Friday, January 30, 2009

All Because I Thought Momentarily, "I Really Do Love Everybody Right Now"

When I was 18 years old I worked at a daycare. I worked in the 3 year old room and one day the director brought in a little guy with white-blonde hair. He was smaller than the average three year old.

As he stood far away from all of us, scowling, we wondered how old he was and if he was placed in our room accidentally. I finally asked him, "How old are you little guy?"

He growled, "I'm SIX."

I laughed out loud.

I later learned that this tiny little guy was 3 and had lived more horrific things in those 3 short years than some of us will ever see in our lifetime. He had a handicapped sister who was six and they had been abandoned sometimes 2-3 weeks at a time by their biological parents. He knew how to change both of their diapers, make himself a bottle, and had learned to survive before he was 2.

Just typing this makes my heart break all over again.

Well, as a result, he learned to need no one. Or trust anyone. Or care about anything. He had the mouth of a sailor and the attitude of an 89 year old man who was sick of living.

If it wasn't so tragic, it would be hilarious, the way he acted.

He became mine and I worked with him regularly to soften him up. I adored him. He used to save food in his cheeks after mealtimes or snack because he didn't know when he'd get to eat again. When I figured this out, I got permission from the director to let him carry around food in a bag all day. In an effort to give him security and eliminate his squirrel-like behavior.

One day, months and months after he became mine, he jumped up on one of the tables and yelled, "EVERYBODY IS A BUTT*O*E!"

If any other child had done this, it would have been a serious offense. But he was mine, so he was safe. He wanted a reaction, and we were trying to eliminate his need for negative attention. I calmly said, "Little Guy, your feet shouldn't be on the table, should they?"

He smiled coyly and said, "I need everyone to hear me!"

So I said, "Yes, but you are using words we don't use here, aren't you?"

He said, "It's not bad! It means that I love everybody."

"Well then, you should probably say 'I love everybody' instead of those words we don't say here, Little Guy."

To which he responded, "I LOVE EVERYBODY THAT IS A BUTT*O*E!!"

I went away to college and it devastated me to leave him. But all the teachers were in love with him by then, so he was left to be adored by others. I had taught him that "gorgeous" was a bad word and he should never say it, he could say whatever he wanted, but he couldn't say that. So every night as he was leaving he'd say, "Nobody's sooooo goh-juss!" and felt like he was getting away with something.

I came back a few months later and went to his room to see him. He was laying on a mat for naptime, but not quite asleep. I went to him and said, "Little Guy, do you remember me?" He said he didn't. I said, "It's me, Nobody" and he turned and said fiercely, "Yo' not Nobody, she went on an airplane and she loves Little Guy!" In the same moment my heart broke that he didn't recognize me, it overflowed that he remembered me and remembered that I loved him so very much.

I hope wherever Little Guy is now, he's found safety and peace and that he was loved by so many more after me.

In the last 14 years that have passed....I've adopted his words as my own personal battle cry.

I love to say, "I love everybody!"

And really, it means, "Everybody is a butt____!"

On Tuesdee I had a bad day. A couple of annoying things happened and my kids wouldn't get along or listen and I was probably tired and it's been a while since I've had a bad day, so I think I was due for one.

It wasn't just an "ugh, today's dumb" kind of day. It was an, "I'm about to cry any second" kind of bad day. I said I loved everybody a few times that day.

I talked to my mom for a little bit and that always helps me.
Hearing about Ida Lou's bladder reconstruction surgery gone awry always makes me feel better about my life.

Well anyway. That night we had an enrichment activity planned. Enrichment activities, for those of you who don't know, it is a bunch of women from church getting together and eating, learning, crafting, talking, laughing, etc.

On Sunday I told the girl who planned it I would be there. But when The Bad Tuesday rolled around, I really didn't feel like going and being around people. I felt like staying at home and griping to J and eating my weight in chocolate.

A lot of people came. If I hadn't come, it probably wouldn't have mattered---meaning, the girl I promised I'd be there, probably wouldn't go home and cry into her big fat pilla at night, because I wasn't there.

I may have gone for her, but I stayed for me. It was so good for me. SO GOOD. It completely cured me of my blues. I came home feeling like a new person, and so happy to live near and know so many really cool people.

I know that this party wasn't easy. The girl who planned it is a teeny tiny little thing and she's 8 months pregnant. I think anything after about 4 months is wildly uncomfortable when you're teeny tiny like that. One advantage I have over my teeny tiny contemporaries, is that my kids have the luxury suite when I'm carrying them. All kinds of rooms and views there.

Plus, planning church activities can be somewhat of a crapshoot. Do you think it might be a little misguided to use the word "crapshoot" in the same sentence as church? Really though, you have to appeal to so many personalities, you don't know who'll bother to show, it's always way more work than you want to do in the first place, and so on.

