reminds me of where i am *from* in life...there is something so familiar about the story, something that is impossible for me to name...
but back to the passing of judgement...of which i have no room because anyone who knows me well also knows i have a deep love of trash novels and a near obsession for people magazine and the like...and it's not just books...my dad said once i had a strong streak of trash running through me...and i took that as a compliment!...how else would i be able to love all those *great* books, and still love trash novels, budweiser beer, power ballads, and bad t.v...hell, i was devoted to dawson's creek until the bastards took it off the air...and still, every once in awhile, i get a sense that something is missing in my life...and i realize, it's the creek...i miss the creek...
now that the duke is reading well and often, he's making his own choices at the library and bookstore...i make suggestions, and point out series he might enjoy (he took to the boxcar children, which i LOVED as a child), but he makes the final choice...
i can hardly wait until he gets to the book that comes after "professor poopypants"...captain underpants and the wrath of the wicked wedgie woman...
we classical homeschool, and in the classical homeschooling community at large, the pervasive belief is that books like captain underpants are considered "fluff" or "junk food" reading...and like good nutrition, kids should fill themselves with "good" books...
and i agree...to a point...kids should be exposed to good books...in the form of read aloud and read alone...i believe that a diet that consists solely of junk food, like a reading diet that consists solely of "junk books", is not a well balanced diet...
but, there is a time and a place for junk...especially in the form of food and books...i can no more think of a gastronomical existence that didn't include the occasional maple bar or pile of hot salty fries, than i can imagine a literary existence that didn't include gossipy magazines and romance books with "piratical" (a real word if you can believe it) bad boys and standard plot formulas...
it's about comfort and release...a few moments away in a world that doesn't require you think too hard about it...a world that someone won't ask you to discuss when you are done with it...that just for those moments in that little book world, life is good, perhaps amusing, and it is simple...
because another one of the facets of classical homeschooling is the reading aloud by the parent of great works of fiction, ancient history, etc. to the pupil...and then the pupil narrarates back to the parent, in their own words, what the story, or passage was about...and while reading odysseus last fall to the duke was exciting for both of us, it's not exactly a book that inspires *release* or *simplicity*...
with summer upon us, and an hour and a half of free reading for the duke every day (it's his rest time, and he chooses to read), he's enjoying reading a myriad of books...and because i am me, even though we aren't in school i will still ask him about captain underpants and many of the other books he chooses...what he liked, didn't like, what's so funny, etc...not for a *narraration*, just because i'm curious...
and the look on his face when something he is reading is funny, and getting funnier, and then the loud explosion of giggles that follow, well it's just priceless...and i know that he's having a great time in the little world he's in...that right then, at that moment, life is really really good...
and it makes my bending and growing along with my boys a little easier, and more than worth it...
even if it means i have to listen to top of the lung shouts of "professor poopypants!" for the rest of the summer...
x.
and then they start running around shouting professor poopypants! over and over and over and just laughing like there's no tomorrow...and i remember, oh yeah, i have boys...
last evening i took the duke to the library...he had joined their summer reading club a few weeks ago, and after completing 10 hours of reading, he got to pick a new, free book to keep...he was there to claim his book...so we look at the rack of books and what does he spy?
captain underpants
but of course...
captain underpants is just as you imagine it would be...he is a baby looking super hero in a red cape and nothing else but, you guessed it, underpants...tighty whities to be exact...it is a series of books, each of which is basically a vehicle for very childish and very bad toilet humor...toilet humor that is generally NOT allowed in our house...and thus far i have been able to steer us clear of these books at the library and bookstore...but, he did the reading and he earned the right to choose his book, and he chose what he wanted...
and in this particular series the next book is captain underpants and the perilous plot of professor poopypants...
sigh...
and i have a feeling that "professor poopypants" has created a porthole...the duke of fun is getting older, which means i need to get wiser...and like everything else associated with parenting since i gave birth seven years ago, i'm gonna have to find a way to bend so i don't break...
and that, my friends, is admittedly not very easy for me...always worth it, but rarely ever easy...
he got the book and read it in an hour...it's a pretty light read, long on the toilet jokes, short on everything else...
far be it for me to pass judgement on book choices, however...anyone who knows me well knows i LOVE to read...LOVE IT...can't imagine my life without it...my first *real book* was at age nine...dandelion wine by ray bradbury...siddhartha by herman hesse has served as my spiritual compass and all time favorite book since i first read it at seventeen...and for some reason, still unbeknownst to me, dharma bums by jack kerouac has become a reading staple for nearly 15 years now...it somehow reminds me of where i am *from* in life...there is something so familiar about the story, something that is impossible for me to name...
but back to the passing of judgement...of which i have no room because anyone who knows me well also knows i have a deep love of trash novels and a near obsession for people magazine and the like...and it's not just books...my dad said once i had a strong streak of trash running through me...and i took that as a compliment!...how else would i be able to love all those *great* books, and still love trash novels, budweiser beer, power ballads, and bad t.v...hell, i was devoted to dawson's creek until the bastards took it off the air...and still, every once in awhile, i get a sense that something is missing in my life...and i realize, it's the creek...i miss the creek...
now that the duke is reading well and often, he's making his own choices at the library and bookstore...i make suggestions, and point out series he might enjoy (he took to the boxcar children, which i LOVED as a child), but he makes the final choice...
i can hardly wait until he gets to the book that comes after "professor poopypants"...captain underpants and the wrath of the wicked wedgie woman...
we classical homeschool, and in the classical homeschooling community at large, the pervasive belief is that books like captain underpants are considered "fluff" or "junk food" reading...and like good nutrition, kids should fill themselves with "good" books...
and i agree...to a point...kids should be exposed to good books...in the form of read aloud and read alone...i believe that a diet that consists solely of junk food, like a reading diet that consists solely of "junk books", is not a well balanced diet...
but, there is a time and a place for junk...especially in the form of food and books...i can no more think of a gastronomical existence that didn't include the occasional maple bar or pile of hot salty fries, than i can imagine a literary existence that didn't include gossipy magazines and romance books with "piratical" (a real word if you can believe it) bad boys and standard plot formulas...
it's about comfort and release...a few moments away in a world that doesn't require you think too hard about it...a world that someone won't ask you to discuss when you are done with it...that just for those moments in that little book world, life is good, perhaps amusing, and it is simple...
because another one of the facets of classical homeschooling is the reading aloud by the parent of great works of fiction, ancient history, etc. to the pupil...and then the pupil narrarates back to the parent, in their own words, what the story, or passage was about...and while reading odysseus last fall to the duke was exciting for both of us, it's not exactly a book that inspires *release* or *simplicity*...
with summer upon us, and an hour and a half of free reading for the duke every day (it's his rest time, and he chooses to read), he's enjoying reading a myriad of books...and because i am me, even though we aren't in school i will still ask him about captain underpants and many of the other books he chooses...what he liked, didn't like, what's so funny, etc...not for a *narraration*, just because i'm curious...
