At dinner tonight the kids asked if I have any pictures of myself from when I was little. I was impressed by their maturity, you know, because there was a time not too long ago when both of them would've insisted I sprung from a pod as a full-grown mother, never having eaten marshmallow breakfast cereal or practiced kissing on my poster of Rick Springfield in a past life. I assured them that I did, and when I was done eating but they were still flicking rice at each other, I went and grabbed my baby book. My mother gave it to me a little while ago, and I knew there were a bunch of school...
Just in case you're wondering: If you wait until Easter Day to check the supermarket for chocolate bunnies in a moment of caving (because, after all, there will be Easter baskets at Daddy's this year, and you were FULLY PLANNING to skip the whole deal, but then a certain child with big hopeful eyes and a quivering lower lip informed you that SANTA comes to both houses, so SURELY the Easter Bunny will do the same!), you will find row upon row of empty shelves where the bunnies used to be. Also, if you were wondering: The only Easter candy left which is orthodontia-approved is then a 5-pound...
Pro: I'm not hungry, so I don't have to cook/eat! Con: The children still expect to be fed. Pro: Less laundry, because I've been wearing the same clothes for three days. Con: I probably don't smell very good. Pro: I'm able to sit up for ten or fifteen minutes at a time. Con: That's just enough time to obsess about all the work I'm not getting done. Pro: The spam I got about "doing it camel style" made me laugh and laugh. Con: Is there really such a thing as camel style? How does that... oh, nevermind. Time to go back to bed.
Once upon a time in a land not very far from here in a time more recent than you might think, there lived a damsel in distress. No, she wasn't locked in a tower or being held captive by a fire-breathing dragon or even being forced to clean houses in violation of her birthright. She wasn't wandering, lost, in the forest or turned into a ogre or trying to communicate after an evil sea witch had stolen her voice. She was just in the regular sort of distress. Oh, you know. The kids needed more (more time, more attention, more help) and work needed more and the house needed more and OH GOOD GOD,...
When I woke up this morning, I was planning little more than an ordinary day, albeit starting off with a coffee date with a friend I haven't seen in a long time. I didn't even have breakfast on the table when she'd called to cancel. (Damn those unpredictable children and their foolish illnesses when we have coffee to drink! Damn them to hell!) Oh, well. I'd just stay in and do my work. Then I checked my calendar and realized I had a mammogram appointment at lunchtime. Clearly I was in for a treat. This mammogram was actually a very special mammogram; after some calcifications were spotted...
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Barba: You must've been so very proud when your daughter Antonella was selected to be on season 6 of American Sellout Idol. Let's face it; she's beautiful, she's a pretty good singer, and now all the eyes of America are on her. How could you help but feel anything but pride? Even when she made the incredibly vacuous comment, upon hearing that she'd made the latest cut, that it was because "God loves good people" (that's funny, I didn't notice her taking a break to serve some Meals on Wheels, but maybe that part ended up on the cutting room floor), I'm sure you stood right...
I tasked the children's father with the annual Selecting Of The Valentines for the kids this year, in part because I hadn't gotten around to it and he had them with him this weekend, and in part because the entire exercise makes me want to shove sharp pencils into my eyeballs. When it's up to me, we go to the Dollar Store and have a choice of maybe six different kinds of cards. When the children whine that they want something that isn't there, I try to look sympathetic. Then I tell them to hurry up and pick because we have to go get groceries. The REAL stores have entire WALLS of valentines...
So, um, if your kids were grounded through Monday, and there was, say, a big Television Event happening tonight that you wanted to watch (that started before their bedtime) would it be poor parenting to suggest that everyone could watch some television together but then the grounding would be extended by one more day, afterwards? Does your answer change in light of the fact that the commercials were a major disappointment? How about if at one point your daughter claims to be JUST LIKE one of the players, and you enthusiastically agree, "Yes, you are EXACTLY like that gigantic man with biceps...
At least, it is according to thesaurus.com. And now that I know that, I can claim to be promiscuous for the first time in my life. (Welcome to Woulda Coulda Shoulda! Now with more slutty!) If I had a cohesive tale to tell you I would, because I'm an excellent sharer that way (perhaps it comes along with the promiscuity?), but the best I'm going to be able to muster right now is a few bits and pieces. This is my brain. This is stress. This is my brain on stress. Any questions? Not that there's a damn thing I'll do about it if you DO have questions, because today this is all I've got. * * * *...
