More conspicuously absent from the manual
1) Even the world’s most selfish child will offer three of her six chicken nuggets to her sobbing brother who insists that he most certainly did NOT ask for that cheeseburger.
2) Do not bother trying to clarify to a small pacifist that it is technically impossible to avoid all of the tent caterpillars on the driveway while pulling in. Just agree that you avoided them all.
3) When your child’s therapist says that things are “much more productive” when you attend sessions rather than your ex, try not to gloat. Also resist the urge to share this information with him. Just schedule all future sessions accordingly, and maybe buy some pretty shoes.
4) Ignoring the single nostril that insists on oozing green goo for a month does not actually make it stop. Do not let the horror stories of adenoids swollen to blockage size stop you from calling the pediatrician. Once the child runs screaming from the room every time you approach with a tissue, it’s probably time to take action.
5) “I am NOT tired! Why do you always SAY I’m tired when I’m ANGRY? I’m not a BABY! And I’m NOT TIRED! I’m just CRANKY!” Check back in five minutes to confirm snoring.
And as a bonus… absent from the employee manual:
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This was definitely not in the manual
I called my father today to wish him a happy Father’s Day, on account of I would get a great big F in “Sandwich Generation;” I can either focus on my children or my parents, but not both. As I’ve been rather busy with the kids of late (read: trying to keep them alive and relatively well cared for while keeping from them the fact that I am a blubbering mess), I neglected to even send my father a card. (See also: I suck.)
But, hey! The advantage of being a mess–or maybe it’s just the advantage of having a cool Dad, I dunno–is that a phone call seems to do the trick, and everyone is relatively happy. Plus I get to vent about how much fun it is to be a parent these days!
(Sure, he can do the “I had to walk to school four miles in the snow uphill both ways barefoot” story, but he never had to endure the drama that is dealing with a modern public school. I win!)
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Friday Flashbacks: Liplocked
Enough with the ponderous. Blah blah blah, losing my mind, blah blah blah blah. Boooooooring. Let’s take a vacation, shall we?
I skipped the Friday Flashbacks last week. Time to return, and time to inject a little levity into things, I think.
So! Today! Memorable occasions of sucking face (for better or for worse). Play along, won’t you? Everyone’s got some good kissing stories. Or should. I don’t know that mine are really any different than anyone else’s, but it does give me a giggle or two to recall some of the men I’ve licked. (Sorry, Dad.)
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Telling time
So, on the one hand, I am feeling a vague shell of my former self. Which–under the circumstances–is a GOOD thing. As recently as a few days ago I still pretty much felt like a troglodyte. Even approximately feeling human is progress. Huzzah!
On the other hand, I went to great, grovelling lengths to get scheduled with my (former) therapist because it seemed like I might benefit from some head-shrinking at this particular juncture in my life (go figure). I had to make many phone calls and snivel a lot and then wait over a week for today to arrive, for my appointment at 12:15, at long last. I zipped across town with palpable relief.
Guess what time they had me scheduled for! Go on, GUESS!
(Hint: NOT 12:15!)
So what I get today is a lot of apologies and a new appointment (in two weeks; which, WOW, I sure am glad I’m not in crisis or anything!) and on Monday I get to have a brief phone call because it’s possible I look like I am about to bite the heads off of puppies, or something. I’m not really sure.
It’s okay. Really, it’s fine. I will look back on this and laugh. Why, look! I’m laughing, already! While banging my head on the desk!
I’m a little teapot
Actually, I am just a little tired, and a little sick of being sick or whatever it is that I am, but any time I start a sentence with “I’m a little…” I have the overwhelming urge to finish it off with “TEAPOT!”
So you’re all so, so pretty, and kind, and I, I am a little teapot. I hope to someday grow big and strong and maybe be a coffee urn once I’m back on my feet. I’m told it’s important to have goals, so there you have it.
Until then, thanks for having my back. Shiny new pennies and Ativan for each and every one of you.
Hi, I suck
You know how sometimes it seems like you’re Doing The Right Thing and it ends up totally biting you on the ass? No? Maybe it’s just me. I am incredibly talented when it comes to digging large holes which I later trip and fall into and wonder what the heck happened.
So, take my current, ahhh, situation. I’m fine! No, really, I’m just fine! Perfectly fine! See, that’s my stance the majority of the time. I mean, sure, technically I am so far from fine that I remember fine about as well as I remember high school trigonometry, but I am not going to unload on every random person who asks how I am. Or on my coworkers. That’s what the internet is for! Haha!
Wait, where was I? Oh yes. The fine and the not-fine and the Doing The Right Thing that totally isn’t. It’s all coming back to me now.
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Wrong answers
Me: Wow, that was really nice of you, Chickadee. Monkey, what do you say to your sister?
Monkey: BOOGER!
Me: Monkey!
Monkey: Sorry.
Me: What do you say?
Monkey: Thaaaaaank you–
Me: Better–
Monkey: –wiggy wiggy wiggy BOOGERS!
I’m thinking of opening my own finishing school.
Crash boom bang
The weather is mimicking my moods, or else perhaps my mood is being influenced by the barometer. The temperature soars to a stifling 95 or so, and just when the air is so sodden it seems it must crash down around our ears, it does. Thunderstorms; brief but intense. One minute, all is calm… the next, the thunder and driving rain are deafening.
The storm passes. The sun comes out again, and the earth dries out. And the temperature begins its slow creep towards the breaking point, again.
Mother Nature has an odd sense of humor.
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Needing to need
Many of my loved ones are people I characterize as being islands. You know the sort–they can HANDLE it, all by themselves, thankyouverymuch. In times of adversity I am always one of the first to smack these people around and say “You don’t NEED to be an island. Let some people in… you may be pleasantly surprised at how much it HELPS.”
Of course, I know this island sort, because I am one of them.
I believe in asking for help when you need it. But I don’t need it, you see.
Shut up.
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“… seven days…”
Have you seen the movie The Ring? I know how they could make it scarier.
Cuz, I dunno, maybe I’m just weird, but I didn’t find it all that scary. And I know people who claim it’s the best horror film they’ve ever seen. To be fair, I suspect that most of those people spent the entire film staring into Naomi Watts’ cleavage, but still.
My cleavage is not nearly so impressive, but I still think I’m ripe for a remake with an even better plot twist. Okay, FINE. I’ll wear my push-up bra.
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