Sunday, March 30, 2008
That was my time in this weekend's 4K race. Which totally astounds me cause not but 10 months ago I was wheezing when I walked for more than 20 minutes at 2 mph.
The fastest I could do on a treadmill was 33 minutes 12 seconds so I am thrilled that I was able to cut down my time by a whole 5 minutes!! It's really miraculous because the road is always harder than a treadmill. Plus, it was cold. Plus, it was a windy day and at times the head wind was so strong it felt like someone was standing in front of me pushing me back.
This is my second race and I've learned a few things.
1. Ignore all of the hard core runners. They will make you feel like a fat tub of lard.
2. Never forget to double tie your laces.
4. Don't drink too much water before the race.
5. Sports bras make you look like you have a uni-boob.
6. Good tunes make all the difference.
7. There will always be more hills than you anticipated.
8. Running in the cold weather bites big ass.
9. There is no shame in being lapped by a 10 year old.
10. All that really matters is that you were there, you finished and you are still alive!
I'm really looking forward to the warmer seasons so I can get out and jog some more. Plus, there are 3 more races coming up and I'm very excited. It's so weird to me that I enjoy this sort of thing cause I've never enjoyed jogging or running and now....well, now a monster has been created!
Friday, March 28, 2008
As I was driving to a play date yesterday I passed a gas station and parked next to a gas pump was a 1980's style Trans Am. It was green and kept in perfect condition. And suddenly I was aware that I could hear Pat Benetar playing somewhere in the background and I had to adjust the sideways pony tail on my head by spraying it with a shot of Aqua Net. I was transported back in time. The feeling of nostalgia was so strong that I swear I reached down and my boobs were under my chin. It was like the car was some kind of visual time travel mechanism that sent me back to 1988.
Then I realized that it was just the XM radio playing the hits of the 80's and came back to reality. I looked in the rear view mirror and counted the kids. One, two, three. And then I checked my boobs and sure enough, there they were dangling between my legs. Indeed, I was back in 2008.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Today after I dropped Birdie at the bus stop, I decided to take advantage of the sunshine and take Bear for a walk. Spring has definitely arrived and it's my favorite season of all. Maybe it's because it's when my favorite flowers (tulips) bloom or perhaps it's the way the glorious sunshine seems to melt the cold from my face or how my lungs always spring to life with the freshness of the crisp air. Or maybe it's the chirping of the birds or how miraculous it seems that everything comes back to life after the long hard winter.
As I was walking through the neighborhood I noticed that several of my neighbors were making repairs to their homes; installing new siding, painting and landscaping. And I realized that the thing I love most about the spring is the feeling of rejuvenation that it brings. How a new generation of baby animals are coming out to greet the world for the first time and how the buds of colorful and fragrant flowers peek out from the flowerbeds with the promise of vibrant splendor.
The Spring also brings hope and a sense of a new beginning and I need that more than any other time in my life. This winter brought the death of my mother and a darkness and sadness that I can barely put into words. It was a feeling of complete and utter abandonment by the one person who always represented stability and happiness and love. Nothing can ever make her return to me but I can find solace in that every year God will bring her to me through the arrival of Spring. The sun will kiss my face with a warmth that only a mother could give. And the wind will blow gently through my hair as her fingers did when I was a child and the birds will wake me with their song in the dawn just as she always woke me in the mornings.
There will always be an emptiness as a result of her loss, but the Spring assures me that I can look forward to many sunny days ahead. And there is hope!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
But I didn’t really know what to write. It seems silly for me (a relatively young woman) to write something profound about aging. All I can write are things that I have noticed about aging. And the hopes I have for my own inevitable trek into my golden years.
1. Older people seem to have a quiet strength about them. An aura of confidence. I’m guessing this comes from experience and I can’t wait till I reach that point cause right now everything scares the shit out of me!
2. It’s important to take care of your skin and your teeth. I learned this from volunteering at a rehab facility for seniors. Hardly a day would pass when someone wouldn’t advise me to take care of my skin and moisturize my face. I inherited suple skin from my mother and the older women would look at me longingly and enourage me to stay out of the sun and moisturize, moisturize, moisturize!
