"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...
Allow me to summarize the previous post, which you were all kind enough to indulge me in: I'm feeling needy because someone was MEAN to me and it wasn't FAIR and I'm MAD and SAD (and I do not like it, Sam I Am) and I am also quite NEUROTIC and I think perhaps I have ISSUES and did I mention I'M NOT DEALING WELL? There. If you hadn't read the post, before, now you can skip it. That was much more concise. So what happened after that? I got down to the business of keepin' on keepin' on. Last time I checked, I didn't really have a choice. So! Onward! Sort of. I sent up a flare and grabbed...
I woke up this morning to the drone of pounding rain. Thanks to all the snow we had this winter, and the severity of this storm system, they're predicting New England will be experiencing some of the worst flooding it's had in years. Then again, "a whole heckuva lotta rain" or even "moderate flooding" probably doesn't make for a very sensational news story. Regardless; I am not worried about washing away. The way I see it (and how exactly is that, you ask? Why, through my half-empty glass, of course!), that would be sort of calm and peaceful. And entirely unlike the day I have planned. Last...
There's no good excuse for how grumpy I'm feeling about this, but by way of explanation: My feet are sticky. This is enough to annoy a normal person, and drive to the brink of madness a person who spent the previous night bemoaning the lack of time and cleanliness in her surroundings. (Oh! Pick me! Pick ME!) Not one, but TWO cups of milk hit the deck in my kitchen today. One per child. One this morning, as I gently coaxed (read: hollered) for the kids to please getyourstuffonrightnow because fortheloveofgodhowisitpossibletobesoslow, and one this evening, roughly .3264 seconds after I said,...
I had an entire post planned about The Great Pop Tart Debacle. It happened this morning and it was... majestic. In the worst possible (yet quite amusing) way. I wanted to share it and the utter JOY that is the thought process of a child that renders one foil packet SUPERIOR to another--identical!--foil packet by virtue of... ummm... well, I hadn't really worked that part out. But there was a fabulous insight in there, I'm sure. But screw that. No quirky uplifting breakfast stories, today. Nope. Warm-n-fuzzy exasperation at 7:15 can turn to a not-altogether-unexpected but still...
Fly first class. Why? I have no idea. Perhaps the fine airline folks are confused. I know I was, when I realized my boarding pass put me in the very first row. My confusion quickly dissipated as I stretched out my legs and enjoyed my pre-flight beverage in an actual glass. I deserve this as much as the businessman next to me, I reasoned. Maybe moreso. Read a schlock novel. Why? Because that's what you do on an airplane. Work, schmerk. For being stuffed into a gigantic flying canister of circulating cold germs for several hours, you deserve a book that you wouldn't be caught dead reading,...
(Or, "How am I Stupid? Let Me Count the Ways.") 1) Get up at 5:30 in the morning so as to be at work nice and early, and therefore able to leave a little early. Still forget a bunch of stuff. 2) Arrive at work and realize you're about to leave town with $11 in your wallet. 3) Run out and get money before lunch (later, notice gigantic installation of your bank a block before the airport). 4) Leave work in plenty of time to get to airport. Pat self on back, mentally, as you drive past the turn for long-term parking. Ack. 5) Loop back to long-term parking, noting which lots are open. Head to an...
(A handy guide for the travel-challenged single working mother.) So! You say you'd like to take a brief recreational trip? How lovely! What a wonderful idea! You deserve a little getaway. That's right; go have some fun! Just a few minor things before you go.... One month before departure: Shop online for tickets. Compare prices. Weep. Make a deal with God that you promise to be especially worthy if he will just allow you to do this one thing FOR JUST YOU AND NO ONE ELSE without too much angst. Find acceptable fare. Book it on your credit card. Hope paycheck comes before credit card bill....
I can roughly categorize the stages of my life according to my level of hormonal dysfunction. Now, I know that some women believe any sort of mood disturbance attributed to hormone fluctuations somehow sets back the women's movement or something, and/or that those claims are about on par with sightings of the Loch Ness Monster. Those women are robots. [Exhibit A: My mother-ex-law, who would cheerfully chirp at my endometriosis-riddled self curled up in agony during abdomen-rending cramps that she'd never had a cramp in her! entire! life! because she's so active and if only I were to release...
