When we last left off, poor Licorice was trying to adjust to being used as a chew toy by Zoey. Truly, the dogs had very nearly reached an amicable understanding---and here by "amicable" we mean that Zoey learned to knock it off whenever Licorice snarled at her---so of course we packed everything up and moved on to the in-laws. Zoey is now a distant memory, so far as Licorice is concerned. (She's in for a rude awakening next week when we head back to my parents' house. Ha!) The good news is that here at Nearly Nickless' house there is no exuberant puppy trying to eat Licorice's head. The bad...
Honestly, I feel like that one single viewing of "The Virgin Diaries" has scarred me forever. I cannot get the awkward images out of my head. I just feel so sorry for those people. So what do I do when I can't stop thinking about something? I write about it some more! But don't worry---fewer cringe-worthy moments in my Off Our Chest post, as today I'm really just thinking about first kisses, and I promise that my first kiss was WAY less horrifying than the one they showed on TLC. Come on over and join the discussion, won't you?
So the kids went off on their adventure and then Otto and I loaded up the car while Licorice nervously paced my office. By the time we scooped up Her Furriness to put her in the travel crate, she was so relieved to not be left behind that she seemed to totally forget that she hates riding in the car. We drove and drove and drove and drove, and we listened to a lot of "Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me" and ate a lot of snacks, and when we pulled up at my folks' house the next day, Licorice was all, "I LOVE ROAD TRIPS!" I am certain this had nothing to do with the potato chips I kept poking into the...
As if blogging my day-to-day maladjustedness isn't enough (huh, my spellcheck is insisting that's not a world, but spellcheck, I can assure you that I am living proof that it CERTAINLY IS), I really have to give a big ol' shout-out to Off Our Chests for giving me the weekly opportunity to dredge up the many embarrassments from my past, as well. Because, really, what's the point of being a completely mortified dork time and time again unless you can share it with the whole Internet? Exactly! So my offering today is all about how I once ended up unintentionally flashing my entire class....
December is, traditionally, the month of the year wherein I am most likely to wish to die in a fire. It's not that I don't love the holiday fa la la la blah blah or whatever, it's that: 1) Work is crazy. (See also: the glamorous life of a freelancer, no such thing as paid vacation.) 2) The children are crazy. (Monkey is crazy because everyone else is crazy; Chickadee is crazy because traditional public schooling mandates that December is a DANDY time to assign projects in every single class, plus have finals, plus do standardized testing, plus start doing competitions for several activities...
It's Tuesday, and that means that today I'm over at Off Our Chests. Partially inspired by Otto's birthday (and subsequent match-stuck-in-the-cake), I'm thinking about wishing, today. And wondering if I'm weird. I once had a friend who tried to convince me that if I didn't have an entire list of things I wanted (not necessarily THINGS, but experiences, goals, etc.) it meant I was somehow not as spiritually enlightened and forward-thinking as she and her actively-working-on-their-lists cohorts were. It was a sign of stagnation and thinking small, she said. (We're not friends anymore....
Oh, man. The way kids make you reflect on your own childhood and your own foibles and various experiences and thoughts was not something I was prepared for when I started this gig. So much of what we're working on with both kids, right now, has to do with being proactive rather than reactive. And I was being a Good Mom And Role Model about it all until I realized that my little apples didn't fall far from the tree. (I hate it when that happens....) So I'm over at Off Our Chest today talking about my claws, both physical and metaphorical. I'm still working on it.
All (long) weekend long, I listened to folks on Twitter and Facebook bemoaning the school vacation and lack of structure and general driving-batshit-ness of having the kids home for this break. And lo, I creased my brow with wonder and consternation, because I was quite ENJOYING having my offspring home and not having to drag anyone out of bed and getting to work quietly in the mornings without packing lunches or breaking up squabbles. Plus, I was kind of enjoying my children. I know, it's crazy, right? They're older now and not quite so needy and OH HA HA HA, THOSE OF YOU WHO GET SICK OF...
I just told Otto I feel like I landed in the middle of some sort of bizarro WWF match for Thanksgiving, today. I woke up with one---just one!---swollen knuckle on my right hand, like maybe I'd smashed someone with a right hook in my sleep and landed it wrong, and as it's my middle finger, my dexterity is extremely compromised. Then while getting the stuffing ready I stupidly dropped a mess of onions into my butter-filled skillet and promptly burned my left wrist in three places where the butter leapt out to protest. A minute ago I tried to swirl my hot-water-and-yeast mixture that will be...