and the look on his face when something he is reading is funny, and getting funnier, and then the loud explosion of giggles that follow, well it's just priceless...and i know that he's having a great time in the little world he's in...that right then, at that moment, life is really really good...
and it makes my bending and growing along with my boys a little easier, and more than worth it...
even if it means i have to listen to top of the lung shouts of "professor poopypants!" for the rest of the summer...
x.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
smarter than the average bear?
so i took an i.q. test yesterday...which is totally unlike me in that i am not a firm believer in measuring intelligence...but i was curious so i did it anyway...(man, how many times has that statement gotten me into trouble!)
but i can't tell you my score...not because i'm keeping it a secret, but because it was one of those tests they administer on-line and when you want your results they make you send in your e-mail and all sorts of other private information to get them...
i don't like that kinda thing so i opted out...
and i wonder if i don't like it better this way?...having completed the test but not knowing the score...because although i know i possess some amount of intelligence, i am kind of concerned about knowing exactly how much...or how little!...
the test was difficult...but i felt i did a good job in that i answered every question and there was only one i was unsure of...
well, on page one...
page two was a whole page of those spatial type questions...like they want you to choose the one that best continues the sequence...
i can rarely see why the sequence they give you matches in the first place!...let alone continue it!...maybe on one or two, the really easy ones...but damn, these were hard!...
i know i'm not spatially aware, but i really really tried to see the pattern...any kind of connection...it was like being lost in denver at three in the morning...the flattest place with seemingly NO landmarks and could we get a street or freeway sign over here!...just ONE!...c'mon, throw me a bone!...(it's been nearly ten years and i still have issues with my one trip to denver)...
so i was trying to see the patterns, something, anything, before i started guessing...i couldn't...
so i did what any intelligent person would do, i got help...i know i know it's a *test*, but it was supposed to be for *fun*...but it wasn't fun...and i felt that the test didn't keep up it's end of the bargain, so i called in the duke...
now the duke, like his father, is a very spatially aware individual...he could help me...and, i reasoned, it wouldn't really be cheating as he is my own flesh and blood...and therefore, just an extention of me...
poor kid, i hope he never reads this...
anyhow, to make a long story short, he took a crack at it, but didn't really understand what the sequences were either...it didn't help that i attempted to solicit his help right in the middle of his watching magic school bus, all the while wingman kept on yelling "hey, dude" over and over and over just because he was wearing sunglasses...
so, that was a bust...i spent a bit more time and realized the answer to one of them, and had to kinda guess (i thought i might just maybe kinda know) at the other three...
so i guess i am a bit upset i didn't get my score...simply to see the ones i missed...
but it's not going to change me...
i'm still going to have that spatial relationship problem...it prevents me from packing the car for trips in the most efficient manner...or being able to cut and paste properly when working on a word document...or heaven forbid being able to do much of anything on the computer except type...
and i can't read a map, or remember where individual countries are...sure, point a to point b is a piece of cake...but deviate from that and i'm a goner...
and the duke?...he can read a map like a champ...he can look at an atlas, globe, road map and see it in a way i just can't...once he figured out how long it would take him to travel the length of brazil non-stop...
where is brazil?...
he's always been like that...i am remembering when the duke was small, and we had just gotten him a wooden train track in a figure eight pattern...sucker took me six months to figure out to where i didn't have to spend an hour studying the box and swearing...i kid you not!...i was so frustrated every time...
and the duke at three years old figured it out before i did...it took him no time at all...i think he just asked me to help him put it together because it was so funny to see me get so mad...
and i'm also remembering that i'd feel so guilty i got so mad that i'd usually compensate in the form of an extra treat or half hour of television...
no need to test that kid...
and last halloween, the duke wanted native american costumes for he and wingman...we found a great pattern, fabric, ribbon, the whole nine yards (give or take a yard...tee hee)...i spent days sewing and they turned out fabulously if i do say so myself...BUT, in the beginning, when i first opened the pattern i was near tears...literally...i couldn't understand a thing...
sure, i knew enough to know the sizes i needed, and how much fabric, but the actual pattern?...(and have you ever actually opened a pattern?...it EXPLODES!)...forget that i was sitting in a sea of it in my dining room, even when i did manage to smooth it out a bit, it might as well have been written in aramaic...it was a disaster...i had to call a friend's mother whom i knew to be a wonderful seamstress, get some pointers, then give those pointers to the lord of the ring...
who then cut out BOTH sizes from ONE pattern like he'd been hanging around the sewing store his whole life!...he saw the pattern and didn't cry, just figured it out and started cutting...he was able to *see* how the pattern went, and how out of one pattern you really could cut out two VERY different sizes...
(poor guy, he was sweating cutting out the pattern, though...not because he didn't know what he was doing, but because i was hovering over him just waiting for him to *ruin* the $15 pattern i couldn't replace...four days before halloween)
so working together, the lord of the ring and i were able to get the costumes done...and while i'd like to have been able to not freak at the sight of the pattern and be able to cut it out myself, i am grateful i have help when i need it...
as humans we all have special skills, and i've never thought that every person should be able to do or solve every kind of thing or problem...(not freaking out about it would be nice, though)...that's the benefit of having relationships, family, and friends...in a group, there is bound to be a person for every job, and a job for every person...
and that's why i've never really put much stock in i.q. tests and the like...because i think that a measure of your i.q. is just that...a measure, an interpretation...it's not the whole picture or even part of it...because i know people with very high i.q.'s who can't spell or remember their phone numbers or bake a cake or conduct relationships or play at the park...(come to think of it, i know people with questionable i.q.'s who can't do many of those things, either!)...
it can be a matter of personal goals, choice, or the luck of the draw that ultimately determines the measure of our intelligence...it's when we start worrying about what we don't have, what can't be measured perhaps, that it starts getting wonky...
so while i'm curious about how i performed on certain areas of the test, i'm not really interested in their interpretation of the results...because regardless of what a challenging test would yield me in terms of an *intelligence quotient*, i already know i'm smart...
smart enough to bring the duke along on road trips and keep the lord of the ring close at hand during halloween...
x.
oh, and a very happy birthday to mother lord of the ring...may the road rise up to meet you and the wind always be at your back...and may the water commission pull their heads out of their asses right in time for your birthday...lovelovelove from all of us here at the big red house...
but i can't tell you my score...not because i'm keeping it a secret, but because it was one of those tests they administer on-line and when you want your results they make you send in your e-mail and all sorts of other private information to get them...
i don't like that kinda thing so i opted out...
and i wonder if i don't like it better this way?...having completed the test but not knowing the score...because although i know i possess some amount of intelligence, i am kind of concerned about knowing exactly how much...or how little!...
the test was difficult...but i felt i did a good job in that i answered every question and there was only one i was unsure of...
well, on page one...
page two was a whole page of those spatial type questions...like they want you to choose the one that best continues the sequence...
i can rarely see why the sequence they give you matches in the first place!...let alone continue it!...maybe on one or two, the really easy ones...but damn, these were hard!...
