Ebb and Flow

While standing in Target watching my three year old daughter try on women's shoes, my thoughts went something like this:

Dude, she's been trying them on for 20 minutes. That's crazy. I can't believe I haven't tried to hurry her along once. Do other mother's do this? Because this is really boring. I think my brain's turning to mush the longer I stand here. But it's kinda nice of me to do this. She's having so much fun. That's nice. And it's not like we have anything else to be doing. I should get a gold star as a mother today.

Thirty minutes later, while standing near the exit attempting to convince the same three year old to put a bag of Cheetos back so we can leave, my thoughts went something like this:

This kid is on my nerves. How the hell am I supposed to back up any threats about dragging her out of the store with her 30 pound bowling ball brother on my hip? I need to watch Super Nanny more. I'm pretty sure she's never pinned a three year old against the checkout counter with her legs to prevent her from darting out the door with contraband Cheetos. I look like an idiot. I suck. She is so not getting any candy or expensive presents tonight.

Things That Make Me Happy: Survivor

I’m one of the three people in America that didn’t care when Friends ended. I also don’t set my DVR to record American Idol, Grey’s Anatomy or Heroes. For that matter, I almost spelled it “Gray’s Anatomy” instead of “Grey’s Anatomy” because that’s how off my radar that show is. I do however have an ongoing fascination with Survivor. I’ve watched all 14 seasons and I’ve only ever missed one episode. The night my nearest and dearest friend had a baby I called my husband from the hospital and told him to hit record on the VCR. He said he would then promptly forgot. I had to take a very deep breath to let that one go. Survivor makes me happy. Stupid smile on my face when I realize it’s Thursday happy. Don’t care if the kids tear the entire house apart while it’s on as long as they’re not screaming happy. Tom Westman is my favorite winner because he’s so freakin bad ass but still so nice and I figure he’d make a great neighbor. I think Amber only won because Rob got her there and then bitter losers robbed him of his victory. I think Rupert’s overrated and should seriously trim up his shaggy beard already. I loved the coconut blackberry guy and Richard Hatch and Johnny Fairplay and pretty much anyone prone to dramatic outbursts. They make for very watchable television. I enjoyed Rocky getting voted off last night. His level of drama is a bit much even for me. And he’s rude to people. Drama’s one thing but getting all kinds of mean spirited rude is another. I’m rooting for Earl. Because he’s funny and smart and would be fun to go to happy hour with. I enjoy plenty of other reality show crap as well including Amazing Race, Who’s Wedding is it Anyway?, America's Next Top Model and Flip this House. And I watch The Office. But The Office is neither a reality show nor crap. And Survivor's the only one out of all of them that genuinely makes my day better.

My phone rang

My cell phone rang yesterday for the first time since contact with my husband was cut off 4 days ago. It was not, however, my husband calling. I tried not to sound disappointed when I said “Hi” to my dad. Not having Scott here is lame. Not getting to talk to him is shock and awe. Our three year old daughter has done better than I expected. I thought for sure we’d have some crying. I mean, she’s been known to cry if water drips on her favorite skirt so crying over an AWOL Daddy isn’t that far fetched. But so far she mostly just repeatedly tortures me with lengthy discussions about whether he put his suitcase on the airplane and why he took a bus to the hotel. I play a message he left her on the answering machine and she talks back to the answering machine everyday not realizing it’s the same message from yesterday and the day before. At the end of the message he tells her, “Tell Momma I love her, too.” Last night Georgia immediately turned her head putting us nose to nose and said, “Daddy loves you, too, Momma.” I promptly gave her candy and bought her something expensive.

Pay less

When did Payless Shoe Source start charging $17 for a pair of toddler shoes? When did it become acceptable for their prices to go over $10? Because that’s what I’d like to pay. Because at $10 I’m okay with my 1 year old son having 6 pairs of shoes. At $17 per pair wacky cheapo paranoia creeps in and I'm debating a pair of shoes versus my kid's college education. But those are cute little boat shoes. And they have Velcro. I like Velcro. Sometimes Old Navy and Baby Gap don’t seem to understand the importance of Velcro.