The old men would take their teeth out and tell me that’s what will happen to me unless I floss everyday! Plus, did you know that the phrase "long in the tooth" came from people who didn’t value oral health and their teeth would grow long as their gums receeded due to gum disease! *reaches for the floss*
3. Natural is best. You don’t have to look hard to verify that we live in a world of plastic surgery; nips and tucks and collagen and implants and botox. There is nothing wrong with looking your age. It is who you are and no amount of time under the knife (or needle) is going to change that.
4. Men get better with age. Or so I think. Something happens to a man when he turns 35. They cross over that line from young man to manful man. Their voices seem deeper, their shoulders wider, their eyes wiser. And they look good with their hints of gray hair and crow’s feet defining their faces. Personally I think that men are their sexiest, their strongest, their most strapping between 35 and 55!
5. I’ve heard sex gets better with age. I don’t know this personally although based on my scanty experience I have a sneaking suspicion that this fact is correct. Sex in our youth is equivalent to a fast food meal from the drive-thru. Quick, messy, low quality and leaving you unsatisfied.
Just as with cuisine, when you get older you realize that it can be a whole experience. The atmosphere, the smells, the tastes and the skill with which it is all done. Cause there is a difference between a happy meal and a properly prepared filet mignon. Right now, my sex life is more like taking bites of what we can get here and there. A handfull of fries, a random chicken nugget, a sandwhich on the go or falling asleep in a bowl of soup. So, I’m looking forward to a time when I can actually take time to savor!
6. Apparently the people who work on Sesame Street never age. They have tapped into the fountain of youth because these people have been working there long before I watched the show and are still on the air. AND THEY LOOK THE SAME! At first I thought they might be re-runs but then I checked the copywrite dates and they as recent as 2007. Can you tell me how to get, how to get some of that magic anti-aging cream!!!!
Maybe the Sesame Street people have the right idea. Always keep learning new things and never stop thinking like a child!
Friday, March 21, 2008
Howie: "I can't believe that chick got voted off of American Idol. I really liked her."
Me: "I know, I thought it would be that Christy girl, she definitely needs to go home."
Howie: "Yeah, she....*looks around*....she...*spells out the letters* S.U.C.K.S!!!"
Birdie: "What does 'sucks' mean?"
Us: *wide eyes*
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Last night I started my first official yoga class. I have been doing yoga at home with a video tape (man, that sounds kinky) but I decided that I should just go for it and take a real class.
They offer classes through our town parks and recreation department and they meet at town hall except last night they changed it up a bit, just to confuses newbies like me, and decided to have it at our local senior center which is a few buildings away.
I was late cause Howie’s meeting ran long so I drove there as fast as I could and ran into the building in the pouring rain except it wasn’t the right building so I had to book it to the senior center. I could barely breath after my sprint up a flight of stairs into the building. But the damn place was dark and the only person in there was this old woman who scared the shit out of me when she popped around the corner out of the darkness.
"Excuse me, can you tell me where they are having the yoga class."
"Hmmm, you know, I’m not really sure."
"Okay then, I’ll just look around. Thanks!"
"You know, you probably could use a Tops class, come and join us."
*Giving her the stinkeye and the silent treatment*
(For those of you that don’t know, Tops is a weight loss support group and yes I could use it but why the hell would you tell me this seeing as how you don’t even know my first name not that I look too kindly on people who know my name telling me that I’m fat) But anyway... since I’m always polite to my elders...
"I appreciate that but I really want to try this yoga class."
I pretty much ignored her after that and was calling her names under my breath as I turned to leave. I figured they might be having the class down in the newly refurbished basement so I opened the door to the stairwell and hurridly ran down the stairs. The door at the bottom of the stairwell was locked. Well shit. So up the stairs I go and when I get to the top of the stairs I immediately started having a panic attack cause the upstairs door was locked too!!!! I was locked in the dark stairwell!!!! Alone!!!! In the DARK!!!! Did I mention it was DARKKKKK!!!!! I knocked. No answer. I screamed. No answer. By this point I was hyperventilating and thinking that I was going to have to spend the night there (alone in the dark) and when people would find me the next morning I would be curled up in a fetal position in the corner of the stairwell with glossy eyes and a crazed look on my face. Mostly cause I would have breathed in a whole nights worth of moth ball and Ben Gay fumes!
