Thursday, May 10, 2012

And on a related subject, what am I supposed to do with him all summer?


Today was Sebastian’s last day of preschool before summer.

If you will recall, I was somewhat of a mess when he first started, but it actually ended up being … anticlimactic. 

I mean, the first few times I dropped him off I did feel a little sad and nervous, but I soon got over that when I realized I could do my grocery shopping with only one kid around, which was pretty nice even if that kid decided she had to open and eat everything I put into the cart, including a failed attempt at a bag of frozen broccoli just this morning.

Also it didn’t take long for me to stop dressing up(ish) on drop-off mornings or making sure I was wearing mascara.  Because even if the other mother’s couldn’t see me sitting in my car, I’m pretty sure they had special, intuitive powers that could detect when I had taken more time to fix myself up than usual.

(Ahem.)

And Sebastian went from this …



To this …



Those pictures break my heart a little.

But Sebastian was able to make friends and have a good time and I was left with no idea how he spent his mornings twice a week.  Yes, I would have loved to have a play-by-play, or even a little camera that I could peak in on from time to time and make sure he was listening when the teacher was talking instead of asking his friends if they like poop.  (Oh, you mean you don’t spend every conversation with your almost-4 year old discussing poop?  How boring.)

But I had to let him go and enjoy his preschool experience, even if that included strawberry milk every time he ate lunch there, which bothered me TO NO END BECAUSE HE LOVES PLAIN WHITE MILK.

And he did enjoy it.  Loved it, in fact.  And he enjoyed his teachers, even if his progress report says he had a bit of trouble paying attention instead of talking.  (Was anybody surprised about that?)

Plus I was rewarded for my many, many, many sacrifices with my very first school-made Mother’s Day present.  



Guys.

It’s just what I wanted. 


Monday, May 7, 2012

Apparently, Harry Potter pees on me

Alternate title: Conversations with Sebastian, Volume Two


Sebastian, tonight while I'm reading him a story before bed:

I don't pee on you, right Mommy?
 
Me: Um, no. No you don't.

Sebastian, giggling: Someone pees on you!

Me: ????

Sebastian, guffawing: Harry Potter pees on you!!

Me: I think I'd remember if that happened.


I don't even know what to say about this one. 



Thursday, May 3, 2012

The continuing saga of my love for Steven, in journal form

I am currently waiting for time to pick up my husband from work, the same husband who has been out of town for days but decided it would be best to just go straight back to work when he got back in town instead of coming home to say hello because he 'didn't want to confuse the children.'

I am not thrilled with this situation, but it's probably for the best because I more than likely would have spent that small amount of time trying to guilt him into blowing off work to stay home and take care of the kids so I could nap.  Not that he would have anyway, because his work ethic is something beyond anything I've ever seen.  But I would have tried.

So I've only got a little bit of time before Adele wakes up from her nap as I spent most of the time I had making apple turnovers.

Why, you ask?

Why not, I say.

(Actually they're for a get-together I'm going to tonight, but I actually can't ever think of when apple turnovers wouldn't be a welcome addition the day.  Unless you're diabetic cause these things are LOADED with sugar.)

But since I haven't posted a journal entry in awhile, I thought it was time.  This one involves Steven, so I'm going to let his name stand.  I included three entries because I didn't want to leave you hanging on the question of whether or not he really, really liked me, which consumed my thoughts.

Oh Steven.  How much my little elementary-school self loved you.

(You can find the rest of my journal entries here.

............................................................................................

9-8-92 (11 years old)


❤ ed


STEVEN

(That doesn't do this entire page worth of hormonal angst justice.  Let's look at a picture.  Also, please notice how I wrote 'ed' after the heart.  As in, 'I loved him with all my heart and soul until he broke up with me and in order to work through my pain and also be technically correct in my journal because that's important, obviously, I will destroy my love with a hot pink pen.)



I don't really know if Steven really likes me.  On the 4th Jacinta said Jag said he only went with me because he liked my hair.  I don't really believe her.  I don't believe her.  I think she's Jealous (actually underlined that THREE TIMES but I didn't know how to do that on here.) with a capital J.

I think she doesn't think Stephen would ever go with someone like me.  I think she still hasn't gotten over him.  You see, she was going with him & he dumped her & he hated her afterward, or so she said.

..............................................................................................

9-9-92

I really wish I knew if steven really liked me.

................................................................................................

9-10-92

Well, I found out if he liked me or not.  Steven broke up with me to go with Sasha.  I guess the worst part is he had Brayley come and tell me.  It really got me mad, but now, now I am overjoyed.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy about Steven, Sasha, or brayley.  I'm just happy.  I'm in love with life.

Today is a day to die for.  The sky is a light-blue color.  The wind is blowing quite peaceful, not enough to get cold.  I can't see the sun from where I'm at, but I'm sure it is a pale yellow shining bright.  I'm starting to get a chill.  After I get done writing, I'm going to do my homework, out on the roof where I am.  It's been about 40 minutes since that last sentence.  I've been talking to Jade.  Her mom is practicing singing in a band.  One of the singers son is there.  his name is Michael.  He is 13 years old, & has red hair.  I haven't seen him, but I think he might be cute. 

(I've always had a thing for red headed fellas.  Or gingers, if you will.)




Tuesday, May 1, 2012

I've been tagged! But not in an STD way.

Guys.  Yesterday was one of those days that began with fighting with the 3 year old over breakfast and ended with me guzzling two beers then trying on my wedding dress.  Interspersed throughout the day were various other disagreements, hair pulling, yelling, shouts of ‘you’re bad!!” from the 3 year old, and me scalding my thumb with broccoli soup.