i know i'm not spatially aware, but i really really tried to see the pattern...any kind of connection...it was like being lost in denver at three in the morning...the flattest place with seemingly NO landmarks and could we get a street or freeway sign over here!...just ONE!...c'mon, throw me a bone!...(it's been nearly ten years and i still have issues with my one trip to denver)...
so i was trying to see the patterns, something, anything, before i started guessing...i couldn't...
so i did what any intelligent person would do, i got help...i know i know it's a *test*, but it was supposed to be for *fun*...but it wasn't fun...and i felt that the test didn't keep up it's end of the bargain, so i called in the duke...
now the duke, like his father, is a very spatially aware individual...he could help me...and, i reasoned, it wouldn't really be cheating as he is my own flesh and blood...and therefore, just an extention of me...
poor kid, i hope he never reads this...
anyhow, to make a long story short, he took a crack at it, but didn't really understand what the sequences were either...it didn't help that i attempted to solicit his help right in the middle of his watching magic school bus, all the while wingman kept on yelling "hey, dude" over and over and over just because he was wearing sunglasses...
so, that was a bust...i spent a bit more time and realized the answer to one of them, and had to kinda guess (i thought i might just maybe kinda know) at the other three...
so i guess i am a bit upset i didn't get my score...simply to see the ones i missed...
but it's not going to change me...
i'm still going to have that spatial relationship problem...it prevents me from packing the car for trips in the most efficient manner...or being able to cut and paste properly when working on a word document...or heaven forbid being able to do much of anything on the computer except type...
and i can't read a map, or remember where individual countries are...sure, point a to point b is a piece of cake...but deviate from that and i'm a goner...
and the duke?...he can read a map like a champ...he can look at an atlas, globe, road map and see it in a way i just can't...once he figured out how long it would take him to travel the length of brazil non-stop...
where is brazil?...
he's always been like that...i am remembering when the duke was small, and we had just gotten him a wooden train track in a figure eight pattern...sucker took me six months to figure out to where i didn't have to spend an hour studying the box and swearing...i kid you not!...i was so frustrated every time...
and the duke at three years old figured it out before i did...it took him no time at all...i think he just asked me to help him put it together because it was so funny to see me get so mad...
and i'm also remembering that i'd feel so guilty i got so mad that i'd usually compensate in the form of an extra treat or half hour of television...
no need to test that kid...
and last halloween, the duke wanted native american costumes for he and wingman...we found a great pattern, fabric, ribbon, the whole nine yards (give or take a yard...tee hee)...i spent days sewing and they turned out fabulously if i do say so myself...BUT, in the beginning, when i first opened the pattern i was near tears...literally...i couldn't understand a thing...
sure, i knew enough to know the sizes i needed, and how much fabric, but the actual pattern?...(and have you ever actually opened a pattern?...it EXPLODES!)...forget that i was sitting in a sea of it in my dining room, even when i did manage to smooth it out a bit, it might as well have been written in aramaic...it was a disaster...i had to call a friend's mother whom i knew to be a wonderful seamstress, get some pointers, then give those pointers to the lord of the ring...
who then cut out BOTH sizes from ONE pattern like he'd been hanging around the sewing store his whole life!...he saw the pattern and didn't cry, just figured it out and started cutting...he was able to *see* how the pattern went, and how out of one pattern you really could cut out two VERY different sizes...
(poor guy, he was sweating cutting out the pattern, though...not because he didn't know what he was doing, but because i was hovering over him just waiting for him to *ruin* the $15 pattern i couldn't replace...four days before halloween)
so working together, the lord of the ring and i were able to get the costumes done...and while i'd like to have been able to not freak at the sight of the pattern and be able to cut it out myself, i am grateful i have help when i need it...
as humans we all have special skills, and i've never thought that every person should be able to do or solve every kind of thing or problem...(not freaking out about it would be nice, though)...that's the benefit of having relationships, family, and friends...in a group, there is bound to be a person for every job, and a job for every person...
and that's why i've never really put much stock in i.q. tests and the like...because i think that a measure of your i.q. is just that...a measure, an interpretation...it's not the whole picture or even part of it...because i know people with very high i.q.'s who can't spell or remember their phone numbers or bake a cake or conduct relationships or play at the park...(come to think of it, i know people with questionable i.q.'s who can't do many of those things, either!)...
it can be a matter of personal goals, choice, or the luck of the draw that ultimately determines the measure of our intelligence...it's when we start worrying about what we don't have, what can't be measured perhaps, that it starts getting wonky...
so while i'm curious about how i performed on certain areas of the test, i'm not really interested in their interpretation of the results...because regardless of what a challenging test would yield me in terms of an *intelligence quotient*, i already know i'm smart...
smart enough to bring the duke along on road trips and keep the lord of the ring close at hand during halloween...
x.
oh, and a very happy birthday to mother lord of the ring...may the road rise up to meet you and the wind always be at your back...and may the water commission pull their heads out of their asses right in time for your birthday...lovelovelove from all of us here at the big red house...
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
my "X"dream makeover...
i have assembled a dream team of *experts* to give me a makeover...really a life makeover...a tweaking and reshaping of certain areas that give me trouble...make me better, hipper, smarter, happier...the difference in this makeover is that the *experts* have to come a live with me forever...because really, anyone can be made over for the day, or even the week...
but what about the rest of the month, the year, my LIFE!...who can keep up that kind of momentum!...
no, this makeover requires the continued and dedicated presence of the following team of experts...
*first up we have to go with dr. phil in the area of self motivation...sure he's annoying, yeah he's pompous, but i love him!...i need him to kick me in the ass at least once a day...get me motivated...because as i like to say, what would dr. phil say?...he'd say
"you need to get real with your life!...what is it that you want?...you need to ask yourself that question, and you need to give yourself an answer...you owe it to yourself to be honest...and if you can't do that, if you can't do that then you're living half a life...the wrong half..."
yup, that's gonna get me right out of bed!...i'm gonna get real with my life, i'd say!...i'm up i'm up!...
i just hope dr. phil made coffee...
*next off we have the queer eye for the straight guy crew...okay, i'm not a straight guy, but i'm about as knowledgeable as one when it comes to the following subjects...
fashion
personal grooming
i really really need carson kressley to go through my *wardrobe*...as much for the sight gags and laughs as for a final kick in the pants to get rid of the collection of bandanas i have...i cannot even imagine the horribly mean things he'd say about my fashion choices, but i'd be laughing so hard i don't think it would matter...
"all these bandanas and stretchy pants?...your wardrobe is like the love child of keith richards and a curves gym..."
and my hair!...kyan for certain can do something with my hair...he'd probably break it to me gently that it indeed is not 1979, and my hair has got to go...i'd tell him, but i'm growing it out!...and he'd have some fabulous solution to the problem...
i'd probably even get to go to a salon or even a spa!...oh, but leave the house?!?...really actually go down the driveway in a car and physically leave?...is that even possible?...just imagine...i guess i could get dr. phil to watch the kids...