I knocked some more and jumped up and down and almost started to cry when the old woman, who owed me anwyay thanks to her remark, saved me. Suddenly I wasn’t so angry with her anymore. In fact I was so glad to see her that I threw my arms around her and thanked her for saving my life. And then I contimplated going to her Tops meeting since she was alone. You know, as a gesture of gratitude. But then she mentioned that I really should try Tops cause it "would help me with my weight problem" and I changed my mind. "Thank you, have a nice evening", I say *twitch*.
I walked around the side of the building and eventually found my way into the yoga class which was already 15 minutes in. And I had a hard time relaxing. Something about being insulted and having your life flash before your eyes kinda does that to a woman!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
From Associated Press: MSNBC March 12, 2008
"CHICAGO - Treffly Coyne was out of her car for just minutes and no more than 10 yards away.
But that was long and far enough to land her in court after a police officer spotted her sleeping 2-year-old daughter alone in the vehicle; Coyne had taken her two older daughters to pour $8.29 in coins into a Salvation Army kettle.
Minutes later, she was under arrest — the focus of both a police investigation and a probe by the state’s child welfare agency. Now the case that has become an Internet flash point for people who either blast police for overstepping their authority or Coyne for putting a child in danger."
The article goes on to describe how it was sleeting outside and her daughter was asleep so she parked the car, put her blinkers on, locked the car and stepped 10 yards away to make a donation and take a few pictures of her other children making their donations. She never once had the car out of view or went into the store. She was getting back in her car when an officer arrested her for endangering her child.
I totally understand where this mom was coming from. I don’t consider her neglectful. Leaving your child buckled in their car seat while you step a few paces because you don’t want to get them wet is not the same as leaving them in the car while you run into the mall because you don’t want to be bothered to take them in. The intentions are completely different and it’s unfair that she is being lumped into the same category as parent’s who leave their children in a car with windows rolled up in the middle of July! This is not something that I would do on a regular basis, but who hasn’t been faced with a similar situation. I don’t take the kids out of the car when I pump gas. The other day when I went to pick up Ellie from her apartment I parked the car right in front of her building and walked a few paces to open the vestibule and let her know I was there. I was within arms reach of the car but technically I left them in there. This stuff just happens.
I acknowledge that many accidents happen when a child is in a car and they should never be left attended but are they considered unattended if the mother is a few steps away?
So they arrested this mother, who is clearly a good mother and now she faces up to a year in prison. Cause you know, that’s the BEST for the children...to take away their mother, their nurturer, their security. Imagine if you were under scrutiny for EVERY decision you made as a parent. I know personally, I do the very best I can to be the best parent possible. I try to keep them safe, to protect them in every way but I know I make mistakes. Who doesn’t? And is it really technically a mistake if she thought she was doing the best for her daughter?
So according to the arresting police officer, children are never supposed to be inside of the car if the parent is outside. How many times have I gone to the bus stop and left Bubba and Bear sitting inside watching Baby Einstein while I brave the elements and get Birdie off the bus?? COUNTLESS! I am never more than about 5 steps away from the car but according to this policewoman I am supposed to unbuckle both of them and stand them outside in the rain or snow while they each have a raging ear infection and snot dripping down their faces?? Yeah right! Yes, it is a pain to drag them both out but my ultimate decision to leave them in the car is based on them not standing in the freezing cold when they could be cozy in the warmth of the car.
I think that people are just getting WAY too oversensitive and are overstepping their bounds when it comes to telling parents how to raise their children. Yes, there are clearly cases when children are put in danger and of course there should be actions taken to help those parents and children to make sure that the kids are always safe but in an instance like this, no. Was this woman arrested because she was actually putting her child in danger? I don’t think so. Like I said there are many parents out there who are crap parents. But the rest of us are doing the best we can. And there will be times when we have to be able to make those kinds of decisions for ourselves and for our children. I think the police woman should have gone to the mother asked her the situation, explained to her that she is not allowed to be away from the car at any point and then made sure the child was okay. This is ALL that was necessitated. To arrest her and make a spectacle out of her is a complete abuse of power!
What do you think? Do you think this mother was in the right or in the wrong? Have you ever made a similar decision? Were the police doing what is best for the child??
I’m all fired up, so please let me know what you think!!
Monday, March 17, 2008
Re: I love you little, I love you big, I love you all like little pigs!