I guess the point of this post is, I really do love everybody right now. And I'm really glad that the girl in charge planned it and did such a great job. Even if it wasn't easy and probably not fun for her. Thanks. Teeny Tiny Girl. If there was a way I could share some of my "extra" room with you, I totally would.

This has been brought to you by the REAL NOBODY. I am just this long-winded and tangential in real life. The only thing missing from this post that you'd get in real life, is about 3-4, "So, what was I saying" and "Now, where was I going with that?"

Just throw them in randomly and you'll get the full effect.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

This Might Be A Little Bit What It's Like In My Brain. Maybe. No, Probably Not. Nevermind.

I wrote this yesterday:
I just heard Bo say, "Bwing it on Tom Mowello"
Translation: I'm a 5 year old who spends too much time playing guitar hero. And also my dad says things that are wildly inappropriate for my age on a regular basis.

Yesterday I left my car running for an hour and a half because I was just going to grab the kids and go to the gym. Neither happened. And so the car ran.

I basically ended the evening with the same kind of stupidity. A friend and I jumped in the car to run to the store (3 miles away) to get some very important ingredients for 10 pm lettuce wraps.

As I pulled into the primo parking space, we both realized that neither of us had brought any money/cards to pay for the very important ingredients.

I'm tired.

Avee told me yesterday, as she was getting into some Valentine's Day candy, "My ears don't work right now and please don't look at me."

That's what we call "covering your bases" around here. Wish she'd harness that kind of thinking for things like, oh, counting past 12 or caring how old she actually is.

I wrote this today

This morning at the gym I realized I have even greater motivation to work out, than I already had. Hard to imagine.

My ipod earbuds keep falling out of my ears. It's really annoying.

After the 7th time of putting one back in, I realized that my ears are too chubby to hold them. There isn't enough room. It's not really my ears, as much as it is my...earbud holders. So, I kicked it up a notch today and burned 500 calories instead of my normal 300-350. I'm pretty sure my ears are going to be looking and feeling great really soon.

Danyo is a grudge holder. This is a problem because he cries for 40 minutes after an offense and he doesn't know why he's crying, and we've all forgotten ourselves, and all wrongs have been corrected and then some, but he still yells and cries. Why did I bring this up? Oh, cuz he's been yelling at me for the last 25 minutes because I wouldn't let him play with scissors.

I got two wrong phone number calls today. The first one was this morning and it showed up as a collection agency. My first response was to ignore it and run. But then I realized I don't have any bills I haven't paid. Yet. And I suddenly had horrible thoughts of stolen identity, so I answered. It was a wrong number. Relieving.

The other one was a local spa calling to confirm an 8am appointment for Saturday morning.
It was not an appointment for me. Depressing.

In matters of blog business:
A couple of people "delurked" on the last post. What a nice surprise. I'm a firm believer in comment if you want, don't if you don't. Of course I enjoy every comment, and I am always flattered when someone reads my blog that isn't like, you know, personally invested in me. And my mental health. Hi J. Hi Mom. Hi S. So anyway, when "strangers" come along and say hi, it's kind of a nice treat. Omar, once upon a time you were a stranger but I think it's safe to say you are far from it since you feel completely comfortable making fun of my posts. As long as you are funny when you do it.

So anyway, thanks y'all.

And speaking of y'all, Tori, you were totally right about the Parent Trap quote. It was obscure and incomplete and you still got it. Your movie quote detecting skills astound me. F'real.

This concludes today's segment of blog business.

I had this conversation at the gym, with a nice girl I met there about a year ago.

Her: So, is your husband still planning on going back to school?
Me: Yeah, it's always kind of one of our plans.
Her: Where would he go?
Me: Oh, anywhere, we'd just move to where ever he gets in.
Her: (Somewhat shocked expression)
Me:(huh, why does she look like that. Is there sweat dripping down my nose again? Dangit! People think it's snot and it's not snot it's not!)
Her: You'd move from here!?
Me: (Completely shocked expression) Uhhhh, yeah. I would. Is that bad? Wait, ohhhh, you think I'm from here? I'm not from here. Yeah. I would totally move from here.
Her: Oh, I didn't realize you weren't from here. So, why do you live here?
Me: Exactly

I think I've probably shared enough. Let me know if you feel it's incomplete or want anymore information.

Oh wait, one more thing: Avee has decided to do away with basic conversation skills and now only speaks to me with lyrics from Wicked and does a three-year-old "whistle" to get my attention. So, say for example, "Bye da bying grabity" isn't immediately recognized as "get me some chocolate milk" then she will whistle for me.

When I realized all the noise was actually conversation, aimed at me. I laughed. And then recorded a bit for you.