Things everyone supposedly likes that I can’t stand

I don’t drink coffee or tea. I have wished many times that I did. For example, when I found out coffee is like zero calories. I’m in favor of pretty much any zero calorie product. Then, I found out tea has more caffeine than coffee or soda. I enjoy me some caffeine. Especially if I’m at my desk at 6 am. Unfortunately, coffee and tea both make me semi-nauseous. I’ve been talked into trying coffee flavored ice cream several times under the guise of “you can barely taste the coffee.” I always taste it. Which makes perfect sense because the makers of the ice cream wanted me to. That’s why they call it coffee flavored. My loathing for coffee has waned over the years though as a direct result of sitting near the break room at work. Quite frankly, the smell of coffee pales in comparison to the smell of burnt popcorn. I have to actually restrain myself from launching a witch hunt to locate burnt popcorn culprits in the office. Tea is the one that really gets me though. A Burger King once accidentally gave me iced tea instead of a Coke. Not noticing anything, I took a big swig. I had to stop the car right there in the parking lot, open my car door and spit it out. I’m not even a “spit out your car door” kind of girl. I just can't handle tea. It’s the leafy taste that gets me. No amount of milk or fruity flavor slips it past me. It feels like I'm drinking water that had leaves soaking in it. Oh, wait. I am. I also don’t like jams or jellies of any kind. Please don’t tell me about that one kind you found on vacation in some little bed and breakfast that’s so great and then send me some because I just have to try it. I had a friend do that and felt nothing but guilty when it tasted like every other jam or jelly I’ve ever tried. And I don’t like cheesecake. Or beer. Or pie. This is the part where my brother asks what kind of pie we're talking about. No, see, I don’t like any kind of pie. Except chocolate cream. But only sometimes and only if it’s heavy on the white creamy part and light on the chocolate and, really, I’d only want a bite or two even then. While you’d think my anti-pie stance might help me maintain my girlish figure, it’s actually been remarkably easy to make up for the lack of pie related calories in my diet.

Away

My husband headed off to some work related training over the weekend. It’s military-esque law enforcement-y hardcore stuff I guess. Two meals a day will be military rations and they’ll be doing 16 hour days 7 days a week. Last night they announced to his class that they’d be confiscating cell phones and no one could contact home for the next three weeks. I’m told it’s to recreate Hurricane Katrina-like conditions as that’s sort of related to what the training is for. Mostly, I think it’s to wreak havoc on my own personal existence. As it was, I cried when I dropped him off at the airport. Yesterday's surprise no phone call rule about did me in. Dumb old training. I’d like to know who the hell’s supposed to listen to my weekly post-Survivor wrap up now. They just did a tribal swap and that freak Rocky is still on there. And what about my ongoing obsession with who Dannielynn Stern’s father is? I need to worry about that kid at least once a week. Ok, and for real, now Elizabeth Edwards has cancer again and this time it's inoperable. That woman has a 6 year old and an 8 year old. And she already buried a 16 year old son. I'm a mother. She gets mad street cred with me just for getting through that. The whole thing's so sad. And how odd is it that her husband's presidential campaign has become almost frivolous. How can he become president now? And why would we want him to? Doesn't inoperable mean she's dying? How could that not be distracting to him? What about all the time he'll need to put in guiding those kids through the process of losing their mother? And is it wrong that I got lost part way through the Katie Couric interview sucked into some vortex of charm created by his pretty blue eyes and Southern drawl? Politics aside, how lovely would it be to watch him on the news every night instead of Bush? Sigh. See how much rambling I have to do? Do you see? But no one to ramble to.

Things That Make Me Happy: The Panty Man Photo

I keep this photo of my husband on our fridge. It’s been there for three years. I smile every time I look at it. I love the black socks. I love that they're pulled up so high. I love the thumbs. I love that he was dancing two seconds before I snapped the picture. This photo makes me happy. I once offered to send it to a friend after she told me she was feeling down and I couldn’t seem to cheer her up. I figured there’s no way she could look at that photo on a daily basis and not feel just a little bit better about life. Because that’s what it does for me.