*up now we have kevin calabro, announcer for the seattle supersonics...he gives the best play by play of any sportscaster i have ever heard...he has such a repertoire, and he's funny...no one is more clever or funny than he is announcing a game...
i could go about my day, and there he would be...making my life seem more exciting and interesting than it possibly has the capacity to be...announcing all my daily tasks, peppering his banter with clever phrases that showcase my talents, and cheering me on!...
and, the beauty is, the inner dialogue and narration i have going about my life can now stop...not only is it boring, it's weird, and with someone else doing it for me, it will free up so much mental space!...think of what i can accomplish!...well, at least in my mind...
*the car talk guys come next...they will serve as my daily phone call from someone who cares...not only are they funny as hell, they seem to really care about the condition of peoples cars...which i could exploit and turn into them caring about not only my car but *me* as well...and they know a LOT!...who knows what i can get them to care about!...
"you know, i have to say that if you actually worked out in the work out pants that you bought, you might not have to wear them for regular pants in the first place"
"although it pains me to do so, i have to agree with my brother on this one"
-insert fabulous and rich and comforting laughter here-
"it was good talking to you today...take care"
"oh, and don't drive like my brother!"
"yeah, and don't drive like my brother!"
-insert more fabulous and rich and comforting laughter here...oh, and the banjos-
*by now, i'm exhausted by my fabulous and interesting life...time to relax...for this, we come to phil liggett, long time announcer of the tour de france...if you have not heard this guy's voice, you have to check it out...it's like a warm bath...or a drink...or both...
so phil would come by and i'd fix him a drink and we'd just chat...it doesn't matter about what...although i have a sneaking suspicion bike racing and lance armstrong would come up...if i could hear him say in person "u.s. postal service" just once...
of course it's probably right about this time the other phil, dr. phil, would come up and ask me if this is what i want?...to be drinking in the middle of the afternoon with some old british guy?...is this my *intention* for my life?...did i ask the question, did i give myself an answer?...am i getting *real* with myself?...
maybe, maybe not...but i'll tell you what, dr. phil, i am getting *real*ly annoyed with you...
damn dr. phil!...i'd have to have the queer eye guys tie him up and send him to the car talk uncles in boston...they've got to know a guy who can take care of him...
but then who would watch the kids?...
sigh, there goes my trip to the spa...
x.
but what about the rest of the month, the year, my LIFE!...who can keep up that kind of momentum!...
no, this makeover requires the continued and dedicated presence of the following team of experts...
*first up we have to go with dr. phil in the area of self motivation...sure he's annoying, yeah he's pompous, but i love him!...i need him to kick me in the ass at least once a day...get me motivated...because as i like to say, what would dr. phil say?...he'd say
"you need to get real with your life!...what is it that you want?...you need to ask yourself that question, and you need to give yourself an answer...you owe it to yourself to be honest...and if you can't do that, if you can't do that then you're living half a life...the wrong half..."
yup, that's gonna get me right out of bed!...i'm gonna get real with my life, i'd say!...i'm up i'm up!...
i just hope dr. phil made coffee...
*next off we have the queer eye for the straight guy crew...okay, i'm not a straight guy, but i'm about as knowledgeable as one when it comes to the following subjects...
fashion
personal grooming
i really really need carson kressley to go through my *wardrobe*...as much for the sight gags and laughs as for a final kick in the pants to get rid of the collection of bandanas i have...i cannot even imagine the horribly mean things he'd say about my fashion choices, but i'd be laughing so hard i don't think it would matter...
"all these bandanas and stretchy pants?...your wardrobe is like the love child of keith richards and a curves gym..."
and my hair!...kyan for certain can do something with my hair...he'd probably break it to me gently that it indeed is not 1979, and my hair has got to go...i'd tell him, but i'm growing it out!...and he'd have some fabulous solution to the problem...
i'd probably even get to go to a salon or even a spa!...oh, but leave the house?!?...really actually go down the driveway in a car and physically leave?...is that even possible?...just imagine...i guess i could get dr. phil to watch the kids...
*up now we have kevin calabro, announcer for the seattle supersonics...he gives the best play by play of any sportscaster i have ever heard...he has such a repertoire, and he's funny...no one is more clever or funny than he is announcing a game...
i could go about my day, and there he would be...making my life seem more exciting and interesting than it possibly has the capacity to be...announcing all my daily tasks, peppering his banter with clever phrases that showcase my talents, and cheering me on!...
and, the beauty is, the inner dialogue and narration i have going about my life can now stop...not only is it boring, it's weird, and with someone else doing it for me, it will free up so much mental space!...think of what i can accomplish!...well, at least in my mind...
*the car talk guys come next...they will serve as my daily phone call from someone who cares...not only are they funny as hell, they seem to really care about the condition of peoples cars...which i could exploit and turn into them caring about not only my car but *me* as well...and they know a LOT!...who knows what i can get them to care about!...
"you know, i have to say that if you actually worked out in the work out pants that you bought, you might not have to wear them for regular pants in the first place"
"although it pains me to do so, i have to agree with my brother on this one"
-insert fabulous and rich and comforting laughter here-
"it was good talking to you today...take care"
"oh, and don't drive like my brother!"
"yeah, and don't drive like my brother!"
-insert more fabulous and rich and comforting laughter here...oh, and the banjos-
*by now, i'm exhausted by my fabulous and interesting life...time to relax...for this, we come to phil liggett, long time announcer of the tour de france...if you have not heard this guy's voice, you have to check it out...it's like a warm bath...or a drink...or both...
so phil would come by and i'd fix him a drink and we'd just chat...it doesn't matter about what...although i have a sneaking suspicion bike racing and lance armstrong would come up...if i could hear him say in person "u.s. postal service" just once...
of course it's probably right about this time the other phil, dr. phil, would come up and ask me if this is what i want?...to be drinking in the middle of the afternoon with some old british guy?...is this my *intention* for my life?...did i ask the question, did i give myself an answer?...am i getting *real* with myself?...
maybe, maybe not...but i'll tell you what, dr. phil, i am getting *real*ly annoyed with you...
damn dr. phil!...i'd have to have the queer eye guys tie him up and send him to the car talk uncles in boston...they've got to know a guy who can take care of him...
but then who would watch the kids?...
sigh, there goes my trip to the spa...
x.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
a peek into the lives of silly mortals...
i am a shopping cart voyeur...it doesn't matter where...the drugstore, supermarket, nursery...i want to know what everyone else is buying and then of course i feel compelled to pass judgment on the items i see...compelled...i can't help it, well, i really haven't tried...
so, in an attempt to somewhat even the score, i shall give you a peek into the shopping i did yesterday at target and the supermarket...
now, target is an interesting place in that you can get so many different items there it's very easy to be distracted...i have literally gone in with a list, and come out with as many things that were not on the list, and missing a few items that were...and i'm um, how do you say *frugal* (read cheap) so if i get sucked in i can only imagine what it does for others...