Monday, January 26, 2009

The One Where I Pretend My Mind Hasn't Gone To Mush And Talk About Theories And Whatnot

Nearly 9 years ago when I met J, he gave me a book to read called Leadership and Self Deception. It's a fairly quick read and a really great book. It's a book I think everyone should read. Well, I was eager to discuss it's contents with J, but he was nowhere to be found. I think when we first met I had some old-fashioned idea that I wouldn't ever call boys. But this book made me desperate and I called him somewhere between 22 and 53 times in the next 5 days.

When we finally did talk, I had questions about the premise of us choosing how to react to a stimuli. It seems somewhat obvious to me now, but I am a mature, self-actualized, brilliant woman in my 30's now. I remember specifically wondering how it was that someone "chooses" anger when something happens to them that would obviously cause one to be angry.

And he explained with an example. You come out to your car that is parked on the street and find it completely bashed in. You are immediately angry. Bashed in cars can generally evoke anger. And you are angry at whoever bashed in your car. And you are justified. And then you learn that it was a meteor that hit your car. It couldn't have been helped and no one did it to you. The situation hasn't changed, but your emotions most likely will. And most likely you aren't/can't be angry anymore. And there you are, choosing what you feel.

Well, recently something happened that got me all worked up and angry. I was justified because it involved people being stupid. And I was mad and ready to sit down and vent and really go to town on my blog. I was going to describe the stupidity in such articulate detail, the readers would feel my pain, I would be the poor little victim, and it was gonna be good.

And literally as I was sitting down to write, I learned a new bit of information pertaining to the sitchee-ashun and suddenly I had no cause. It changed everything. This information totally took the wind out of my sails.

Well, writing for me is like a good little legal drug. It's cathartic and I love the feeling when I have a finished "story" in front of me. So I had the anticipation of that catharsis and the feeling of completion, just like a nice hot brownie with a scoop of French Vanilla on top. But suddenly I had nothing to write. No brownie to eat. No bowl to lick. No cathar to sis.

This was a very loud realization for me.

No one had changed, nothing had changed. Just my perception. And suddenly I wasn't in any way "justified" to be angry or to vent. Or to be a victim.

To be perfectly honest, this was a little depressing.

Later I was thinking about how when I'm driving, every car on the road is stupid except me. I can't stand tailgaters. I can't stand those people who speed up and pass you and quickly cut in front of you because you are being a decent driver and not tailgating. I can't stand people who think I should turn faster on a yield green than I do. I can't stand people who drive down turn lanes. Run red lights. Stop at yellow lights. Talk on their phones. Almost hit me. Sit at 4-ways waiting for Godot....etc, etc, etc.

And I have never done a single one of these things to anyone else.

Here's where my very valuable and relatively expensive college degree comes in.

In my social psych class we learned about an element of the attribution theory that is called "Fundamental Attribution Error."

You can look up what it means, but it will probably be shrouded in lots of unnecessary words because psychology doesn't take too kindly to being called "soft" and makes up for it with lots of extra unnecessary words.

Or you could keep reading and I'll tell you. It basically describes how when we are speeding down the road in our cars, we are late for work, or our spouse is in the care with a cut off limb and we're racing them to the hospital, or our brakes don't work. And we are completely justified in speeding down the road. But on another day, we see someone else speeding down the road and we think, "Jerk! Slow down! What? Does he want to kill someone driving that fast? What's wrong with people these days..." And we don't ever stop to think maybe his wife is in labor in the front seat, or he just got word that his child is in the emergency room, or his own finger is hanging by a thread. We know our own situations and we are justified. But we make snap judgments on people without ever considering their situation.

This knowledge I obtained in my early twenties---haunts me. I can't just get road rage and good-girl swear at people anymore. I can't act appalled and shake my head in disgust when I see moms yelling at their kids at stores. Just last week at Hobby Lobby I was the crazy hissing lady in aisle 8 threatening to spank my little princess all the way to the car.

No I wasn't, I was just kidding about that. In the same way that Avee is "just kidding" when she talks back. It totally happened, I'm just going to say I was kidding in hopes that you'll forget. Or think I'm cute and not care..

When I have moments like the above---when I'm about to vent and elicit sympathy and be totally justified, and suddenly it's taken away, not by the events changing, but by my information changing---I'm ashamed.

I'm ashamed that as an educated, fairly open-minded, well-rounded in more ways than one, decent human being---I am guilty of being a jerk. A judgmental jerk. And I think how much happier my life would be, if I didn't let myself be guilty of the FAE. Fundamental Attribution Error. FAE is what we call it around here.

And I can't help but think how much happier most of us would be if we didn't get sucked into it.

I think this will be one of my goals this year. I've already harnessed the empowering attitude of thinking everyone thinks I'm amazing and awesome and wants to be like me, so now I'm going to work on harnessing the, "don't be a schmuck, give people a break" attitude.

Who's in?

Friday, January 23, 2009


Bo got a lizard book at the library and was perusing it at the kitchen table while I was making dinner. Perusing quickly turned into, "I want I want I want". Which is altogether very annoying.

