Love knows what you mean
When I was pregnant with Chickadee, I knew she was a girl. I told her father I knew she was a girl, and he would always tell me that I had a 50/50 shot at being correct, and after she was confirmed to be a girl via ultrasound he quipped that if I gave birth to four children and correctly predicted the gender of all four, THEN he would believe that I “knew.” (I did know, though. I knew with Monkey, too.)
Meanwhile, once she was confirmed to have two X chromosomes, I sank into a quiet and private dread.
It’s not that I don’t like girls, you understand. It’s that I WAS ONCE A GIRL and I both doubted my ability to build a good mother-daughter relationship with one and also I am intimately familiar with the UTTER CRAYZEE that is the adolescent female. The bottom line is that I was terrified.
(With good reason. Ahem.) read more…
Yep, that was better
So I went back to my new chiropractor, Paul Bunyan, today. I willed myself not to laugh. I coached myself through the entire morning, then the drive over there, and while I was on the table. “Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh,” I chanted, silently. Just relax! Breathe! NO LAUGHING!
I didn’t bray hysterically, this time. I was really proud of myself, in fact. I set my mind on not acting like a dork and for once, it actually worked. And my neck is feeling better and better. I stood up afterward, thanked Dr. Paul, went out and made my next appointment, said goodbye to all involved, and then went on out to my car.
I did all of the usual things; put the key in the ignition, turned, buckled my seatbelt, checked the mirrors, put the car into reverse. And then I put the car back in park, unbuckled, and went back inside.
To get my glasses.
Which I had somehow not noticed I wasn’t wearing, when I left.
First the laughing, now this. You can’t tell me those people aren’t making fun of me after I leave.
Like before, but totally different
So, as I may have mentioned, I’ve been having a little trouble with my neck. On the one hand, it’s handy for sniping at the children. “STOP BEING A PAIN IN MY NECK!” I can grouse, pointing at my poor neck, ensuring their therapist can buy a boat as well as a summer home. Sadly, I have only availed myself of that option in my mind, because I fear to do otherwise would be poor parenting.
Also, who has time to say such things when the little darlings are busy scrubbing the floor with toothbrushes and need whipping?
But, yeah, it’s been kind of a drag. I don’t know what I did, either. I mean, yes, I have a pre-existing condition from having had whiplash years ago, but I was totally fine. And then I woke up one day in pain. Very weird.
And chiropractic care had helped once before, so I figured I’d do it again. read more…
Let’s make a deal
I am a deal-maker. I don’t know why. It’s just something I’m prone to, and always have been—I can’t even blame it on the kids.
Life is one big if-then statement, in my world.
And sometimes it makes sense, I guess. Some things do logically follow from others, or at least relate to others. But some things aren’t even slightly related until I decide that they should be. Other things are related but acted upon in a less-than-logical manner.
I may need some sort of support group. Convoluted Conclusions Anonymous, or something.
Clearly I need to demonstrate with some examples, because all of these theoreticals are making my head hurt. read more…
Flowers! Rainbows! Sunshine!
I’m about to go wake up my kids. It’s 11:00.
It’s 11:00 and my children are still asleep.
My children were returned to me late last night and are still asleep at 11:00, which I am sure isn’t anything I can draw any conclusions about, because it’s probably just a coincidence, and also because when I don’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all. Right? Right.
Oh, look! A rainbow, over there. Shiny!
Love sprouts
It’s nearly time for me to begin my planting, again, which means that soon you can all (once again) tell me about the HORRORS OF MINT. (Noooooo! Not the mint! ANYTHING BUT MIIIIIIIIINT!)
Y’all have no idea how much I’m looking forward to it.
In the meantime, we are walking around the deck and our property and figuring out what will go where; what worked, last year, and what we want to try this year that we didn’t before. Now that Chickadee has become a zucchinitarian, for example, I feel it’s my duty to grow some of those. (Yes, I know they’re almost as pervasive as mint. Go ahead and yell.) And while the parsley certainly grew with a mighty fervor, when it came time to make salsa I realized that OOPS, cilantro really would’ve made more sense… especially seeing as how no one in the house actually likes parsley. So. read more…
Things to do over Spring Break
Otto is on break this week. The louse. He hasn’t actually SAID, “Nyah nyah, you’re working and I’m not!” but I strongly suspect he is thinking it, occasionally.
Mostly he just wanders into the office when I’m playing Scrabble on Facebook and comments on how UTTERLY SWAMPED I must be. Because he’s a wiseass. And nobody likes a wiseass! Except for me.
And it’s not that Otto isn’t terribly busy when he has time off of work. Because he is. He’s doing all sorts of manly things around the house, and he thinks I’m mocking him when I’m totally not. Like when he installed the trailer hitch on his truck, all by himself. I told him I was feeling very attracted to his burly usefulness. And he told me to shut up. BUT I WAS SERIOUS. read more…
Feeling Lucky, jeans?
Why, yes. I am here to talk about my adventures in jeans shopping, again.
PLEASE TRY TO CONTAIN YOUR EXCITEMENT.
Once upon a time, long ago and far away, I bought a pair of Lucky brand jeans for a paltry $10. And lo, they are the most wondrous pair of jeans in the history of the universe, for they are soft and fit well through a variety of size changes; they are the only jeans I’ve ever owned which not only fit me in the waist AND in the hips BUT also have a little give in the thigh area, thereby accommodating my “problem area” (yes, they are not so much thighs as they are ASS OVERFLOW: You’re welcome!) through a bit of weight fluctuation.
I lurve them. And I thought they were discontinued. And I wept. read more…
Somewhat adrift
I don’t know if you noticed that we changed the clocks, this weekend? Or that it is now currently whatthehello’clock?
One hour. I feel like such a wimp, unable to reconcile my brain to a difference of a single hour. But I’m definitely struggling with it, on account of how I’m a delicate flower and everything.
I had big plans, this weekend, to get a bunch of stuff done around the house. BIG PLANS, I tell you! Mostly I sat on the couch. I read some books. I watched some sub-standard television. I ate some cake. It’s really like I am the very poster child for sloth, some days. And I feel like I’d be proud of that, maybe, if I had a little more energy…. read more…
Instead of Love Thursday, Cake Friday
Whoops! Was yesterday Love Thursday and I missed it? It’s not because I was without love, I assure you. I was OVERFLOWING with love, yesterday! Inbetween the curse words!
Um. Sometimes I curse when I’m especially overflowing with love. Or especially overflowing with cake batter. Yes.
A few days back Otto told me he was having a colleague come to town for the week, and then he laid out their schedule of events and asked if it would be okay with me if we had him come to dinner on Thursday night. And we’re having kind of a busy week, here, so I may have looked… less than thrilled… and he hurried on to say that he would TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING. So I said “Sure! Let’s have him over to dinner!”
And then I lost my mind. read more…