Alas, poor Robot; I broke him, Horatio
Despite your well-wishes for my new robot lover and I to live a long and dustbunny-free life together, ’twas not to be. After taking him apart and lovingly cleaning his brushes (“Ewwww… how did all of this CRAP get in here when the stupid thing only RAN for FIVE MINUTES??”) and swabbing his sensors (yeah, baby) and reading his troubleshooting guide, I came to an inescapable conclusion:
One of the wheels was kaput.
Oh, he had the cliff sensors and the whiskery wall sensor thingie and height control and happy brushes and all, but one of the wheels was so jammed up that it just. wouldn’t. turn. And I’m not a vacuumologist or anything, but I’m thinking that inability to locomote other than in a teeny neverending circle is going to be problematic, from a cleaning standpoint. read more…
Malfunction junction
My day? You want to know about my day? My day was JUST PEACHY.
Actually, there was nothing about my day that was truly a debacle. There was no blood, no catastrophe… Chickadee didn’t even have a single time-out. (I’m aware that to complain is somewhat petty. But I always say play to your strengths, and one of my strengths is whining.)
Still, it was one of Those Days. One of the days when you find yourself wondering—over and over—if getting out of bed this morning was really worth the effort. (Answer: Well, the kids probably would’ve gotten hungry, if I hadn’t.) read more…
One helluva prom date
There were all sorts of things that my childhood mind dreamed up as being the spoils of adulthood. Even as a teen, the fantasies continued. About how great it would be to be on my own, be my own boss (apparently in these imaginings, I lived in a vacuum… a vacuum full of money!), be able to wear whatever I wanted without a critical “Do you think you’re leaving the house dressed like THAT?”
Being a grown-up was going to be totally awesome.
And even as the grey hairs started to sprout, even as my ass began its slow, inexorable slide towards the backs of my knees, even as the bills piled up, I still held tight to the conviction that certain rights of adulthood were inalienable.
I was so naive. read more…
An entire family of wiseasses
So. The reunion-thingie on Saturday. Where to begin? How to tell you all about it?
Oh! I know!
Let’s start with how all of these people in my family—most of whom I didn’t know existed until this weekend—Have been READING THIS BLOG unbeknownst to me and courtesy of a cousin who sent EVERYONE the link. They were all SUPER! And PRETTY! All of them! I swear! And they promised not to read the entries about my boobs!
Actually, they really were all great, otherwise that might be, well, you know, awkward. Still. Newfound relations. Reading the blog. Not that I’m bitter about none of them piping up with a comment, or anything. (Do you see? You can take the girl out of Judaism, but you cannot take the guilt-tripping abilities out of the girl….) read more…
Hoping for fewer repercussions
So, my dad and stepmom arrived last night, and today we’re going to a little family reunion gathering. I know that people usually dread these things, but I’m actually looking forward to it. My father comes from a largish family. But for various reasons, I haven’t met most of these people.
Last night we were sitting around chatting after I put the kids to bed, and the phone rang. I answered, and heard “Aloha!”
My dad’s brother and his wife live in Hawaii. Obviously we don’t see each other very often.
We’re going to see them today, and they’d called to discuss plans. We swapped pleasantries. (How are you? Fine! How are YOU?) It suddenly struck me how long it’s been since I’ve seen my aunt and uncle.
“Hey, when was the last time I saw you?” I asked.
In stereo—one through the phone at my ear and the other sitting on the adjacent couch—my uncle and my father both answered, “Your wedding.”
There was a pause.
“Well!” I said, brightly, “we all know how well THAT worked out! Here’s hoping that tomorrow goes a little bit better!”
The spoils of old age
Well, I’ve been 35 for nearly a whole day, and it doesn’t feel much different. Then again, I felt about 50 before today, so… make of that what you will.
Things I did not have to clean up today: Vomit, pee.
Thing I did have to clean up today: Poop. (Dog, you have overstayed your welcome. I don’t care how cute you are, you have defiled my home repeatedly. Begone.)
Traditional dessert I did not have today: Cake. (Maybe tomorrow.)
Traditional dessert I did have today: Ice cream. Woohoo!
Love Thursday
Karen has asked for pictures that demonstrate love this Thursday.
My children made me a photo album—secretly, with the babysitter’s help—and made me cry with it, this morning. The photos are darling and the captions are by turns sweet (“We love each other”) and hilarious (“I’m not a bird I’m not a plane I’m your little girl!”). But I cannot share those pics because they’re not only full faces, they’re mostly backyard bathing suit sprinkler frolicking, and I don’t need pervs stopping by to ogle my half-naked children. So.
Instead, here’s an oldie but a goodie. Sometimes when two people love each other very much, they have to do some serious puddle-stomping to express it.
Gravy and all
When I last took care of our charming puppy-guest, she was still very much a puppy. She needed to go out approximately every seven minutes, and even then, she had a number of accidents in the house. If you left any item unattended either on the floor or anywhere within reach, she would chew it up. But that was this past winter.
But she’s much older and wiser and calmer, this time, and when I picked her up I said, “She doesn’t have accidents any more, right?”
“Right,” said my friend’s husband. “She’s very good, now. She’ll tell you if she wants to go out.”
This morning when we let her out of the crate, she let us know she wanted to go out. By peeing on the floor while I was getting her leash. Message received! read more…
But a puppy will make it all better
I had a mammogram this morning and was told I definitely do not have meningitis. Wait. That’s not right. I mean, I had a mammogram AND I don’t have meningitis, but that’s not what happened.
The mammogram was completely uneventful. This was disappointing. Why, based on my last mammogram, I was expecting at least two blog posts’ worth of material out of this adventure. Damn that tech and her efficient, ordinary ways!
After having my breasts smashed between a couple of plexiglass plates, I stopped and bought myself a chocolate chip muffin, because I figured I (or at least, my boobs) had earned it. That was the highlight of my day, right there. It was still warm. (The muffin. Try to stay with me, here.) read more…
Film Noir, by the brain tumor players
Two very unfortunate events have intersected this past week at Casa Mir.
First, I seem unable to completely shake the symptoms that derailed my Walk adventure. I’ll feel better—maybe a little tired, sure—for a day or two, and then the hammering headache and fever will come back again. It’s been over a week, and I HAVE THINGS TO DO. As a result, I’ve given up lolling around in bed for silly endeavors like “taking care of my children” and “working” and “cooking dinner.”
Second, my children need to go back to school before I kill them. read more…