Well, this month brought good news and bad news. The bad news is that you have a serious case of the talking backsies. You test me at every turn and there are times where you seriously take me by such surprise that I stand there staring at you with a wide open mouth because I can't believe what you just said to me and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to yank your tongue out and drag it over a cheese grater. I've tried assorted methods of punishment and you seem unphased by them all although you did threaten to run away the other day after a forced solitary confinement. You said you were running away to Florida and asked to borrow some cash for a plane ticket. Yeah right. I'm still saving up the money for when I run way!! If anyone's busting out of this frozen wasteland it's gonna be yo mama. Sorry kid! Also, I have to make note of this make-up business. I will not negotiate with you anymore. I said no make-up until you are a teenager and it doesn't matter how many times you try to break me, 12 will not happen, no way to 11 and over my dead body at 10. But I will compromise and you can wear chapstick. Trust me, natural beauty is best! In good news, you have been exceptionally sweet this month. Honey, I was so grateful when you took care of me when I was sick. I was sprawled out on the family room recliner and you must have noticed how pathetic I looked cause you asked me if I was okay and I told you that I was feeling miserable and without any provocation you brought me a blanket, a glass of water and a Vick's lozenge. Then you stood next to me and ran your fingers through my hair until my whole body turned into goo and drool started dripping from my mouth. You did the same for Bubba when he was sick. You offered up your favorite Dora The Explorer couch, brought him a pillow and blanket and read him a story until he drifted off to sleep. Then you wiped his nose and kissed him on the forehead. You didn't know that I was watching but I can't remember seeing anything so beautiful. You are unbelievably compassionate and loving and it makes me so proud. You've always been so tender hearted, it's one of the first things that people notice about you. You were even awarded a choice award from your teacher for being extra helpful to a little boy in school. He has problems understanding and is often times picked on by other kids. When others knocked him to the ground and he lost his coat, you got it back for him, helped him up and took him to see the school nurse all the while holding his hand. You will never go wrong by helping other people, Birdie. That big heart of yours is one of the most irresistible things about you. You also say some of the sweetest things at the most unexpected times. The other day out of the blue you looked me right in the eye and said, "if I ever go to heaven I would rain down kisses all over you." I wondered what you were thinking of to make you say that but really it didn't matter cause at that moment I knew that you loved me. And you didn't just say that you loved me, you made it real and it shook me right to my core. I can't imagine ever being without you, my sweet girl. May you never, ever have to rain kisses to me from heaven but instead shower me with your smooches and squeezes every day, right here next to me.
It wasn't that long ago that I was wondering if I would ever hear your voice. If you would ever be able to tell me what you thought or wanted or needed. I longed to see your personality, your sense of humor, who you really are. At one point I thought it might not ever happen because it seemed that no matter what I did, you just didn't respond and you would look at me with a confused look on your face like you really wanted to understand me, to communicate with me. And then the frustration would set in and you would throw yourself on the floor and it would break my heart because even though you were right in front of me I couldn't reach you. It's only been 3 months since you started pre-school and the changes in you are astounding. You wake up in the morning and greet us and tell us what you want for breakfast (girlscout cookies) and often times pick out your own clothes (anything sporting a dinosaur). This month you started dressing and undressing yourself and making noticeable progress in the potty department although you cannot for the life of you figure out why in God's name I would want you to defecate in a bowl full of water. In a diaper, on the floor, in your underoos...all acceptable places but a bowl full of water, that's just uncivilized! You communicate and even though I still have a hard time understanding some things, for the most part I get it. I hear you, I see you and you are better than I ever imagined. You are one silly little boy with endless curiosity. Plus, you are just plain hysterical at times and I know that when you really get into your groove are going to have me laughing my ass off. The idea that you can come to me and ask for help or tell me that you would like a snack or that your sister is flicking boogers at you. Those things mean that you are here with us, you have a voice and want to be heard. Thank God for that! Thank God that you have been able to climb out of the darkness so that I can see your sparkling eyes and intoxicating smile! You are also turning into quite the little ladies man with the playdate girls. Keep your hands to yourself you little Cassanova! Those hugs and kisses belong to one woman and one woman only, ME! There will be plenty of time to sew your wild oats when you are, lets say.....40!!! Until then, may you only have eyes for me :-)
