Archive | May, 2005

Send ice cream

by Mir on May 31, 2005 in Health is overrated

I was once in a particularly campy version of “Anything Goes,” put on by a local community theatre group out in the boonies, where–I swear on my children’s heads–I had to drive past a field full of sheep to get to rehearsal. These sheep were part of a research program at the local university. As part of whatever experiment was being visited upon these poor animals, it was necessary to demarcate them in a way more readily visible than conventional ear tagging. And so, I didn’t just drive past any field of sheep on my way to rehearsal every night. I drove past a field full of pink and blue spray-painted sheep each night.

(The painted sheep are not at all germaine to the tale at hand. I’m just incapable of passing up an opportunity to share about them. Because, sheep! Spray painted! In a field! It’s better than cow tipping, because you don’t even have to DO anything for it to be funny!)

Anyway. “Anything Goes.” It’s a Cole Porter musical; it involves a lot of singing and tap-dancing and tangled love interests and minor intrigue. I don’t remember a whole lot about it other than that it was a very amateur production, I had to pretend I could tap dance, and that I played a character named Virtue and had exactly one line.

Even at my tender young age at the time (16 or so, I believe), I appreciated the irony of the main character and her groupies. Reno Sweeney is an evangelist turned nightclub entertainer and is flocked (constantly) by her “angels” Chastity, Charity, Purity, and Virtue. These gals have a deep love both for Jesus and showing some skin. Nothing could’ve amused me more than to take this role of good/bad girl with such a meaning-laden name and play up the ridiculousness of it.

You’d think that–seventeen years later and maybe even smarter–I would just KNOW BETTER than to try to seriously undertake anything with VIRTUE in the description. I mean… I’m a little old for tap dancing, now. Without a healthy dose of parody, virtue and I aren’t really on speaking terms.
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In honor of those (toys) that died

by Mir on May 30, 2005 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony

I try to give my children age-appropriate instruction in the lessons I think they need to learn. So today, on Memorial Day, I figured it was time for them to start learning some hard lessons about sacrifice, liberty, and the responsibility inherent in being a citizen.

Unfortunately, they don’t live in a democracy. They live in a relatively benevolent dictatorship, but, whatever. Details.

So this morning, I donned my welding helmet and latex gloves, grabbed the biggest trash barrel we have, and went into Chickadee’s room. It’s not like I hadn’t TOLD them what was going to happen. But I really wished I’d had protective earwear, as well.
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And on the seventh day, she pondered

by Mir on May 29, 2005 in What do I do all day?

It’s been a busy weekend. Busy busy busy. That’s right. So very busy! Now, I don’t mind busy when I feel like I’m getting things done. You work, you’re rewarded. That works well all around, yes? But being busy rushing here and there and feeling like I still have as much to do as when I started… well….

That sucks.

So! Ever one to seek the bright side (shut up), I’ve decided this weekend’s progress will be measured in lessons learned, because it sure as heck can’t be declared a success based upon the state of my house or my to-do list. And really, that’s so pedestrian, anyway. A clean house, or tasks completed. Pffft. Anybody can have those. I’m doing the difficult intellectual work here, people, so that everyone can benefit from my wisdom.

You can thank me later. Preferrably in cash.
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Friday Flashbacks: 911

by Mir on May 27, 2005 in Health is overrated, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

I used to do a regular Friday segment where folks could ask me questions and I did various combinations of truth and fiction in the answers. Then everyone and their cousin started doing it and I had been asked what my favorite book was four or five times and so I stopped doing it.

But I kinda dug having a Friday “thing.” So here’s my stab at a new one. This will be the first in a series, unless, of course, I get bored or die or have something else really important happen next Friday that pre-empts the second installment.

Anyway. Friday Flashbacks! See how there’s alliteration? Two Fs in a row just can’t be wrong, people.

Today’s theme is inspired by yesterday’s post. All that reflecting upon the miracle and wonderfulness of my children brought to mind many, many things. And I suppose it was only natural that I would find myself pondering various fond memories of medical emergencies I’ve endured with the kids.
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The “good stuff”

by Mir on May 25, 2005 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Shiz is wondering why it is that parents tell the childless about how hard it is to have kids, and how potty training sucks and children like to put things up their noses and by the way let me tell you about the time my kid spiked a fever of 112 and we were at the Emergency Room for a week while they sliced the kid into 5,239 little pieces and cooled them in ice cube trays and then reassembled the cooled-down child using several gallons of Demabond but I’m afraid she’ll never play the violin again.