But I am nothing, if not a patient and nearly perfect mother. I explained that I still washed his hair, cleaned up his toys, made his dinner, drove him places, washed his clothes, etc. I did not want another "thing" to take care of, and until he was a little older and had more responsibilities that I don't have to nag him about (read: never) he can get a pet.

Of course, that wasn't good enough. Duh.

The "conversation" went back and forth like this for ten minutes. He desperately wanted a fat tailed lizohd and I showed amazing self-restraint by not flicking him with the wooden spoon I was using to stir the pasta sauce. Dried cheese in a pouch is still considered "pasta sauce", right?

Finally I had had enough and I said, "Bo, you are not getting a pet, I'm not going to keep having this conversation, you need to drop it. Drop it right now."

As I said these words I realized they sounded a little harsh for my preshy. And that I had never used the phrase "drop it" with him.

He looked up at me with a quick grin and giggled, "Drop it like a baby giraffe being born?"

I could not believe he came up with this on his own. But he did. He learned about how baby giraffes are born (uh, I got a clear idea based on his very clever simile, but had never thought about it before and definitely wasn't familiar with the basics) and me saying "drop it", naturally brought that to mind.

* I would like to give credit where credit is due, my sister "S" came up with that clever word. Everyone around me is so clever. I'm just a look alike ma'am.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Why I Had Kids

Here by popular demand:
The MLK Jr cake.

I always wanted a Teddy Ruxpin when I was little. If only I had known then that I just had to wait 25 years, be married to a man with mad cake decorating skills, and have a 5 year old obsessed with notable Black American leaders...

All my wildest dreams came true when J built this cake.

You know, Bo is quick to call me on my shortcomings. He notices when the dinner I make is gross. He tells me loudly and repeatedly when I let his underwear drawer get empty. He just isn't one to let things slide.

He was perfectly happy with this cake. It was 100% acceptable as a likeness of Martin Luther King Jr.

Methinks there is somewhat of a double standard here.

J taped a great conversation with Bo just after this cake was made. But I can't post it because J uses his first and last name on it twice.

And on a completely unrelated and final note, tonight while I was walking home from a friend's house with Avee, we had this conversation.

Me: Avee, did you help clean up downstairs?
Avee: No
Me: What did you do then?
Avee: I just walked around, I was too tired to clean.
Me: Avee, I need to talk to you about helping when it's clean up time.
Avee:(popping her head off my shoulder where she was sweetly snuggled) You keep calling me AVEE!
Me: You're right, I do! What should I call you?
Avee: You should call me Princess Peach Beauty Mom Princess.
Me: Oh
Avee: Stop laughing at me!
Me: I can't help it.

I would just like to point out that MOM made it into that line up.


Monday, January 19, 2009

Not The MLK Post

To say I have thought about this blog even once in the last 4 days would be a lie.

I've been more consumed with thoughts of how to roll over in bed with the least amount of effort.

And how to make the noise children stop happy.

I'm not even that sick. I'm just exhausted. But I think I'm better.

I watched Baby Mama. I liked it a lot more than I thought I would. I mean, I expected it to be decent, but I really liked it. I think Tina and Amy are hilarious. Throw in a hippy, egocentric Steve Martin, and you've got a winner.

I also watched "Over Her Dead Body" which was as dumb as I expected. I do love Paul Rudd though. And every time I see Eva Longoria I say out loud to J, "I just don't think she's pretty" and every time I really want him to say, "You're right. She isn't. Besides, who can compare to you?" But every time he says, "I just can't agree with you there."

I think he might have a lot in common with my brother David. That's alls I gots to say about that.

Since I already confessed that I didn't think about my blog for 4 days, it's kind of presumptuous of me to think you're gonna wanna read any blathering I am inclined to post. So instead I'll leave you with a few of my favorite things. No dog bites, no bee stings, but there is a baby falling, I'm pretty sure.

I'll go ahead and say it for you Omar. Nothing of Avee. I still love her. The only thing I had of her was a conversation with her making no sense, me trying to make sense of her nonsense, and me losing, royally. Not gonna do it. She can post it on her future blog under the lable "times I acted like I didn't know what my mom was talking about and talked in circles and totally drove her crazy." or "times I acted like I thought the word 'boring' and 'born' were the same thing and made my mom think I was destined for the short bus".
The end.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

I Hab A Code

I fell asleep last night before 9 and got up this morning after 8.

That is heaven. If only it wasn't combined with sinus pressure the likes of a dump truck unloading cement inside my head.

I usually manage to nip a cold, or drastically decrease the effects, by taking Airborne at first sign, or my own concoction of vitamin C, echinacea, etc. (spell check suggests "chinaware" for echinacea)

But this cold hit me in less than 7 minutes. I'm not even exaggerating. One 7 minutes I was fine, and the next 7 minutes---I was not.