so, i went to target for the following items:
capri style workout pants (bought a pair on sale on saturday, decided to get another)
facial cleanser
diapers
swiffer cleaner pads
okay, this is a short list for target...only because i had done the usual *big* shop on saturday
so i go to get the pants...which are more for just wearing than actual working out...they are very comfortable, stretchy, with a drawstring waist...they are very forgiving pants...it is not lost on me that if i actually worked out in them, i may not need to wear them for regular pants...
anyway, they did not have my size left...well, they did, only in a really horrid baby blue...the babiest of blues, no thinks...BUT, they did have shorts made by the same people and also on sale...now, i am not about to wear workout shorts around like i wear workout pants, like to the store or in general public...BUT, i got them because i need shorts to wear around the house and to the beach...and they have a drawstring waist...again, the irony is not lost on me...
okay, so i head to the next area of target i need and get distracted by the boys clothing section...the boys don't need a thing, but i thought they might have little boy swim trunks on sale, and wingman could use a pair...so i look and they do...camouflaged with neon green frogs carrying some sort of stick like object in their, hands? paws?, what do frogs carry things around with?...
no thanks...
so i keep going and briefly consider a horribly ugly and impractical rug for the bathroom because it's on sale and will somewhat cover the horribly ugly and worn out linoleum that presently resides in the bathroom...
i come to my senses and move on...
then i see a sign for 50% off...head over and discover some outdoor and picnic items on sale...discover they are all in the shape of vegetables, the colors all just a little *too country-fied*...so i move on to the next isle that is all 50% off...this aisle is all summer stuff...their whole line of summer items!...all 50% off?
now wait a minute?...is summer over?...if you go in to target apparently it is...i mean i can see putting all the fourth of july stuff on sale, but the entire summer stock?...
i get so confused by this i wander into the candle aisle by mistake...
blech...okay, some of the candles smell all right...but c'mon!...i have smelled an actual cool breeze, and the candle they have labeled as "cool breeze" is nowhere close to that!...
i leave the candle aisle and head to the aisle with the facial cleansers...i know, why not just use soap!...or say soap!...quit saying facial cleanser!...but have to say facial cleanser because i wrote down facial cleanser and because it's a specific item...and besides i can't use soap on my face...if i did, my skin would shrink and fall off of my face...
so on my way to the facial cleansers, which by the way, are NOT in the aisle marked "facial care" ????, i am now down an aisle that seems to be dedicated to delicate hair removal, indoor tanning products, and those "feminine sprays" that i never have figured out...
do they not warn people of this!...i mean the aisle is marked "personal care" but what does that mean?...and i don't like aisles like this, they are just stocked too full with *intimate items*...it's like being in a public restroom without doors on the stalls...
but, of course, i am oddly sucked in...
so i don't understand how you can pump liquidy mousse stuff out of what appears to be a whipped cream-like can, smear it on your legs, and call it a tan?...how could you possibly get it even?...and why would you want to in the first place?...
and then there is this thing...i have seen it advertised on t.v. in some sort of soft porn/fetish type commercial...it's a "bladeless razor"...huh?...and the package says that it is a "bladeless razor" AND ALSO SAYS "does not contain a razor"...???
if they think their customers are idiots, why even try to introduce the very idea of a "bladeless razor"?...
apparently, you apply the cream, again out of some whipped cream lookin' can, and wait like 5 or 6 minutes BUT NO MORE THAN EIGHT MINUTES and do it in an empty bathtub or shower SO IT DOESN'T SPILL OR DRIP ONTO FABRIC ITEMS OR FURNITURE!!! the can warns, and then scrape it off with this pink scraper thing that looks oddly like a playdough tool...okay, so what is this all about?...and exactly what happens after eight minutes?...and what's it gonna do to my fabric items?...if it can't drip onto my fabric items, why would i want it on my skin?...sounds a little too risky, and yet to see the commercial you'd think it was no big deal..'cuz those two are just rolling all over the house with this stuff...snuggling and giggling it up like someone just took viagra...
apparently they didn't read the can...and if someone just took viagra, they might have trouble making that eight minute cut-off...
in addition to that they have a whole series of hair removal products that don't include the razor-like non-razor playdough tool, but do advertise that they are "touchless"...what?...why would you need "touchless"?...they apparently are applied by rolling on...but all i can think is that it reminds me of all those "touchless" car washes you see down in southern california (which i never understood either)...the kind with all the dark swarthy men waiting to towel dry your vehicle when it comes out...
uh, no thanks...
by now i am worn out...but luckily i am right next to the diaper aisle...only to find out that the diapers wingman can't live without (don't get me started) HAVE CHANGED THEIR DESIGN AND CHANGED THE CHARACTER THEY PUT ON THE ACTUAL DIAPER!...this is just too too much...wingman is very attached, and with me trying to gently nudge him to potty training this could just set him back!...
this is the deal...he has to use disposables because he is so prone to rash...and the disposables that have worked best for us both in size and price just happen to have barney on them...while he only has a very passing interest in the actual barney, he LOVES these diapers...they have five different scenes of barney doing various things...flying to the moon, going to the beach, etc...did i mention he LOVES these diapers?...
so a week or so ago i was on the phone and got off...wingman wanted to know who i had been talking to...
and then it just popped out of my mouth...i don't know what possessed me but i said
"barney called...he wants his diapers back"
wingman just looked at me and said
"no"
so it's become kinda a joke, but it morphed a bit...into what i thought was working in my favor when i tried to convince him that barney thought he was SO big now he didn't need the diapers...and that barney could give them to some babies that did...
he wasn't buying it, and i basically let it go...
except now i see that they have taken barney OFF of the diapers and put another character ON...no more barney diapers...apparently he really did want them back...
just great...this is one of those moments when i really have to stop and wonder how long wingman will be on the therapist's couch for this particular parental mistake...
i grab the diapers anyway and move on...allllll the way across the store to the cleaning products to get swiffer floor pads...
by now i am grumpy and i still have to go to the grocery store...as i am grabbing the pads i see this confused man with a list, obviously not written by him, start to ask me a question...
oh, god...i am so beyond helping anyone...especially some confused man with a list not written by him...i could be here all day...
he starts to ask me his question and i swear i did a very un-neighborly thing and just ignored him...well, i didn't ignore him really, just gave him a very blank stare and moved on...i didn't even feel bad...well, a little, and hoped he wouldn't be in line behind me...
so i get in line and am almost to the front when i realize i have forgotten the facial cleanser...which is in an aisle in another part of the store...an aisle that is separate from the soap, and in fact farther away than the soap aisle...
sigh...me and my high falutin' needs...it's almost worth risking my face falling off from using the bar soap in my bathroom just so i don't have to venture back into the retail bowels of target...
i get to the aisle and after 15 minutes i choose the one i think will work the best...and it was so confusing because they all basically say the same thing, but in a different way...and it's been so long since i actually bought new facial cleanser, and they didn't have the kind i usually use, and all the packaging of some that seemed familiar has all changed...
