Tasty, tasty guilt
So, it was kind of a long week. And yesterday I had make-up lunch plans with a friend, because last week we’d had plans and then one of my children rudely spiked a fever and needed to stay home from school and I’d had to cancel. (GOD. Like that was more important than me going out to lunch, or something.)
Anyway, I felt bad for having canceled last week, so when we were getting organized and she suggested going to the restaurant where the owner backed into Otto’s car, I said sure.
On the one hand, Otto and I haven’t been there since that happened. Sort of a silent protest, if you will. On the other hand, CHEESE GRITS. Like, really good cheese grits. And Otto was out of town for the day, so I could basically sneak over there, eat delicious cheese grits, and he would never know, and so would not be able to accuse me of being more loyal to carby goodness than to him. read more…
Skate away skate away skate away
I’m the big meanie who insists on regular, early bedtimes, because SOME children I know tend to be EXTREMELY CRANKY when they don’t get enough sleep. And I find school mornings challenging enough without having to pry people out of bed while they complain that they’re far too tired to get up. It’s enough to get everyone to pack up their bags and remember their lunches and change their socks (don’t ask, seriously), so bedtime is sacred.
Except that the last couple of weeks have pretty much sucked mightily. Certain excretory substances we won’t discuss in polite company are hitting oscillating air dispersing devices as regards the fate of our school district, and this has resulted in some interesting repercussions even for RIGHT NOW (and by “interesting” I of course mean “suckass”), and then of course there is the small matter of lightning striking twice in the most unfair of ways, and trying to cope with my own feelings while helping the kids deal with theirs.
So last night we went to Skate Night. read more…
Clear-sighted
I took Monkey in for an eye exam yesterday, due to my lightning fast reaction time and the fact that I’ve been worried about his vision for a few months, now. (In my defense, we were also waiting on some changes to our health insurance coverage to kick in, plus the holiday travel kind of screwed up everything in the entire world.) (Yes, everything. That plant of yours that died? Totally the fault of our recent trip. I apologize.)
The optometrist was a kindly older gentleman who couldn’t have been a day over 95. I don’t really know what it is about optometry that makes a man keep working at it until he passes the triple digit mark, but it seems like all of the eye doctors we’ve seen in the last few years have been geriatric. Assumedly this means that it’s such a fulfilling career, they cannot stand to step down and miss out on all of that fast-paced, gripping “Do you prefer 1 or 2? A or B? 3 or 4?” excitement. Or maybe just that they have lousy 401k plans. Who knows.
Anyway, I had a feeling it was not going to go well when the doctor first came out to get him. read more…
Teach your children well
When I was growing up, I loved nothing so much as those cheesy after-school specials which always ended with a Very Important Lesson of one kind or another. Sometimes the lesson was that you should stay away from drugs, because drugs kill. Other times the lesson was that running away from home doesn’t solve anything. And often, the lesson was that if it’s hot enough out to fry an egg on the sidewalk, it’s also hot enough to fry your dog’s brain.
Oh, wait. That was just a commercial. Whatever. You get the idea.
Similarly, whenever I did something boneheaded as a child, I always looked forward to the moment when my parents would sit me down, afterward, and say, “Now what did you LEARN from this experience so that it won’t happen again?” Except that that’s a total lie; I merely wanted to be able to on the other side of that conversation, with my own kids, as some sort of karmic entitlement after suffering through multiple painful illustrations of my own stupidity. read more…
In which getting fit is overrated
It seems like just last week when I was singing the praises of my new Wii Fit, probably because that was just last week. I swear this is a product custom-made for sedentary hermits if ever there was one. I continue to be amazed at how perfect it is for someone like me.
The Fit commercial should go like this: “Are you approaching middle age? Does your job leave you sitting at the computer for most of the day? Do you hate to exercise? Are you not particularly fond of other people? Does leaving the house during the day seem overrated? Are you concerned that soon your butt might, in fact, eclipse Atlanta? THEN THE WII FIT IS FOR YOU!”
I’m pretty sure if they’d run THAT commercial, I would’ve bought one a lot sooner. I’m just sayin’. Anyway, it’s a match made in heaven, me and my Wii Fit. Sort of. read more…
Love writes letters
Whoops! I really didn’t mean to leave a depressing post up here and then disappear, it’s just that I seem to have misplaced my Wednesday, somehow. Has anyone seen it? I’d sort of like it back. If it’s not too much trouble.