After feeling increasingly worse throughout the day, I decided I needed some real meds on my side. You know, the kind you have to show your DRIVERS LICENSE to get? Yeah, well....

I lost my DL the night before. So in a desperate attempt to get help, I grabbed the only other picture ID I had, my YMCA card, got the neighbor to watch Avee and Danyo, and headed off with Bo in the icy cold.

I was denied.

Like 5 times. I was so desperate, but they would not budge at that there Walgreen's pharmacy. I'm fairly certain my appearance didn't help my case when I tried to say I wasn't a meth-head.

"I suhwear I don't do that hillybilly crack, just give me some of the good stuff" says I. My left eye was red and swollen, my entire face was worn out and beat down by the lack of soft tissue usage in my home, I wasn't exactly "dressed" and hadn't necessarily "bathed regularly" and I couldn't find a brush. Of the teeth or hair variety.

I walked away from the Rx counter and hid in aisle 9 to cry. Nobody knew any different, particularly Bo who was again working on a Pokemon purchase.

I do feel better right now, but that could be the Niquil talking.

Danyo got himself out of his crib this morning. J actually congratulated him. Does he not realize what this means!!? Of course, he could have been thinking about the fact that the boy actually asks to go to bed when he's tired---so maybe it's not such a bad thing.

Why is it that people who make kid shows tend to be seriously lacking on vital information about age-appropriate behavior?

For example: Emily on Sid the Science Kid. Why does she talk like a 6 month old with an incredible vocabulary?

Or Curious George. Sometimes he does things that a monkey with opposable thumbs could NEVER do. Okay, just kidding about that one. I got nothing bad to say about the monkey. I love that little rascal.

Peace, love, and a box full of tissues. That's my hope to y'all today, and pretty much gonna be my day.

Minus the peace.

That almost never happens here before 9 pm.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


Bo (to his friend): Yeah! I seen it on Youtube!

Me (flying out of the other room like a bat out of hell): Did you just say, "I seen"!?!?!?!

Bo (and every other kid in the room): Yeah, I did! It was on Youtube.

Me: Yes, but did you say, 'I seen'?

Bo: Yes.

Me: It's I saw it. Seriously. Don't ever say 'I seen' again. Nobodies do NOT say 'I seen', you hear me boy?

Neighbor girl: Yeah, you live in Iowa, it's 'I saaaawl'

Monday, January 12, 2009

He Understands Perfectly

After hearing Bo call someone/something retarded I took advantage of the opportunity to tell him what retarded actually meant, how it's not a bad thing, but when people say it to be mean, it is a bad thing. I explained, "Some people are born with brains that work slower and they can't help if their brains work slower. The word retarded means someone's brain works slower, and it's a really unkind thing to use that word for name calling."

I'm sure I was way more articulate when I was talking to him.

I watched his little face to see what he was processing, I wanted to make sure it was sinking in properly.

He was thoughtful, truly contemplating the information and then said earnestly, "Mom. I think Uncle David is retarded." I fought with every bit of control I could muster not to burst out laughing because I'm pretty sure I spent my entire teen years saying the same thing.

"Why do you say that Bo?"
"Well, he got coal for Christmas. Why else would you get coal for Christmas?"

Not sure he entirely gets the concept.


Avee and her little BF Ella are not allowed to play upstairs because they tear it to pieces. I find blankets in air vents, air freshener in the toilets, kids on top of bunk beds, etc. They are not naughty girls, but there's something about the upstairs that makes them crazy.

And since it's off limits, they of course ONLY want to do that.

Just now they were "sneaking" upstairs. Which entails two pretty loud little girls suddenly being very quiet. By the stairs. What little children don't know is that quiet is more telling than loud--to a mom. They could yell "I'M GOING UP THE STAIRS NOW BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH!!!" and I'd be less likely to notice.

So I turn and say warningly, "Get down here right now."

And Avee yells at her friend, "Now look what you did! I told you to be quiet!"

To their credit. They made it all the way up the stairs and into a bedroom just a mere 30 seconds later. By being very quiet when I thought they were going down stairs.


Bo asked J who was in charge of our neighborhood. He wondered if it was J. When J informed him that it wasn't so, he pondered a bit and then said, "I know who's in charge of this neighbo'hood. It's God, Jesus, and Barack Obama."

Just so you know---we don't EVER get tired of his fascination with the Barack man.


Yesterday when J walked in the door after two kids had gone to bed and Bo was about to go, Bo cheerfully said, "Hello white boy!"

Both J and I laughed and I asked, "Where on earth did you learn the phrase 'white boy'?!"
Bo looked at me all weird and said, "I said late boy."

Which is still cute. But not nearly as funny.


J: Ew, your teeth are gross, go brush them.
Bo (whining): But I'm a loooong teeth bwushooooo
J: Hahahaha! So?! Go brush your teeth.
Bo: It's takes me sooooo long.
J: I'll give you some candy....