sometimes i feel so out of step with *life* that it's like i've been frozen for years and everything's changed in the meantime...
i finally make it to the register and don't realize until i am land-locked by the two carts behind me that the guy in front of me is the guy with the list...
so of course i try to look invisible while also trying to peer into his cart...he had the following items
a bottle of midol (for pms)
a clorox ready mop
with a box of swiffer wet jet pads to go with the clorox ready mop
i should have helped him...now it's too late...it's obvious some female type person sent him to the store, with a list no less, and it's obvious he largely failed...and at the wrong time of the month to boot...
and there he was just innocently paying for his purchases...no clue as to what awaited him...poor guy, he doesn't stand a chance...
i would go through my grocery list and subsequent trip to the store, but i don't think either of us have that kind of time...or energy...
suffice it to say, i was armed with a diverse and well planned menu for the week accompanied by an extensive and well written list, was shopping without kids, and yet, somehow, we are still managing to have chicken three times this week...
x.
so, in an attempt to somewhat even the score, i shall give you a peek into the shopping i did yesterday at target and the supermarket...
now, target is an interesting place in that you can get so many different items there it's very easy to be distracted...i have literally gone in with a list, and come out with as many things that were not on the list, and missing a few items that were...and i'm um, how do you say *frugal* (read cheap) so if i get sucked in i can only imagine what it does for others...
so, i went to target for the following items:
capri style workout pants (bought a pair on sale on saturday, decided to get another)
facial cleanser
diapers
swiffer cleaner pads
okay, this is a short list for target...only because i had done the usual *big* shop on saturday
so i go to get the pants...which are more for just wearing than actual working out...they are very comfortable, stretchy, with a drawstring waist...they are very forgiving pants...it is not lost on me that if i actually worked out in them, i may not need to wear them for regular pants...
anyway, they did not have my size left...well, they did, only in a really horrid baby blue...the babiest of blues, no thinks...BUT, they did have shorts made by the same people and also on sale...now, i am not about to wear workout shorts around like i wear workout pants, like to the store or in general public...BUT, i got them because i need shorts to wear around the house and to the beach...and they have a drawstring waist...again, the irony is not lost on me...
okay, so i head to the next area of target i need and get distracted by the boys clothing section...the boys don't need a thing, but i thought they might have little boy swim trunks on sale, and wingman could use a pair...so i look and they do...camouflaged with neon green frogs carrying some sort of stick like object in their, hands? paws?, what do frogs carry things around with?...
no thanks...
so i keep going and briefly consider a horribly ugly and impractical rug for the bathroom because it's on sale and will somewhat cover the horribly ugly and worn out linoleum that presently resides in the bathroom...
i come to my senses and move on...
then i see a sign for 50% off...head over and discover some outdoor and picnic items on sale...discover they are all in the shape of vegetables, the colors all just a little *too country-fied*...so i move on to the next isle that is all 50% off...this aisle is all summer stuff...their whole line of summer items!...all 50% off?
now wait a minute?...is summer over?...if you go in to target apparently it is...i mean i can see putting all the fourth of july stuff on sale, but the entire summer stock?...
i get so confused by this i wander into the candle aisle by mistake...
blech...okay, some of the candles smell all right...but c'mon!...i have smelled an actual cool breeze, and the candle they have labeled as "cool breeze" is nowhere close to that!...
i leave the candle aisle and head to the aisle with the facial cleansers...i know, why not just use soap!...or say soap!...quit saying facial cleanser!...but have to say facial cleanser because i wrote down facial cleanser and because it's a specific item...and besides i can't use soap on my face...if i did, my skin would shrink and fall off of my face...
so on my way to the facial cleansers, which by the way, are NOT in the aisle marked "facial care" ????, i am now down an aisle that seems to be dedicated to delicate hair removal, indoor tanning products, and those "feminine sprays" that i never have figured out...
do they not warn people of this!...i mean the aisle is marked "personal care" but what does that mean?...and i don't like aisles like this, they are just stocked too full with *intimate items*...it's like being in a public restroom without doors on the stalls...
but, of course, i am oddly sucked in...
so i don't understand how you can pump liquidy mousse stuff out of what appears to be a whipped cream-like can, smear it on your legs, and call it a tan?...how could you possibly get it even?...and why would you want to in the first place?...
and then there is this thing...i have seen it advertised on t.v. in some sort of soft porn/fetish type commercial...it's a "bladeless razor"...huh?...and the package says that it is a "bladeless razor" AND ALSO SAYS "does not contain a razor"...???
if they think their customers are idiots, why even try to introduce the very idea of a "bladeless razor"?...
apparently, you apply the cream, again out of some whipped cream lookin' can, and wait like 5 or 6 minutes BUT NO MORE THAN EIGHT MINUTES and do it in an empty bathtub or shower SO IT DOESN'T SPILL OR DRIP ONTO FABRIC ITEMS OR FURNITURE!!! the can warns, and then scrape it off with this pink scraper thing that looks oddly like a playdough tool...okay, so what is this all about?...and exactly what happens after eight minutes?...and what's it gonna do to my fabric items?...if it can't drip onto my fabric items, why would i want it on my skin?...sounds a little too risky, and yet to see the commercial you'd think it was no big deal..'cuz those two are just rolling all over the house with this stuff...snuggling and giggling it up like someone just took viagra...
apparently they didn't read the can...and if someone just took viagra, they might have trouble making that eight minute cut-off...
in addition to that they have a whole series of hair removal products that don't include the razor-like non-razor playdough tool, but do advertise that they are "touchless"...what?...why would you need "touchless"?...they apparently are applied by rolling on...but all i can think is that it reminds me of all those "touchless" car washes you see down in southern california (which i never understood either)...the kind with all the dark swarthy men waiting to towel dry your vehicle when it comes out...
uh, no thanks...
by now i am worn out...but luckily i am right next to the diaper aisle...only to find out that the diapers wingman can't live without (don't get me started) HAVE CHANGED THEIR DESIGN AND CHANGED THE CHARACTER THEY PUT ON THE ACTUAL DIAPER!...this is just too too much...wingman is very attached, and with me trying to gently nudge him to potty training this could just set him back!...
this is the deal...he has to use disposables because he is so prone to rash...and the disposables that have worked best for us both in size and price just happen to have barney on them...while he only has a very passing interest in the actual barney, he LOVES these diapers...they have five different scenes of barney doing various things...flying to the moon, going to the beach, etc...did i mention he LOVES these diapers?...
so a week or so ago i was on the phone and got off...wingman wanted to know who i had been talking to...
and then it just popped out of my mouth...i don't know what possessed me but i said
"barney called...he wants his diapers back"
wingman just looked at me and said
"no"
so it's become kinda a joke, but it morphed a bit...into what i thought was working in my favor when i tried to convince him that barney thought he was SO big now he didn't need the diapers...and that barney could give them to some babies that did...
he wasn't buying it, and i basically let it go...
except now i see that they have taken barney OFF of the diapers and put another character ON...no more barney diapers...apparently he really did want them back...