I’m not sure that I agree with her assessment, by the way. But certainly, yes, we parents do tend to tell the stories of the Time The Diaper Exploded or the What’s That Smell story or the perennial favorite, You Don’t Want To Have Kids Because That’s The End Of Life As You Know It, Honey story.

Or, if you’re me, there are a lot of The Time I Almost Strangled The Children But Didn’t Because I’m A Little Too Busy To Go To Jail Right Now stories.

Shiz wants more of the “good stuff.” And you know what? So do I. Right now, I think just about everyone could use a little more good stuff.

Please don protective gear. Heavy sap ahead!
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Money is the root of all… irony

by Mir on May 24, 2005 in It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

Recently I sat down to do my monthly bills, and made a shocking discovery.

People really like to ask me for money. People I’ve never given money to? Want my money. People I give money to on a regular basis? Want more money. People I sometimes give money to? Want me to give them some money RIGHT NOW regardless of whether it seems to me that now is a good time. People I’ve entered into contract with for set amounts of money have just RANDOMLY decided they need MORE money… it’s CRAZINESS.

I mean, is it MY fault that property taxes went up or that oil was expensive this year? No, it is not. This is NO WAY to do business, I tell you.

But my favorite kind of bill BY FAR is any bill that comes from a doctor’s office. I take them out of the envelope and pop some popcorn and sit down with a heiroglyphics translation calculator and just have a very entertaining time while ripping my hair out.
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Everywhere I turn

by Mir on May 23, 2005 in Growing

The tissue fairy has been hard at work here.

Little white tufts adorn my house. Here, on the kitchen table. There, on the couch. One on the bathroom counter, and another atop the hamper.

One laying in the upstairs hallway, a single corner fluttering slightly every time I walk past it.

I hope that every dollar my son spends in his life gives him as much sprawling joy as the dollar he gave me for that stupid box of tissues.
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Wherever you find it

by Mir on May 22, 2005 in Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Today was not a good day.

There is a phenomenon that occurs in families with multiple children when one of those children has behavioral issues. Mine is not the first where this has happened and it will not be the last. It should be of some comfort to me, this. But it’s not. Mostly I want to fling myself spread-eagle to the ground and scream “NOT FAIR NOT FAIR NOT FAIR!!” until I’m worn out from beating my fists and kicking my feet.

Here is what happens: One child starts to have problems, and you are (naturally) gripped with anxiety and worry. The struggle begins to get these problems figured out, under control; managed. There are ups and there are downs, but after a while, you–the parent–feel that you’re getting the hang of things. And then, of course, the other shoe drops: the other child, the child who used to be your saving grace in his easygoing happiness, realizes that his sibling is getting an awful lot of attention what with the head spinning around 360 degrees and vomiting pea soup and such.

Welcome to my personal circle of hell. I’ve subtitled it “The Place Where You Slowly Simmer In The Juices Of Your Own Maternal Guilt And Have Absolutely Nothing To Show For It.”
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Runs with scissors

by Mir on May 21, 2005 in What do I do all day?

Today, it was supposed to rain, but the sun was actually out this morning. And even though I’d been dragging around sick for a couple of days, I could not waste the opportunity to mow the lawn. The lawn was in need. The lawn was also kind enough to spit up a couple of ticks onto my children earlier this week, so it was my opinion that the grass needed to be just a wee bit shorter. Like maybe, just a couple of millimeters long.

I headed into the garage to unearth my mower for its seasonal debut. It took me a while to get it out onto the driveway, on account of the last time I cleaned out the garage was… let me see… oh yes, that’s right: never. So I got the mower out, filled the gas tank, checked the oil, and started it up.

Er, pulled the cord.

Five hundred times.

And then my arm fell off and landed on the driveway with an audible “squish.”
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Tidings of great joy!

by Mir on May 20, 2005 in Detritus

Good news!

Fortified by the view of GAZILLIONS of those TINY swarming ants all over my garage door as I pulled in, I have located the missing ant traps. I carefully broke them apart and placed them equidistant around my home (read: I wrestled with the plastic disks until I ripped several of them in half, then flung them into every corner).

Then–just to be safe–I took out all the trash, cleaned the kitchen, and bleached the children.

I’d invite you in to admire everything, but I’ve decided not to open the door again until winter.

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