Bo: You know what I don't like about Alabama?
Me: What?
Bo: They had a woo-uh.
Me: What's a woo-uh.
Me: Huh?
Bo (exasperated): A law.
Me: Ohhhh--you were saying rule. Heh. So, what was the law?
Bo: It was that black people had to sit in the back of buses and they couldn't drink from the same drinking fountain as white people, they had to drink from buckets.
Me: Yeah, pretty awful, huh?
Bo: It's gross. Buckets are full of germs.
Me: They are, and that was a completly unfair law, wasn't it?
Bo: Yeah. And also, you should never plant flowers with a bucket. You should always use a hose.
J: That syllogism needs some work.

Danyo: Awbeggidysasadio! Hahahahaha!

Any One Of Us At Any Given Time: hahahaha! Did you hear him?! He just said, 'Put that brush on the stove!" hahahahhaaaa!

Friday, January 9, 2009

Not Fair

Instead of commenting in the comments of my last post, I'd just like to say first: Omar inspired that post by making fun of noting my frequent use of the word "whatnot". My bloggy friends from August knew why, but I realized no one else did.

Nextly, I kind of felt a tinge of jealousy to hear how very many of you use nicknames/pet names with spouses.

And ergo makes me laugh.

So did most of the comments.

And for the record, I call my kids TONS o' nicknames. I'm breaking the cycle one crazy pet name at a time. But, I do sometimes say things I shouldn't. Like poopypants and tootsqueak. Just cuz those don't go over so well outside the home. Kinda like "Pig Dropping".

The background:
A few days ago Avee got into a lot of trouble for kicking me in a fit of anger. She was sent to her room where she wailed for quite some time. Normally the time out is each minute for however old the child is, but in my house, time out starts after you stop being obnoxious.

This made an impression so the kicking has ceased. She had a minor relapse briefly, and remembered the consequences mid-kick. She stopped and literally pet me with her foot. I let it slide because I'm all about rehabilitation and concerted efforts. Plus, I've wanted to kick a few people in my lifetime, I get it.

So she started hitting, since no-kicking was the official rule.

That was stopped. So she started pushing.

Today, I was on the phone with my cousin and I told Avee no about something and she pushed me. I said, "You remember what happens when you hit mommy?" and she says, "I didn't hit you, I pushed."

The conversation:
Mommy: You don't hit or push me, ever.
Avee: I didn't push eitho, I just touched you.
Mommy: Avee, if you put your hands on me when you are mad, you will get in trouble.
Avee: I'm not mad.

Me on the phone: Grrrrrrrrr. I can't win with this girl.
Cousin: (laughing at my dilemma with a THREE YEAR OLD)
Me: Her latest is to say, "You said you never wanted me to be sad, but you are making me be sad right now!" whenever she gets in trouble or has to do something she doesn't want to do.
Cousin: Wow, you told her that you never wanted her to be sad? That surprises me. That just doesn't sound like something you'd say.
Cousin: (Laughing at me again)
Me: I'm totally serious. She'll get me when we are snuggling and having a sweet moment and she'll say that I made her sad when I went to work, or other such thing that I feel guilty about and then I'll say in a sweet and soothing way, 'I'm sorry Avee, I don't ever want you to be sad' and in the moment I MEAN IT. And then she uses it against me.

Editorial Interjection: I sort of need Avee's manipulative way and ability to outwit me to be a burden and something I can't figure out. Any other way, requires accountability, and I'm not interested.

The Sad Truth No One Else Would Have The Nerve To Say To Me:
Cousin (who has known me my entire life): It's just amazing how much of you has already shown up in her, isn't it?

I call a FOUL!

Thursday, January 8, 2009


I had a roommate when I was 22 who had all sorts of verbal quirks. The first day we lived together she offered to make me a bagel. Which isn't odd at all. Except that she said, "Hey sweetcakes, would you like a bagel, I'm making myself one?"

And there was sugarcheeks.
And lovemuffin

And sweetiepie

And some other ones I've forgotten.

This was very odd. Growing up, we got called two things by our parents. Our given name. And our given name through clenched teeth. That was it. Even a natural nickname, like, say, "Nobo" instead of Nobody,for example. If you called my house and asked for Nobo, my mom would say, "There's no one here by that name" because we did not go by nicknames.

Even now, in my marriage---the pet names don't flow. One time, a couple of years ago I said something to J and added, "baby" to the end, just to give it a whirl. My easy-going husband snapped, "Don't call me a baby!" It was really funny to me---not so funny to him. I'm sorry baby, I'm not laughing at you....

Anyway, back to the roommate. She was quirky. I totally loved her though---I had to get used to her, but I really did like her. She also said a lot of other random things that I just didn't think normal people said.

But then, she was from Canada....(that was just for you Beckie)

One of those things was "whatnot". Regularly in conversation. It was funny to me every time. She wasn't the kind who said it to be funny. Some other things she said in normal conversation were: Inasmuch, therefore, nothwithstanding, and my favorite, what-have-you.