just great...this is one of those moments when i really have to stop and wonder how long wingman will be on the therapist's couch for this particular parental mistake...
i grab the diapers anyway and move on...allllll the way across the store to the cleaning products to get swiffer floor pads...
by now i am grumpy and i still have to go to the grocery store...as i am grabbing the pads i see this confused man with a list, obviously not written by him, start to ask me a question...
oh, god...i am so beyond helping anyone...especially some confused man with a list not written by him...i could be here all day...
he starts to ask me his question and i swear i did a very un-neighborly thing and just ignored him...well, i didn't ignore him really, just gave him a very blank stare and moved on...i didn't even feel bad...well, a little, and hoped he wouldn't be in line behind me...
so i get in line and am almost to the front when i realize i have forgotten the facial cleanser...which is in an aisle in another part of the store...an aisle that is separate from the soap, and in fact farther away than the soap aisle...
sigh...me and my high falutin' needs...it's almost worth risking my face falling off from using the bar soap in my bathroom just so i don't have to venture back into the retail bowels of target...
i get to the aisle and after 15 minutes i choose the one i think will work the best...and it was so confusing because they all basically say the same thing, but in a different way...and it's been so long since i actually bought new facial cleanser, and they didn't have the kind i usually use, and all the packaging of some that seemed familiar has all changed...
sometimes i feel so out of step with *life* that it's like i've been frozen for years and everything's changed in the meantime...
i finally make it to the register and don't realize until i am land-locked by the two carts behind me that the guy in front of me is the guy with the list...
so of course i try to look invisible while also trying to peer into his cart...he had the following items
a bottle of midol (for pms)
a clorox ready mop
with a box of swiffer wet jet pads to go with the clorox ready mop
i should have helped him...now it's too late...it's obvious some female type person sent him to the store, with a list no less, and it's obvious he largely failed...and at the wrong time of the month to boot...
and there he was just innocently paying for his purchases...no clue as to what awaited him...poor guy, he doesn't stand a chance...
i would go through my grocery list and subsequent trip to the store, but i don't think either of us have that kind of time...or energy...
suffice it to say, i was armed with a diverse and well planned menu for the week accompanied by an extensive and well written list, was shopping without kids, and yet, somehow, we are still managing to have chicken three times this week...
x.
Monday, July 05, 2004
iiiii love a parade!...
so we went to the fourth of july parade yesterday...
and while being somewhat lame, there were a few highlights that made the day completely worthwhile...
there were more than a few political groups in the parade...and bush/cheney supporters were plentiful...one such group included two boys, newly into their adolescence, marching with what looked to be family and holding the bush/cheney sign...well, not so much holding as barely grasping and in fact letting part of the sign trail on the ground...they were not smiling, looked supremely bored, and were generally not "there"...then i noticed that the taller of the two boys was wearing a wristband with an anarchy symbol on it...now, i don't have any way of knowing if he knew what the symbol stood for, but what a picture!...
america's future...sullen, bored, disrespectful...supporting anarchy and marching for bush...
oh, "the champions for christ" was another good one...apparently, it was some sort of teen group...talk about looking sullen and bored, those bush kids had nothing on this group...their sign was ripped and looked oddly wet...they shuffled along, looking sort of bewildered and every couple of paces some of them would give a kind of smile and a half wave...mostly they just shuffled and looked like they'd like to be anywhere but in this parade...except the girl who was smiling and waving at everyone saying "god bless you", but was really saying "look at me!"...and the girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen wearing a pair of men's boxers rolled down to show the tattoo right above her butt...
"the champions for christ" might want to consider a revisement of their recruitment policy...or a name change...
of course, this being a parade, there was royalty in the form of local "miss hoohaw" and her attendants...complete with gowns and sashes and glitter...(and why is it that the "miss hoohaw" has an actual gown, tasteful, maybe even boring, and the farther you go down in the rank of the court, the gowns get less "tasteful"?...well, and there's just "less" gown in general..."hey maybe i didn't win, but look at my boobs!")
coming in on a fleet of miatas and waving *the wave* (they must practice)...they were young, and beautiful, and *winners*...two things ran through my mind
their parents must be so proud
this might be as good as it gets
it wasn't until a few floats later when the harley club came by that it really clicked for me, that maybe it got better after being "miss hoohaw"...or at least stayed relatively the same...because right there on the back of a few of the bikes were young women not but a few years older than "miss hoohaw" and her attendants...
and it got me thinking that it would be a natural progression to go from being "miss hoohaw" to being the "girl on the back of the bike"...because being "miss hoohaw" might really just have been as good as it got...and how better to recapture attention, even for just the 15 minutes of parade route fame, than to ditch the gown for a barely there tank top and tight jeans, and put your body on the back of a harley...
it's no different than being "miss hoohaw"...just a different outfit and a different vehicle...and maybe just a little more fun...
because everyone knows a harley is way cooler than a miata...
which brings me to the "red hat ladies"...spunky older women each wearing some sort of red hat and purple clothing...
there are "red hat" clubs all over...it's a social outing kinda club, and they've been around for years...and it's not just for older women, but the gist of the club seems to appeal mostly to older women...this particular club in the parade was a "red hat club" but called themselves "the hoohaw red hot mamas"...and from the looks of it, none of them was a day younger than seventy...
so these "red hot mamas", some riding and some walking with a red pt cruiser as their float, were shimmying through the parade...they were proud and confident and sassy women...they were getting lots of cheers and just eating up the attention...
then the second red car came by...a classic 50's red car with a big glittery sign on it that said "queen mother"...and inside indeed was the queen mother if i ever saw one...she was wearing a red hat and a huge fluffy lavender gown and gloves...and she was waving *the wave*...and couldn't have been a day over a hundred...
and then it hit me...
these "red hot mamas" were just the "miss hoohaws" and the "girls on the back of the bikes" all grown up...it was the same parade formula, the clothes, check!, the vehicles, check!, the smiles!, check!...only fifty years older...right down to *the wave*...
apparently these women figured out that they didn't have to take what they got...that it hadn't been "as good as it gets"...that if they just kept going, they'd still get it...the attention, the public notice, the chance to shine once more on the top of a float...regardless of age...
the maiden, the mother, the crone...
the sacred female trinity was alive and well in the hoohaw fourth of july parade...well, maybe not the "mother"...come to think of it i didn't see but a few mothers...most floats were older people, kids, and men...
i guess it's not that surprising really...the mothers were probably there, just behind the scenes at the beginning of the parade fixing costumes and giving last minute kisses and warnings...then following the parade taking pictures, making sure things are going smoothly...then waiting at the end of the route with snacks and drinks and hugs...she's there, we just don't see her...
it's probably the same reason why we never really see mothers in photos during their children's childhood...sure when they're babies, proud and glowing...then when they are older at graduations and weddings, proud and glowing...but during the actual growing up process the mom isn't "there"...she's the one taking the pictures, or shying away...it may be she doesn't want evidence of the weight she's gained, or that she feels the picture is more about the kids than her, or she's just too busy doing something else...
