Wednesday, September 16, 2009
#1 needed to be picked up from tutoring, which he went to on his own volition *hooray boy!*, at 4:00. I arrived a bit early so decided to find some of #2’s teachers to
What are YOU doing here?
Picking you up. What are you doing OUTSIDE?
Tutoring is over. I thought Papa was picking me up.
You thought wrong. Be with you in a minute.
I went in to talk to #2’s art teacher. Though the boy is doing well, he still doesn’t think that all homework applies to him. When I got back to the car #1 told me that my “cool mom legacy” continues. Apparently his friends were amazed by our conversation. I replied that I didn’t even speak to them or do anything cool. I guess their conversations with their maternal units are more
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
I woke up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning with a Mimosa under my nose. “Drink this, we’re going bra shopping.”
Bra shopping is no fun. Bra shopping when you are a 36 DDD is as entertaining as cleaning a public restroom with a toothbrush. After seventeen years of marriage, my husband Joseph has finally realized that the only way for me to go bra shopping is if I’m nicely potted.
“Drink up. There’s a door buster.”
A half hour later, I’m on the hunt, stumbling off to find my quarry. I was confident! I was empowered! I was sloshed. The bras in my cup size are generally located on the lowest racks since the weight of these babies apparently makes us hunch over anyway. I scooped up a half dozen while doing my Quasimodo, blearily apologizing to every rack I toppled on my way to the dressing room.
In that confined space, I realized that the temperature was ten degrees warmer than the rest of the store. Uncomfortable and sweating and I hadn’t tried anything on yet! After squeezing, shimmying, twisting and struggling into those contraptions, I felt like I’d been in a sauna. I tried out a sports bra and felt like I was all set for a mammogram. Removing it took five minutes and had me spinning like a break-dancer and bumping into the door causing the attendant to see if I needed help.
“Sssaalrite!” I replied as the bra finally broke free with a THWAP. She never came back.
My cell phone chirped and I dug it out of my pocket to discover Joseph had sent me pictures of several mannequins wearing bras that I couldn’t have worn after my first month of puberty. With a giggle, I fought my way into a pushup model that made me look like I was auditioning for a part in an opera, held out my phone, snapped a shot and sent it to him.
I immediately had the sort of second thoughts that freeze heart, soul and brain into a single icy column. What had I just done? Had I even sent it to the right number?
Choosing two bras more or less at random, I burst out of the stall, shoved them at Joseph and stumbled away without a look back. I’d lost five pounds of water weight along with untold brain cells. I lay on the wall outside the store. The clouds were so pretty, birds singing so cheerfully that I was thinking that maybe bra shopping wasn’t so bad after all. Then I fell off the wall…into the bushes…
Joseph appeared over me, cell phone in hand, and called me a silly drunk.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Doc is amazing. I love her and am amazed and more grateful than I can express for her guidance and the progress I have made under her care. In the nearly 2 years that I’ve been her patient, I have made so much more progress than in the entire previous 20 years. My ankle has less pain & ever so much more mobility. I have lost 40+ pounds, quit smoking and discovered this gluten thing that has really alleviated the anxiety crap. I’m going hiking 3 times a week and doing (minimal) strength training. Because of the mobility issue, I can’t run and walking just doesn’t get my heart rate up enough anymore. Climbing mountains, tho is great exercise for me, the incline REALLY gets my heart rate going! Besides I love it. Being outside, the desert, time with my kids, doing something that I nearly thought I would never do again, all of it. I’m so happy that I’ve finally gotten this exercise routine down & it is going so well.
Today Doc tells me that I am at the point in my progress where I can progress further or set myself up for major injury, and that this is a very fine line. Intellectually I understand this, but what I’d really like to do is lay on the floor & scream & kick. She wants me to brainstorm, reassess and come up with a plan that will respect my ankle more. I know why she won’t tell me what to do. It will mean more to me to research and come up with my own plan. This is how I’m trying to raise my own kids…but DAMN it sucks…it is so much work!
When I was a little girl I couldn’t wait to grow up, be my own boss & get to do whatever I wanted. I hated having people tell me what to do.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
But now, I’m having performance anxiety, stage fright, an all around case of the nerves!
Laurie Notaro is having an essay contest. Since I am the biggest idiot girl I know, I have to enter! The deadline is only a week away tho and what if what I enter sucks? Is a week long enough to produce a less than 450 word masterpiece? And whatever shall I write about?! Are any of my idiot girl escapades actually funny? Now there are people that say I’m funny and that I should write a book, but these are people like my mom or assorted others that I’ve paid to hang out with me.
Enough of the whining already! I will sit down & crank out a story. If it sucks, so be it. Hey! That could be an idiot girl story all by itself!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Self: We're always crazy, what is more so?
The rest of the day was much the same. The kids were very sweet, but bickered and poked at each other like always. DM went in spurts of extra driven-ness. Took out Wawa for dinner after church, with results much the same as the brunch.
Upon going to bed I did realize that there are so many amazing/special/fabulous moments, every single day, being a mom that trying to orchestrate an event is bound to backfire.