You are totally bi-polar. One minute you are sweet as can be. A babbling, clapping smiley little bundle of happiness. The next minute you turn into demon child with blood curdling screams. Your face turns red and you stiffen your body, clench your fists and shake all over. Then something will catch your attention and you will be all rosy cheeks and giggles. You are totally rounding into the terrible twos even though technically the big 2 is still months away. You despise the word "NO" and at the mere sound of the word even if I try to say it as pleasantly as possible, you will throw a knock out, drag out tantrum. And people don't believe me when I tell them this because while I'm regaling tales of how you banged your head against the wall or tried to bite the flesh from my shoulders you are sitting there with a giant smile showing all of your gorgeous white teeth and pretending that you are sweet. When in reality those same teeth not but 20 minutes before were lodged in my leg after I told you that you couldn't eat aluminum foil. Speaking of eating, I don't know what I fed you but you have been going through a huge growth spurt. You've completely bi-passed the 18 month clothes and headed right for the 24 monthers. Except you are skinny and tall so while the pants fit you length wise, they fall right off of your waist. Great...another child who necessitates adjustable waist bands because your legs are twice the length of your body! I'm definitely looking forward to spring and summer so that I can just throw you into a onsie or pair of 12 month shorts. By the time fall comes you will be in 3T pants anyway so there is no point in me going to spend more money on clothes. And it's not like you really want to wear clothes anyway, you would be happy to wear nothing but your winter coat. You are completely fascinated and obsessed with that damn coat and I've had to hide it from you or else you will wear it all day long. And there you are eating and playing and sleeping in it with sweat dripping down your face but still refusing to take it off. You know which closet we keep the coats in and you'll stand at the door looking longingly at it trying to will the door to open so you can get your ever so precious coat which is completely filthy since I haven't been able to pry it way from you for more than a few minutes at a time. I have an especially hard time getting the coat away from you now that you are walking. You've gone from teetering to walking to running sprints across the room to keep me from putting your coat outside of your reach. But you look so completely adorable walking through the house with your little heiny shaking side to side and your hair bouncing as you chase your brother and sister.
All in all it's been a great month. A month full of milestones and special moments. I know that I often complain about you guys and frankly it's with good reason cause you can be a trio of TROUBLE! But then there are times when you all make me feel like the luckiest mom in the whole world. The other night when Daddy and I put you all to bed we watched you all cuddle down in your beds with your books and sippie cups and lovey toys and after all the hugs had been given and the kisses swept across your faces we stood in the hallway, smiled at each other and said, "how did we get so lucky to get the best kids in the whole world". And you are. The most beautiful, wonderful, sweetest gifts we could have ever asked for!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
I went to a juicing party with the mom's club the other day. We juiced apples, pears, carrots, grapes, strawberries, oranges and the kitchen sink. I wasn't totally sold on the idea of putting all of those things together but I have to admit. It was delish; sweet, refreshing and tasty. I was really surprised that I enjoyed the carrot juice. I love carrots but only to a certain extent. Like I would maybe have a one night stand but never marry one. Cause they are just not my type. But juice that baby up and I just might have to change my mind!
Now I have it my head to buy a juicer. They are a tad expensive so I will have to save up. It's worth it cause I have a sneaking suspicion that we could have tossed in a pair of old sneakers and that juicer would have made them taste good!
Monday, March 10, 2008
It's been weeks since a rank odor has invaded our kitchen pantry. We don't keep anything that spoils in there, not really. Unless you count the rock solid brown sugar that was forgotten years ago. I see it every time I open the pantry door and I keep meaning to throw it out. I don't have a clue why I haven't don't it already. It's not like it would take a load of work and effort to pick up the damn bag and toss it in the garbage.
Anyhoooooo, I searched the pantry from top to bottom to locate the source of this foul and mysterious odor. I took everything out; the food, the George Forman roaster, the basket where I keep recipes that I never use, the box filled with batteries and flea and tick medication. I wiped down shelves, swept, mopped and even disinfected. (By the way, even though I cleaned the closet thoroughly I still didn't throw out the brick of brown sugar). Even after the cleaning it was still funky. I finally just came to terms with the fact that my food closet was going to smell like a rotting dead animal left to die in the sewer in the middle of a Florida August. I kind of got used to the smell although every once in a while I would catch a wiff and the hairs in my nose would singe and my stomach would turn.