because when you've got kids who has time to ride on a float?
the mother is not in the parade because she's running the parade...while we see the maidens and the crones glittering atop the floats, the teenagers shuffling along in adolescent bewilderment, the kids grabbing for candy, and the men driving the miatas and dressing up like vikings (do not get me started on that lot of idiots), the mothers are making sure every one has what they need, and waiting at the end for everyone to get done...
well, i think "the mother" needs to be better represented...especially this mother...so i'm going have to my own parade...with NO vikings, NO scantily clad teenagers, and NO miatas!...
because while i'm too old to be "miss hoohaw" and am too much woman to be "girl on the back of the bike", i do own a tiara and i think i'd better figure out a way to be "queen mother" before i'm too damned old to enjoy it!!!...
and if no one is gonna put me on top of a float, i'm gonna just have to put myself there...the sillymortalmama parade all about me!
i'd better practice my wave...
x.
oh, and i'm not the only family member to be in a parade...remember i had mentioned the duke's long standing desire to be in a parade?...well, in a few weeks he will be part of a real parade taking place in a town near ours...he's very excited, i'll keep you posted...
and while being somewhat lame, there were a few highlights that made the day completely worthwhile...
there were more than a few political groups in the parade...and bush/cheney supporters were plentiful...one such group included two boys, newly into their adolescence, marching with what looked to be family and holding the bush/cheney sign...well, not so much holding as barely grasping and in fact letting part of the sign trail on the ground...they were not smiling, looked supremely bored, and were generally not "there"...then i noticed that the taller of the two boys was wearing a wristband with an anarchy symbol on it...now, i don't have any way of knowing if he knew what the symbol stood for, but what a picture!...
america's future...sullen, bored, disrespectful...supporting anarchy and marching for bush...
oh, "the champions for christ" was another good one...apparently, it was some sort of teen group...talk about looking sullen and bored, those bush kids had nothing on this group...their sign was ripped and looked oddly wet...they shuffled along, looking sort of bewildered and every couple of paces some of them would give a kind of smile and a half wave...mostly they just shuffled and looked like they'd like to be anywhere but in this parade...except the girl who was smiling and waving at everyone saying "god bless you", but was really saying "look at me!"...and the girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen wearing a pair of men's boxers rolled down to show the tattoo right above her butt...
"the champions for christ" might want to consider a revisement of their recruitment policy...or a name change...
of course, this being a parade, there was royalty in the form of local "miss hoohaw" and her attendants...complete with gowns and sashes and glitter...(and why is it that the "miss hoohaw" has an actual gown, tasteful, maybe even boring, and the farther you go down in the rank of the court, the gowns get less "tasteful"?...well, and there's just "less" gown in general..."hey maybe i didn't win, but look at my boobs!")
coming in on a fleet of miatas and waving *the wave* (they must practice)...they were young, and beautiful, and *winners*...two things ran through my mind
their parents must be so proud
this might be as good as it gets
it wasn't until a few floats later when the harley club came by that it really clicked for me, that maybe it got better after being "miss hoohaw"...or at least stayed relatively the same...because right there on the back of a few of the bikes were young women not but a few years older than "miss hoohaw" and her attendants...
and it got me thinking that it would be a natural progression to go from being "miss hoohaw" to being the "girl on the back of the bike"...because being "miss hoohaw" might really just have been as good as it got...and how better to recapture attention, even for just the 15 minutes of parade route fame, than to ditch the gown for a barely there tank top and tight jeans, and put your body on the back of a harley...
it's no different than being "miss hoohaw"...just a different outfit and a different vehicle...and maybe just a little more fun...
because everyone knows a harley is way cooler than a miata...
which brings me to the "red hat ladies"...spunky older women each wearing some sort of red hat and purple clothing...
there are "red hat" clubs all over...it's a social outing kinda club, and they've been around for years...and it's not just for older women, but the gist of the club seems to appeal mostly to older women...this particular club in the parade was a "red hat club" but called themselves "the hoohaw red hot mamas"...and from the looks of it, none of them was a day younger than seventy...
so these "red hot mamas", some riding and some walking with a red pt cruiser as their float, were shimmying through the parade...they were proud and confident and sassy women...they were getting lots of cheers and just eating up the attention...
then the second red car came by...a classic 50's red car with a big glittery sign on it that said "queen mother"...and inside indeed was the queen mother if i ever saw one...she was wearing a red hat and a huge fluffy lavender gown and gloves...and she was waving *the wave*...and couldn't have been a day over a hundred...
and then it hit me...
these "red hot mamas" were just the "miss hoohaws" and the "girls on the back of the bikes" all grown up...it was the same parade formula, the clothes, check!, the vehicles, check!, the smiles!, check!...only fifty years older...right down to *the wave*...
apparently these women figured out that they didn't have to take what they got...that it hadn't been "as good as it gets"...that if they just kept going, they'd still get it...the attention, the public notice, the chance to shine once more on the top of a float...regardless of age...
the maiden, the mother, the crone...
the sacred female trinity was alive and well in the hoohaw fourth of july parade...well, maybe not the "mother"...come to think of it i didn't see but a few mothers...most floats were older people, kids, and men...
i guess it's not that surprising really...the mothers were probably there, just behind the scenes at the beginning of the parade fixing costumes and giving last minute kisses and warnings...then following the parade taking pictures, making sure things are going smoothly...then waiting at the end of the route with snacks and drinks and hugs...she's there, we just don't see her...
it's probably the same reason why we never really see mothers in photos during their children's childhood...sure when they're babies, proud and glowing...then when they are older at graduations and weddings, proud and glowing...but during the actual growing up process the mom isn't "there"...she's the one taking the pictures, or shying away...it may be she doesn't want evidence of the weight she's gained, or that she feels the picture is more about the kids than her, or she's just too busy doing something else...
because when you've got kids who has time to ride on a float?
the mother is not in the parade because she's running the parade...while we see the maidens and the crones glittering atop the floats, the teenagers shuffling along in adolescent bewilderment, the kids grabbing for candy, and the men driving the miatas and dressing up like vikings (do not get me started on that lot of idiots), the mothers are making sure every one has what they need, and waiting at the end for everyone to get done...
well, i think "the mother" needs to be better represented...especially this mother...so i'm going have to my own parade...with NO vikings, NO scantily clad teenagers, and NO miatas!...
because while i'm too old to be "miss hoohaw" and am too much woman to be "girl on the back of the bike", i do own a tiara and i think i'd better figure out a way to be "queen mother" before i'm too damned old to enjoy it!!!...
and if no one is gonna put me on top of a float, i'm gonna just have to put myself there...the sillymortalmama parade all about me!
i'd better practice my wave...
x.
oh, and i'm not the only family member to be in a parade...remember i had mentioned the duke's long standing desire to be in a parade?...well, in a few weeks he will be part of a real parade taking place in a town near ours...he's very excited, i'll keep you posted...
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