I hope yours was fantastic...or at least that you didn't cry (I didn't BTW).
Thursday, April 30, 2009
What they are planning is along the lines of the photo, but with 2 bowling balls and fireworks...I kid you not. Neat project, eh? In theory yes. The reality is more along the lines of shoving a red hot poker into one's eye socket. The biggest problem is that he isn't doing this on his own, he is teamed up with 2 other whack-job 16 year old boys! We have affectionately dubbed them the Squirrel Twins. On their own, they are probably marvelous, intelligent guys; together they have the combined IQ of a brussel sprout. They haven't done the physics involved, they have come up with the idea and then want to go buy the supplies. We went to the home of ST1, I went along because his mother wasn't home, so I had to "supervise", ST2 came over and they began planning...while playing Guitar Hero! I like loud music, but my fillings were jarring loose. I just sat and read my book. While ST1 is telling me that they can build anything with wood we want, he has the tools...no problem...his mother comes home. She wasn't aware that people were coming over and apparently the little darling wasn't supposed to be playing video games...oops. She removed the gate from the stairs & heaved it across the room while shrieking for ST1 to GETINHISROOMNOW! #1 shrunk to about the size of an armadillo, whispered to me "I told him to tell his mom.", and asked if we should flee now. We got the rest planned and fled.
We went to the handyman's hideout and I asked if someone could help us. A nice man named Alan did and began asking incredibly complicated questions like; what is it supposed to do, how big is it going to be, and (worst of all) with what are you going to make it. Turns out these Einsteins haven't...even...done...the...physics! #1's response to my asking if they had done ANY calculations was, "oh, we're going to try it & if it doesn't work, we"ll try something else." It is due on Monday. I'm walking this very fine line between helping him and letting him do it. ST1 really doesn't seem very reliable, so I tentatively set up a rendezvous with my dad to do the construction.
Will I ever survive my kids' education?
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I just found out that I don't have a picture of dad on my work p'uter. I'll have to add to this later.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Why, you ask? Because Driven Man was driving this bus. One wouldn't want to be *gasp* late for an egg hunt at Sprouts! The world as we know it would come to a screeching halt. Dogs and cats would begin living together...total anarchy would ensue. The Princess was awakened and of course she was interested, she's 5, a girl and, well, all her brain cells are not yet fully formed. If she were 40 and had this mental capacity she would be referred to as retarded. I was commanded to go since this was a "bonding experience" for the Princess and her parents.
I am evil, I know, I just couldn't walk out of the house and leave my minions sleeping. 3 blissfully slumbering boys in a nice warm house while I have to be up and attempt to be cheerful? JUST PLAIN WRONG. I asked the Princess if she wanted her brothers to go. She seemed hesitant, but said she wanted one. I burst into their room asking for a brother representative. After the moaning and writhing ceased, #1 said he would do it. I was shocked really, it wasn't that difficult to convince him...so much for my fun. We picked up Wawa...why? Because nothing says Forced Family Fun like pre-dawn grocery shopping with Grandma!
We arrived at Sprouts, which is probably my favorite store right now, around 7:25. There were almost no cars in the lot. DM didn't know if the hunt was inside or outside, maybe they cancelled it because of the weather! I said (stupidly) "There are people inside". You say it, you check it, is the DM motto. I got out of the car, because apparently I don't have many more functioning brain cells than the Princess. There was a cute blonde cashier dressed as a bunny and they were putting up balloons and placing plastic eggs all over the store. IN PLAIN VIEW! There was really no attempt made to actually hide the eggs. I returned to the car with the recon report and Wawa, the Princess and #1 got out. We STOOD IN FRONT OF THE STORE waiting for it to open. While waiting in line, freezing my tuckus off, I realized we were missing someone...a particularly vital someone...the sumbich who was responsible for all of us being there! DM was in the car getting himself a little ole beauty nap. I glided over to the van (stormed), sweetly asked (growled) what he was doing, and asked kindly (demanded) that he join us (get his ass out of the car). A pregnant woman with a 3 year old spotted us & GOT IN LINE! The manager (in the background of the photo) poked his head out the door and said they will be opening in a few minutes. More "customers" arrived to wait in line behind us. Think Grapes of Wrath meets Black Friday. Boy were we a motley crew.
When they finally opened the doors, we were informed that the kids should only take 5 eggs each, so there would be plenty for everyone. It took the Princess all of 30 seconds to get her eggs and then put enough back so she only had 5.
The best part of the whole event was looking up and seeing #1 reading the Communist Manifesto. The irony was lost on him. If you look closely at the picture, you can read the title...I couldn't make this stuff up!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Unfortunately, the sixth picture in the sixth folder on my computer is just the compeletly sweet, standard Christmas picture. Every year on Christmas we take a picture with Wawa, by the Creche. Hey I could scrapbook those! Yeah right, when my kids are gone & I've caught up on my sleep. One special thing we do is put hay in around the Baby Jesus, to keep him warm. I think the Princess is holding some in her hand.