My week has largely been eaten up by one of the most terrifying beasts out there, one so huge, so imposing, that many dare not utter its name. I laugh in the face of danger, though (okay, who am I kidding—more like I yell in the face of danger), so I shall speak it loud and clear: We have been under attack from the dreaded Science Fair Project.
It was due today, and yes, OF COURSE, the assignment came home in November, and OF COURSE, it was not handled and completed in a timely manner. Because that would’ve made sense. And kept my head from exploding. And also I have no idea how to handle things like this, apparently, because I’m pretty sure the way my eye ends up twitching by deadline is NOT recommended by professionals. read more…
How to feel
I haven’t talked about Chickadee’s friend Nightingale this year, because somehow they’ve gone from being BFFs to just plain having a terrible time with each other. Glee at being reunited after a long, hard summer quickly turned into Chickadee coming home in a foul mood, sniping at everyone, and eventually dissolving into tears and relating some story that would involve Nightingale either taking something from her or demanding something, and then taunting her about it until Chickie tattled, at which point Nightingale would be furious with her.
I talked to her mom a couple of times, trying to get a feel for what might’ve changed. She was just as baffled as I was, and reported that Nightingale would often come home crying that Chickadee was mean to her. While I have no doubt that my darling daughter can give as good as she gets, the whole situation was just plain perplexing. It would get better for a while and then something would happen and Nightingale would stop speaking to Chickadee again. So I got to have my first Big Relationship Talk with my daughter. read more…
The Force is strong in you
Dear Monkey,
I have to tell you something. I have to tell you that I’m sorry; the timing of your birthday is less than ideal, for a number of reasons. Everyone is still away on vacation or just getting back and recovering. You often get gypped out of gifts by those who claim your Christmas present is also for your birthday. Some people just plain forget, in the hustle and bustle of the holiday season.
And then there’s me. All I want, come January, is to resume Life As Normal. The holidays have worn me out and I am craving a return to the mundane. I probably don’t greet the task of whipping up a cake… and then cupcakes for school… and then talking about party planning… with as much excitement as I should. It’s not that I’m not thrilled to celebrate you, it’s just that I’m tired.
But yesterday, none of that mattered. read more…
One order of Calm, coming up
Yesterday we drove home from New York. It’s a shorter drive than it was outbound, as going to Massachusetts requires both going further east and going through NYC in some way (we took the Bronx Expressway, which is always entertaining). But we did it in a single day, departing at about 6:40 in the morning and rolling into our driveway at 8:33 last night. That included three stops for gas/bathrooms/food, so I was pleased with the time we made. And only once did I have to order a child to lay down its head and take a nap before I would need to come back there and EAT IT, so, really, I call the drive a complete success.
I climbed into my own bed by about 9:05 last night, and promptly fell asleep and slept the sleep of the dead for twelve full hours. This morning I am a new woman. Or at least a much less cranky version of the old one.
This trip taught me a lot about my own internal tolerances and needs, and also gave me ample time to do some serious reflection on our priorities for 2009.
So I got up this morning and sat down at the computer and ordered a tub faucet for the master bathroom; we’re been “meaning to do it” ever since buying the house eighteen months ago, and then I saw how much tub faucets cost and came up with 100 excuses about why we didn’t need one. Well, now it’s done, and just thinking about how many nice, long soaks I’ll need to take to justify the cost has made me positively giddy.
2009: The Year of Calm. And pruney toes.
Love for the new year
We picked up the kids bright and early yesterday morning, and as we drove hundreds of miles through the snow with them quietly playing in the back seat, I felt better. I don’t do well with them away for more than a couple of days. I miss them.
After a couple of hours, Monkey stretched and let out an enormous yawn. “You okay, buddy?” I asked, catching him mid-flex as his chest strained against the seat belt. I reached back and rubbed his leg, as I said it.
“Look at my BIG BOOBIES!” he responded, finished stretching but still jutting his chest out, and laughing.
“You don’t HAVE boobies,” Chickadee said, not even bothering to look up from her book.
I turned to Otto, who was rolling his eyes, and grinned. “Isn’t it GREAT to have the kids back?” read more…