So, the other night there was this terrible wind storm around these parts. Howie and Bubba had gone to see the Monster Truck Jam and the girls were asleep. I was freaking out cause the house was creaking and it felt like at any moment the roof was going to be ripped off or a tree would smash into our room. I was also terrified that the power could go out any second so I decided to surround myself with a few candles just in case. I went in search of matches or lighters but ever since Howie quit smoking he rid the house of any instrument that might spark a flame. I dug through drawers and cabinets and boxes until finally I cam across a small flashlight. It wasn't much and was half way out of batteries but I figured it would be enough light to see my way to the bathroom if I needed to pee.
I decided to replace the batteries and was appalled at what I found hidden in battery/flea and tick drawer. A liquefied potato. Apparently the potato had fallen out of a bag and landed in the battery bin where it was long forgotten and sat rotting until it completely dissolved into a pile of mushy rancidness that made me want to vomit.
I cleaned out the bin with Clorox and viola! No more foul and mysterious odor. Now if only I could find out what is making the playroom smell like sweaty pig feet!
We babtised Bear yesterday. And she looked and behaved like a little angel. All of the kids were extremely well behaved. Yes, it was a Sunday miracle. Not only were they good in church, but they didn't behave like a pack of wild animals when we took them out to eat afterwards! Praise Jesus!
During the ceremony the deacon asked if we promised to raise our daughter in the Catholic faith. We said yes, but I felt a rush of guilt seeing as how Bear is 16 months old and it was the first time she's ever been inside the church! I usually only take Birdie with me when I go but I haven't been to mass since January! Yeah, not exactly a shining example. Not to mention that Howie isn't really even Catholic. When we became members of the church we lied and said he was. I know, I know...it's just a matter of time before we are tossed into the pits of hell for lying to the church. Add that to the fact that Bear's godfather is a wayward Catholic with agnostic tendencies and it's a miracle that fire and brimstone didn't rain upon us at the altar!
But we all promise that we have good intentions. Even if we aren't always holy exemplifications of good catholics.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Howie: "What do you feel like eating?"
Me: "I don't care, you pick."
Howie: "I don't feel like it, you pick!"
Me: "I cooked all week. And planned the menu. It's your turn."
Howie: *thinking intently* "I don't know...please, can you pick? I'll give you three choices and you pick one of them."
Me: *sigh* "Fine."
Howie: "Okay...Mexican, Japanese or Italian."
Howie: "Nah, I want Burger King!"
Me: *twitch, twitch*
I swear sometimes the man makes my brain spasm.
Friday, March 7, 2008
After lunch we finished up our shopping and Howie suggested we buy some eggs. He says, "well these eggs come from vegetarian chickens which means you can eat them!" He knows that it kills me not to be able to eat eggs on my vegan diet. "Whatever", I say.. mostly ignoring him and rolling my eyes. It wasn't till we got home and were unloading the car when I noticed he wasn't trying to be a smart ass about the eggs, he was just reading the carton!
Not the chickens that laid my eggs. They apparently stuck to the veggie burgers!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
When I went to the Y this morning it was pouring sheets of rain and the wind was making my van sway from side to side. By the time my spinning class was over there were crews of Connecticut Light and Power workers repairing damage from fallen trees. It was still gloomy and rainy most of the morning.
But then the most amazing thing happened. The sun came out and I was all, what is this bright ball of light up in the sky? It had been so long since I had seen the sun that it seemed unnatural. It beat down on the back of my neck as I was standing at the bus stop and the warmth poured down my body and it made me weak in the knees. Then I heard a bird chirp and it was the sweetest sound. It made me want to take a walk and plant some flowers. I'm desperate for the Spring. I think I'm so deficient in vitamin D that my brain is starting to malfunction!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
I swear Birdie's mouth starts going from the second she wakes up in the morning and does not stop until she goes to bed. By mid-morning my brain is weak from exhaustion and every time she says something it feels like my head pulses in pain and I want to drown myself in a sink-full of greasy dish water!
She keeps repeating sentences in different forms, I swear just to hear herself speak. "Come over to the table, mom", "you can come over", "the table is here waiting for you", "I'm waiting here at the table", "come here where I am waiting for you", "at the table is where I am", "are you coming yet", "mom, I'm waiting for Yooooooooouuu!" All of this in the 30 second span of time it takes me to pee.