Monday, April 6, 2009
I got a text from the boy, "they put a needle in my nose."
See, he had had a...pimple, zit, growth, protrusion...whatever. It had been on the side of his nose for nearly a month. I thought it was going to burst and spiders would come crawling out of it a la "The Believers" . He had squeezed it a couple times and the substance that erupted from it was neither puss nor blood but an evil combination of the two.
The quack said, "That is no zit...it's an infection." Hence the needle in the nose.
He texted me again saying, "they hurt me." My poor baby. After a rousing course of antibiotics, he is clear complected once more.
One year as the invisible girl at Alhambra, does not an alumni make...to my way of thinking anyway.
So Bourgade is "my" highschool. I may have been back there once or twice since graduation and have successfully avoided any reunions in the last century, but being there with my princess was really cool...in a nostalgic, angst filled, neck ruffling way. I think the reason I was finally ready to enjoy being back is because I've finally grown into myself. I'm no longer the dorky, shy, insecure teenager. I'm the dorky self-assured old lady. I really like this stage sooooo much better. I enjoy, even revel in the weirdness that is me. I like who I am and really don't care what others think. Now this doesn't mean I'll go to the store unshowered and bra-less...I might kill someone! But if I don't look perfect, it really is okay. I am not my appearance, tho' I still do, occasionally, shave my legs and consistently wear a minimal amount of makeup.
It was fun showing the princess where Papa & Mama met and, unlike the boys, she thought it was neat.
Maybe I'll go back, before another hundred years passes.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
After the princess was born & I was so sick, I also developed an anxiety disorder...apparently not uncommon with cardio problems. So, for the past almost 6 years I've dealt with this amazingly annoying condition. I finally discovered that when my life is actually super stressful I do okay, but let things mellow out a little bit, the anxiety rears it's ugly head. When Doc & I talked about it, we came to the conclusion/assumption that I'm sort of an adrenaline/stress addict and when it is removed my body doesn't know what to do. I thought it was a good theory, but what do I do about it? At that point she suggested an elimination diet...removing wheat, dairy, sugar. I thought about it for a while, because that is a daunting task.
I started realising that I had been having digestive issues, for a while now. Bound up and abdominal discomfort quite frequently in the past year. The more water I drank & exercise I got, the worse the problem...it's really not supposed to work like that! The whole elimination diet kept ruminating around in my brain while I was busy doing other things.
About a month ago, out of the blue, I decided to eliminate wheat and see what happened. Tuesday was the day I began refraining from the offending grain. Wednesday I was going REALLY fast. Almost like an anxiety attack, but different. I couldn't turn my brain off and was extraordinarily manic. I started thinking that the crazy psycho doc I'd been to, who thought I was bi-polar, might be right. Thursday I felt better but my muscles started twitching periodically & I didn't know what was going on. When I saw Doc I told her I was feeling weird and she asked what changed. I told her about eliminating wheat and she asked how I'd felt the day before and proceeded to tell my symptoms I was having and said I was allergic to wheat. Very strange.
It really hasn't been hard for me to stay away from it, mentally I don't miss it that much at all. Now when there are big cookies at work or a nice loaf of crusty bread for dinner, I go, aaaawwwwwww. Most of the time though, I'm fine.
Last week DM made meatloaf for dinner. When I asked what he put in it, he said just seasoning. That night I couldn't get to sleep, just couldn't turn my brain off. The next day I was psycho manic girl again. When I got home I asked DM if he had put bread crumbs in the meatloaf, he apologized & said yes, but he had forgotten. It was nice to have the confirmation that I do have a problem with wheat.
Today #1 has a track meet. While at the meet I got a cheese burger, no bun. I sort of felt like a loser, but oh well...when has THAT ever stopped me? The princess had nachos and I ate a few of them. Corn is okay right?! Approximately 45 minutes later I started feeling weird. Going fast, shaky, etc. I started wondering about the cheese sauce for the nachos, but tried to blow it off. As more time passed and I was feeling worse, I went to the snack bar, dug the nacho can out of the garbage, wiped the coffee grounds off and read the label. It has modified food starch and natural flavor in it...both can be hidden wheat.
It pisses me off, but again, it is good to have the confirmation that I really do need to stay away from gluten...in a big way.
This has probably taken me twice as long to type as it should since my hands are shaking and not behaving like they should.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Yes, we are hippies. We have a curtain for a bathroom door. Now the curtain is a very patriotic print which would make one think it is an oxymoron...pretty appropriate for me dontcha think?
Monday, March 9, 2009
- Once again I saw the date of my last post, shrieked and stammered about how long it has been since I posted. Then I moved on. Busy job, busy life, yadda, yadda.
- I want it to be known that I have at least been THINKING about new posts. Things such as the variances of stench, the fact that I have no fear when it comes to my employment & the things I will say to people in positions of power, and pre-teen boys who refuse to remain fully clothed.
- While I usually try to refrain from disparaging my husband, this must be posted! Things are going ever so much better with us, really and truly and that is the only reason I'm putting this on here. I love him immensely, but the idiocy astounds me.