January 31, 2006 | My name is Grumplestiltskin

I’m breaking it down by the numbers, folks, and there is no redeeming bottom line (yet) that I can see. I mean, I’m looking for it. I am. But mostly all I’m finding is that I’m crabby. Which is not, strictly speaking, a discovery.

On the one hand, everyone keeps assuring me that I probably don’t have cancer. Which is great! I mean, I’m PROBABLY not going to get hit by a bus today, either. Or come down with a flesh-eating virus. Just knowing that these things are IMPROBABLE is enough to keep me from worrying about them. And so it ought to be with this, except that the whole slightly-puzzled expression that tends to come with this assurance is throwing me off my game just a tad.

The surgeon I saw this morning was a pip, though. After she’d finished her poking and prodding and hrming and drawing pictures (another one that draws cartoon boobs! perky! excellent!) she said, “Well, I don’t think you’re dying.” And that was… probably reassuring.
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January 30, 2006 | I'm dating the television

First things first: I am continuing my deep and abiding love for Tae Kwon Do. Not only did Chickadee crane around and flap her belt at me in excitement today (”LOOK MAMA,” she mouthed, “ALL MY STRIPES!”), but I arrived for pick-up in time to watch the class go through a short routine where there was punching and positioning and HI-YAing and it was really quite impressive.

And not just because MY wonderful and talented child (who is, by the way, one of the youngest in the class) was one of maybe only 5 (in 30 kids!) who had successfully passed both memorization quizzes and earned maximum stripes. (Aren’t you glad I’m not one of those moms who brags on her kids?)

Anyway. Likely I cannot, you know, form a fulfilling relationship with Tae Kwon Do wherein it brings me snacks while I’m watching television. For that, I may need one of those, um, you know. Man-things. A guy. But you KNOW how I feel about the whole guy thing. So I thought I’d get some perspective from a friend of mine who is perhaps not as jaded and cynical and I am.
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January 29, 2006 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

I had about a million things I needed to do this weekend.

Fortunately, the kids were spending the weekend with their father, which theoretically freed me up to get lots of things done.

Unfortunately, I’m fighting a whopper of a cold.

Fortunately, I didn’t let that stop me from beginning my training on Saturday morning. Said training being heading out BEFORE DAWN like CRAZY PEOPLE to see how far we could walk before our noses succumbed to frostbite and fell off. (Answer: Farther than we’d thought.)

Unfortunately, I seem to be sicker today, after having done that. Go figure.

All of which is to say, I’m not feeling particularly productive or bright these last few days.
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January 28, 2006 | It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

Sometimes you have to look a bit deeper to really understand a word’s true meaning in context. In this case, I don’t so much mean “fond” as “horrified,” but it’s an irony thing, you see. We writers do that, sometimes. We say one thing in order to imply another. It’s crazy! What’s next? I don’t know! Perhaps utter chaos!

A couple of women whom I admire greatly have recently bared their sordid pasts just to allow us a few moments of hilarity. First Jenn got out her big mall hair and hoop earrings, then Holly showed off her purple Disney glasses and Coolio hairdo. It’s a thing of beauty when us gals can share this way, don’t you think?

Well, I started digging around. You may wish to avert your eyes.
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January 27, 2006 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

(Special! Bonus! Friday! Mini-entry!)

Me: Hey buddy, I hear you got a time out at recess.
Monkey: … yeah…
Me: Wanna tell me what happened?
Monkey: No thank you!
Me: Yeah, um, it’s not really optional.
Chickadee: Yeah, Monkey, that was a returgical question.
Me: Rhetorical. And not exactly.
Chickadee: That’s what I SAID. *huffy sigh*
Me: Okay. Monkey? What happened?
Monkey: We were playing a GAME.
Me: And…?
Monkey: Miss Teacher thought I tackled C.
Me: Did you?
Monkey: No!
Me: Okay. Did C… fall down? And then maybe… you fell on top of him?
Monkey: It’s not like he was CRYING or anything.
Me: Oh, well then.

January 26, 2006 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

In case you haven’t noticed, The Sarcastic Journalist gave birth to a scrumptious little boy this week. I want to bury my nose in his little neck folds and breeeeeeathe for a while. Stop looking at me like that. Go tell her congratulations and pretend I don’t have a weird baby fetish.

My own children, well, they won’t do at all. They are big(ish) and no longer all that cute and they often SMELL and also they know how to irritate the living crap out of me. I’ve decided it’s time to institute some changes around here, for sanity’s sake.
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Forget talk; walk the walk!

I just got back from a meeting to discover that I have officially crested the $3,000 mark.

In case you’re interested, I’m currently in second place overall for funds raised for the Boston event.

Thank you all so much; it means more to me than I can say that the response has been so amazing.

January 25, 2006 | Health is overrated

Are we sick of talking about my breasts yet? It’s an epidemic, spreading like wildfire. My rack is the new bird flu. Seriously. My father called me on the phone this evening and we had an entire discussion about my boobs, including–as Dave Barry would say, I SWEAR I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP–his detailing for me a specialized kind of 3-D mammography machine that can perform tissue sampling without a doctor present.

Yes. A boob biopsy robot. Thanks, Dad! Guess who I’ll be calling tonight when I wake up screaming with nightmares about C-3PO coming at me with a hollow needle?

I would like one for the family room, I think, just to keep things festive around here. Unfortunately, they cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, so I will not be getting one. But I will be sure to tell the surgeon I’m seeing next week that MY DADDY SAID they should get me into one of those machines where you walk out 15 minutes later with a band-aid instead of getting knocked out and having day surgery.
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January 24, 2006 | Health is overrated

I’ll confess that I’m disappointed; this morning’s doctor’s appointment didn’t yield the acres of comedic material for which I’d hoped. Let’s blame this on my HMO. They are not, strictly speaking, responsible, but I blame them for so many other things, why not this as well? So yes, the HMO is not only responsible for the continued struggle to fill my prescriptions in spite of their sacred formulary (read: cheap medications they’ll consider covering), but somehow they took the funny right out of the exam room today.

Those bastards.

Oh, wait. There was that one thing.
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January 23, 2006 | Detritus

In the interest of full disclosure, there are some things which I believe need to be pointed out to you fine folks. I would hate for there to be any confusion about important issues.

At the time of this posting, I have raised $2,525 for the upcoming Susan G. Komen 3-Day in August–over half of my goal. This includes, I believe, an anonymous donation of $1,000. I am awed and humbled by everyone’s generosity. Special thanks to other walkers who’ve shared their stories in comments or emails; to say that today has been inspiring would be a gross understatement.

Julie takes issue with my post and has asked for a correction. Sadly, I must accede. It’s true. I fibbed. When I said that “I (gently) made fun of her very 80’s hairdo” I was hiding the truth. I mocked her mercilessly, for years. But now that she has cancer I just like to pretend I’m always nice to her. Sue me.
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