At this point my ears start to bleed and my brain shuts down and I want to crawl into a dark corner, cover my ears with my hands and rock back and forth.
"Can you please turn your voice off for a few minutes, Birdie?" To which I get a 10 minute explanation as to why she must talk or else her head will explode because the words in her brain will have nowhere to go and she will just die and I will be the cause of all her pain and suffering so I ought to just listen to what she has to say cause it's important.
Sometimes she repeats what she hears on commercials. The other day she was walking through the house talking about how to reduce high mortgage closing costs. "And all it takes is a few short steps to make your dream of being a homeowner come true!", she says. "In just four easy steps, you too can be on the road to financial freedom!". She says it with such enthusiasm and authenticity. I find myself wanting to ask her how to reduce high interest rates or where to invest our tax return. But then I remember that this is the same person who tries to stick pennies up her nose.
Other times she just sings. Incessantly. She only knows one verse of most songs and will repeat it over and over. Just that one verse. Over and over until I get dizzy and hope that when I finally fall down I will land on a fork that will shoot straight through my heart and kill me instantly. Sometimes she knows the song but randomly substitutes words here and there and no matter how many times I try to give her the right words she insists that she is right. I try to enlighten her by telling her I'm a lyric expert. I used to be quite the karaoke singer down at the local Benny Hana's but this doesn't seem to impress her cause I apparently only know "dumb songs". She's only 5 but when I listen to the all 80's channel she scrunches her nose in disapproval and tells me that I'm old.
I think that I could probably rent her out to government agencies and military as a pretty effective means of torturing criminals and terrorists. After half a day with her they will most likely beg for mercy or commit suicide by strangling themselves with their own hair or holding their breath until they pass out. They are sure to give up the goods simply to earn the privilege of not being trapped in the same room with her.
As I type this she is talking my ear off. It's only 10:30 am but I think I've already earned a scotch on the rocks!
We have a "Liberty Tax" business in town and every year around tax season they have this poor guy dressed up in a statue of liberty costume who stands in the middle of the street shivering from the cold. I'm sure his boogers have permanently frozen to his face and his testicles have been swallowed up so far inside of him that they are probably in his throat by now.
But he stands there. Day after day, waving to passersby and I can't help notice how chipper he is. What's he so friggin happy about? Doesn't he realize he's standing outside in subzero temperatures wearing a dress and covered in green face paint? I'm sure it has nothing to do with how much they are paying him for his services. It couldn't possibly be that lucritive.
This would not be a good job for me. First of all, while I am totaly an attention whore in many respects, that's not the case when I am out in public. Really I would much rather people pretend I don't exist at all, unless of course I'm crossing the street in front of their two story, gas guzzling SUV. Then I wouldn't mind if they would catch a glimpse of me so as not to leave me as road kill splattered across main street. It would take a lot of moxy to stand waving, looking like a complete idiot while people stare at you with disgusted looks, point and laugh or spit their loogies at you from their car windows.
I know it's a gimmick and yes I realize that if not for him I wouldn't even know that Liberty Tax existed, but it's not really great advertising. It makes it seem like their business is just a joke. I imagine that if I would go into Liberty tax it would be like a three ring circus. Someone would offer me peanuts and excitedly inform me that "you can just throw your shells on the floor"! As I'm standing in line a man dressed in a clown outfit asks me if I would like a balloon animal and I tell him to make me a jackass. And the guy doing my taxes would be dressed as ringmaster and say that my taxes would be done by "SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY".
Yeah, it doesn't exactly give me the warm and fuzzies.
I want my taxes done by the geekiest man in town. The kind of guy who is OCD and irons his socks. The guy who measures how far each of his tires are from the parking lines. The kind of guy who can find a way to deduct a butt implant as a medical expense. Yep, that's the tax guy for me.
Clearly Bear was born in the wrong decade. She should be a child of the 80's because she pulls off the "flock of seagulls" do pretty well, dontcha think?
Hey, it's not easy to look this fabulous! She spent half the night teasing and crimping and then flat ironing. Is it wrong that I am VERY tempted to spray her head with a can of hairspray, dress her in a jean jacket with leg warmers and take her out to the roller rink?