I am a person who is serious about promises. I don't make promises idly, and once I make them I do everything I can to keep them. Which is why this morning was such a disaster. When I break a promise, the kids know that Something Is Wrong. And yeah, Something IS Wrong, but this was my first slip with the kids in this particular episode, and I felt horrible about it. A promise is a promise, and I broke it, and there was nothing to do but apologize and wish I was a better, more together mother. And curse the &*#%@! ants, which aren't even ants, they're raisins, which probably wouldn't be...
Last year, I bought a cheap "canopy" from Big Lots to set up out on my deck, which had the annoying habit of heating up to approximately 3,492 degrees during the summer. I really wanted one of those little screen houses, but I couldn't swing it at the time. So I bought the cheapie thing that was hard to set up and just meant that now the mosquitoes could come munch on us in the shade. Wasps nested in the folds, and the thing started springing leaks the second time it rained. Still, I suppose it was better than nothing. This year, I was able to get something nicer, and this past weekend I...
It seems only fitting that while on this @&*$^! Virtue diet (Day 6! No refined sugar! Low carbs! No white flour! Feeling good! But still mourning chocolate!) I take a moment to reflect on some of the most notable food disasters in my memory. As before: Leave a comment with yours, or go wild with your whole own post and leave me a trackback. See, there's a method to my madness. Thinking about all of the disgusting foods I've ever encountered will drown out the siren song of the very last sleeve of Thin Mints that I found waaaaay in the back of the deep freeze. * Once upon a time when I...
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....
(How Vermont State Troopers Are Sadistic) It was a dark and stormy night.... Wait. No. Wrong story. It was a bright and beautiful morning (there we go)! We set out, coffee and maps on hand, ready to wend out way into Vermont. I have a very careful method of trip navigation, and it goes like this: I type some stuff into Mapquest, print out whatever it gives me, and then drop it into the lap of my travel companion. "There ya go! Let me know when to turn!" Of course, I often forget that Mapquest sometimes smokes crack. My first clue should've been the series of directions in the middle of the...
Two months ago my ex and I sat in a small office with a specialist who described to us in excrutiating detail what sort of testing she thought Chickadee needed, and why, and how long it would take. Oh, and how much it would cost. My ex put on his best I'm-a-6-figure-earning-indigent face and told the doctor that if the insurance wouldn't cover it, he couldn't afford it. I said I would cover it, but the damage had been done--the doctor subsequently refused to even schedule Chickadee's testing (despite the 3-month lag in getting an appointment) until we got the insurance approval. I considered...
I found myself in an email exchange, earlier today, wherein a faraway friend and I began planning a hypothetical movie date. Did we discuss which flick we were dying to see? Compare the relative merits of stadium seating vs. a more traditional moviehouse? Drool over our favorite actors/actresses? Go ahead and indulge our inner geeks to pick apart the mechanics of our favorite special effects? Nope. We mailed back and forth about the popcorn. And the Junior Mints, and Twizzlers, and I shared a charming tale from my youth involving those little wax bottles you chew up to get at the milliliter...
1/2 an umbrella. They say it's an entire umbrella, just really small; but I have my doubts. 1 nightgown. Perfectly acceptable. My children understand that sleep makes me happier than almost anything else. 1 unidentifiable gardening-type carrier... thing. Tags removed; mystifying. It has snaps in weird places. Is it meant to be worn? Hung? Attached... somewhere? No one seems to know. (The ex: "Well it's for your gardening, um, stuff. I think.") 1 card made at school where "Happy Mother's Day Mama" had been pencilled by a teacher, than traced over painstakingly with wobbly blue marker. 5...
"I don't want to belong to any club that would accept me as a member." --Groucho Marx When I miscarried (many years ago), I discovered the secret sisterhood of women who mourn for lost children. It seemed as though everyone had a story to share, and I was drawn close by those who understood. It was not a club to which I ever would've chosen to belong. But there was comfort in knowing I was not alone. It's a queer sisterhood, with bonds that transcend the progression and rituals of "normal" relationships. I have had occasion, over the years, to open my arms to others who are where I was, back...