It’s still red and sore and injured.

But I consider it a triumph of a day because I got the youngest to eat said soup by putting it in a cup and letting her drink it.

That means I win.

And in my defense, I tried on my wedding dress because it’s been in my parents’ house since I got married, six years ago this past Saturday.  I finally brought it home and it was just sitting there staring at me.  It doesn’t actually fit, but I was able to get it on and most of the way zipped by squishing my boobs up and almost out of the top.  Wanna see a picture?  Of course you do.



My mom sewed it for me and it was perfect.  I need somewhere else to wear it.  And some spanks.
 
But, the real point of this post is that I was tagged.  I mean, not in a bad way, like “She was tagged with the syphilis,’ or anything. 

(Wait, I’m not really up to date on my STD terminology.  Do you tag someone with syphilis?  Or is that just gonorrhea?

But anyway, I’ve gotten my first meme tag, from it’s so FUZZY!, who just happens to have the same first name as I do, spelled exactly the same way, which is kind of hard to come by. 

You should go say hi.  She’s written a kick ass zombie story.

And so to celebrate my taggedness, or my tagatude, if you will, I used a very bad STD joke.

Your welcome.

So here we go.

1.  Book or movie and why?
I’ve always been a book person.  I used to be a snobby, the-book-is-so-much-better-why-are-you-even-trying-to-make-a-movie-about-it person.  But over the years, and the more children I have (two. I have two kids, despite how that statement sounds.) the less time I have to read.  Actually, the less time I have to watch movies, too.  I do usually enjoy the books better, but I’m less annoyed at filmatic interpretations that don’t live up to the awesomeness that the book created.  The last time this happened for me was with The Help.  The book was awesome.  I loved it.  And when I finally saw the movie, I was disappointed.  But I knew that if I’d seen the movie before I read the book, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal because I wouldn’t know the difference.  But the movie left out so much that was in the book and felt a little rushed.  I fear that I’ve written more than anyone ever wanted to know about how I felt about this subject.

2.  Real book or e-book?
I think this is another one where I really don’t have a clear answer.  I also used to be the type that wanted the physical copy of a book in my hand.  But while nursing my second child I converted to a person that just loved being able to read a book one handed without said hand turning numb or without my already weak wrists aching.  And so yes, I do love e books.  But I still love the smell of old books and I’ll still probably buy hard copies.

3.  Funniest thing you’ve done in the last 5 years?
I can’t even remember last week so I damn sure don’t remember the funniest thing I did in the last 5 years.  But I love to laugh and I love to make people laugh so if you’ve been around me I’ve probably said something ridiculously funny, thus causing you to laugh really hard and almost pee your pants.  If you’ve had children recently and have lost a bit of bladder function because really, I’m probably not going to make you pee your pants if you’ve got superior bladder control.  Only if you’re a little incontinent already.

4.  Do you put yourself into the books you read/write or the movies you watch?
Only the pornographic ones.

5.  How would your best friend describe you?
A lovable dork with big boobs.  (I consider my husband my best friend.) Maybe.  Actually, I’d like to hear the answer to that one.  Friends who are reading this?  How do you describe me?

6.  Favorite kind of car and why? 
I … don’t really have one.  I would like a bigger car so my children aren’t so close to me and maybe I could drown out their screaming a little better.  But I do love the little mini coopers. 

7.  Would your choice of party be a catered meal or barbecue out back?
I think they both have their place.  Of course, my wedding reception food was barbecued pulled pork that my dad made, so I’m kind of partial to that.  Plus usually it seems kind of silly to pay for something to be catered that I could do myself.  So maybe if I had a lot of extra money just lying around, then I would have someone cater.  I would definitely like someone to clean up the mess.  That part sucks.

8.  What’s your favorite season and why?
I used to be a winter person.  Then I had kids and everything is just so much harder in the winter.  There’s the jackets and trying to keep them warm when you take them to the car because they’re not supposed to wear jackets in the car seats, and they can’t just play outside without spending about 35 minutes finding enough layers to keep their little hands from freezing, but it’s not like they leave the gloves on anyway so that’s probably a waste of time.  Plus I think I get a little depressed during the winter because I don’t see as many people and I kind of get closed off from adults.  So now I like summer.  And days that are warm enough to not need extra elements of clothing.

9.  What specific lesson have you learned – Spiritual, educational, occupational?
This question seems kind of silly.  Like, are you asking the only lesson I’ve learned in my whole life?  Or the most important one?  Or the one I like the best?  I guess I’ve learned that you can’t make people be your friends.  And that even if someone doesn’t like you, or doesn’t warm up to you like you’d like, it’s not your fault and stop thinking that there is something wrong with you.  It’s totally all them.  Bitches.

Also I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter what my children eat throughout the day, by the time they go to bed I will be wearing 87 percent of it.

10.  Besides writing, what’s your favorite thing to do when you get some extra time?
I would like to say sleep because that is what I need more of, but the truth is that I don’t usually take the time to nap whenever I do have free time, which isn’t very often anyway.  So I’ll say knitting.

11.  What’s one place you can be found at least one time every week?
Um … does my son’s preschool drop off count?  Because it’s between that or the grocery.

So now I tag people?  Is that how this works?  

Okay.  

Here goes.  

Jo Ellen, who doesn't really blog that often, but I would really like her to. 



Get on it ladies.