If you ever hear (or read) me using any of those words, I am most definitely mocking. But you can't know that if you only know me through this blog. But now you do.

It added to the flame when J had an employee that spoke in a slow drawl and ended everything he said with, "and whhhhuuuuut nooooot"

There are other words/phrases that I will periodically make fun of. I'm just not sure how they made it into or lasted in the English language.

Believe you me

FYI--oh yes, I use that too---it's totally obnoxious. Mostly because when people say it they are about to say something rude or condescending.

We ended up...

And don't even get me started on bertday and supposably.

What? Now I'm just being rude? I know.
I'm done.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Women Are NOT Half Elephant

Okay, PSA time again.

This has bugged me for some time. And it might show that I'm just not as nice as some as you may think I am. Or it may confirm what others of you have thought all along.

But this whole "Women are actually pregnant for 10 months" business is DRIVING ME MAD!!!!

I ran into a friend today who had a tiny little pooch of a pregnancy belly. She says, "I'm 7 months pregnant!" and my eyes bug out because she looked about 5. And then she tells me that she's due on April 3rd. Which is in 3 months. And I'm perplexed.

It's possibly that said perplextion showed on my face because she said, "right? 7 months? I mean, I'm 27 weeks?" And another friend of hers, standing right there, who also happens to be a nurse in the labor and delivery unit, says, "Yeah, absolutely, I mean, you're actually pregnant for 10 months." And I had to lift my hand up to close my mouth because REALLY I thought of all people to know that's not true, she would be one of them.

And quite possibly, half the people who are reading this will think the whole 10 month bidness is true.

Let me show you how it's not.

There is only one month in the entire year that can be counted in a 4 week increment. The rest of the months are more than 4 weeks. By nearly half a week! So, with every two months of normal length, a whole week is added. And in 8 short months, a whole 4 weeks are added.

If you know the day of conception, and do the math, it's actually more like 8 months and 3 weeks, when a baby is due.

For example, someone I know got pregnant on the first of September. And her baby was due May 25th. And then came May 22nd. Exactly 8 months and 3 weeks. And he weren't early either. He was a biggin'. Or so I heard.

So, of COURSE everyone is different. But not so different that you are pregnant an entire month longer than most people. (Unless you are my sister and give birth to toddlers) And 4 weeks does not equal a month.

Except in February.

And really? How much credibility does February even have? Not much. I mean, who else gets to willy nilly add a day, drop a day, make up a holiday to make men feel guilty and women feel lonely, etc? Seriously.

Could you please pass this information on to the women in your life?
In fact, if you pass this on to at least 5 will get a great surprise.
If you pass it on to 10....

it will be even better.
If you pass it on to 15....

you should probably look into getting a life.

It's not that important.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Today I Got It Together For the Last Time

When I was younger I used to wish you could shower once and for all. And eat once and for all. And go to the bathroom once and for all. Sometimes I guess I still wish that. Wouldn't it be nice to not have to deal with those distractions all the time?

Problem is, I do sort of eat once and for all. Regularly.

Which leads me to my next subject.

I haven't been to the gym in over 2 months. I had a couple of unvaliant efforts in those 2-3 months, but they are hardly worth mentioning.

Today, I got three kids dressed, and myself dressed.
I took 5 kids to school. Three arranged carpoolers and 2 extras who just show up.
I called 911 on a couple of people brawling outside one of the extra's jr high. I'm so bad. Halfway through the phone call I wanted to hang up because I just felt dumb. But it was a guy and a girl and that can't be good, right?
I went to the gym and swept back my mussed hair, smiled my pretty smile and asked to have my kids squeezed into the already full childcare center. "Full" childcare centers are for sissies. I could take care of 35 kids with one hand tied behind my back.
Then I caught up with all 2 of my friends who were there and noticed I hadn't been. It was fun to act like I was the one who had always been there, and where on earth had THEY been!?!
I used an elliptical and struggle with some Tori-style OCD and finally got off when a chubby man behind me started pacing and sighing.
Then I took my kids home and gave Avee the fruit snack bribe I promised to get her into the childcare center. She has not tolerance for marker nazis.

Dude, when did I get all linky-loo-loo? It just happened, honest. It wasn't planned and it will probably just be this once.

One of the girls in the daycare was pressing me for interesting stories from the ER. I was hesitant to share anything because I've come to the conclusion that I'm not going to be that person. First of all, my information is limited, but second of all, the hospital should be a safe place for people to go and not feel like their issues are being talked about at daycares. She kept pressing, so finally I decided to share the one story I had already shared on the blog. You know, sneezing girl?

Yeah. She went to school with her. Knows her name. Where she works, and why she sneezes.

I feigned narcolepsy so that I wouldn't have to answer her questions when she started saying, "does she have _____ hair? Was she about ______ years old? Was her name _______".

That was bad. I'll not make that mistake again. But just FYI, falling asleep at a daycare, while sitting in a baby chair, mid conversation---not all that believable.

Now I'm going to work on my water consumption, match some socks, and finish off the razzleberry pie....just kidding.

Sort of.

Monday, January 5, 2009

2009, Here I Come. Right Back Where I Started From.

I think y'all should be flattered to know, that this whole week while I was busy not blogging, I had a running dialogue going in my head for you. Even when I'm not here, I'm with you. Just keep that in mind next time you are writing out philanthropic checks and whatnot.

We just got back from Missouri last night. Danyo walked in and loudly exclaimed over and over to the laundry basket by the stairs and the shoe basket not far away and gently caressed the tv. I'm thinking he likes his routine and familiarity. He wasn't a spoilsport or anything, unless you call, refusing to take naps or go to sleep at night "spoilsport". He's my baby. I think it's the cutest thing in the world.

During this trip Avee got to spend time with her beloved Uncle Daybid. She cannot get enough of him, and has loved him from the first moment she met him. Bo got to spout his random facts for all who would hear. He learned about Harry S Truman during a donut run with Aunt S. She wondered if maybe she was giving him too much information as she started telling him about bombing Japan.* His dad has no such filter. Bo was of course, very interested. And quickly included Harry S Truman on his list of "things that make something way cooler than other things". For example, as we were driving out of town, "Mom, you know what's good about Missohwi?" Uh no. What? "It had Harry S Truman." And then a few minutes later, "You know what's bad about Iowa?" Yes, er, I mean, no.... "They don't have Harry S Truman."

Oh how I long for the days when my opinion of things was so simple. Somehow the words, crazy, apathetic, butt-cold, and freaking idiot driver, make more appearances in my opinions than say---Harry S Truman does.

Speaking of freaking idiot drivers, I only said that phrase 3 times this traveling escapade. I take that back. I said, it twice. One time I forgot the "freaking" and just said, "idiot". Avee corrected me though, so I was able to say it properly.


In other news, I got to meet my friend Sarah's two little boys. She's totally getting a line in my blog because she reads my blog faithfully and still likes me. And I'm sure the faithful reading has nothing to do with a late night desk job. At all. Her boys are very cute. I was a little jealous watching her 16 month old whale on pretty much every piece of food put in front of him. Danyo refused to taste a donut hole yesterday. He's sure that if I put it in front of him, it's gross.

I drove my van once.

I actually got SORE one night from sitting so long.

I got to spend time with my friend Jiffo.

I got to hang out with an old friend, whom I haven't seen in about 15 years. Saddest part about that is, I'm old enough to have a vivid recollection of people I haven't seen in 15 years.

I went to Denny's at 3 am. Yeah AM. What is that?! S, old friend, and me---we got hungry from all the uh....talking and sitting, so we went out.

I may still be paying for that decision, but it was totally worth it.

J was incredulous when I told him about it last night. Denny's? DENNY'S!?!?! I don't know what his problem is. Does think that Ruth Chris' is open at 3 am for three half-asleep, mascara smeared, drunk-talking ladies? And DO THEY HAVE MOONS OVER MIHAMMY!?! I think not.

Perhaps he was recalling THIS. (last coupla paragraphs)

I did this drive alone because the boss at J's job made everyone work on the 2nd. A Friday. How lame is that? What could be more lame? Oh! I know! The fact that J is the boss who MADE EVERYONE WORK ON FRIDAY. Ahem. I'm done.

So, I have to say, the trip was downright manageable. Avee and Bo are great travelers. Danyo's pretty awful, but I've been around worse---so I won't complain too much. I kept him happy for one whole hour of the trip by simply holding his toes, on the foot that I could reach. Yeah, my right shoulder aches and I'll probably need reconstructive surgery or something---but he did not scream that entire hour.

The highlight of the long weekend for J was only having to clean the house once, the entire time we were gone.

The lowlight was not having me around.

I believe the two are mutually exclusive though.

As I returned home this morning from dropping Bo off at school (he wondered if he'd missed two days of school or 3---when I told him he'd been gone 2 weeks and that everyone had been gone----he was a little shocked by it all) I walked into my house that has clothes and suitcases and Costco rice bags and Christmas toys and a giant container of cheese balls and I felt mildly overwhelmed by all that needs to be done. I also felt immediately at home, and happy to be back in my routine. If you can call what I do routine. I think you'd be very hard pressed to do that, since routine implies some element of structure and typical or regular. I'm pretty much the antithesis of all three of those things.

Cheesepuff anyone?

Happy New Year!

*During one of our gas stops Bo saw an Asian man and whispered loudly, "There's a Japan man, do you think he knows it was Harry S Truman who did that?!"

And that's when it's too much information for a 5 year old.