Could the producers over at Survivor do America a favor and hand out sports bras to all the ladies? I realize their little "Let's drop them off with the clothes on their back right this very second" trick is kind of shocking and fun. But, honestly, watching that mud pit challenge with ladies without proper support was kind of sad. Chick that scored the first point last night did it without a top on. Which, if you're male, might sound kinda hot, but it's really not. Mainly because they blur it out. But also, because she didn't know and she's just trying to roll a ball and what on Earth. Give the chicks sports bras already.
I'm glad the wrestler chick got voted out. I'm not saying the other guy on her team, Dave, isn't annoying. Because, dude, way annoying. Not to mention bad people skills. But you can't vote your guys out. The other team has Aaron the mega stud and grave digger superhuman dude. You'll need all the help you can get to beat them. Plus, the wrestler chick was annoying to live with. That's always the kiss of death on Survivor. And so is wearing a bandana for a shirt.
The Office was also on last night. Can I get a boo-yah on Jim and Pam finally dating! So sweet! And they're not allowed to break up. None of that stupid Friends "we were on a break" crap. Memo to The Office producers: Think of something else to do with them besides breaking up. Have Pam get pregnant. Have Jim contract a vicious skin condition. Have leprachauns fly in a window and take the entire office hostage. Just don't torture us with random breakups.
And finally, the ultimate guilty pleasure, America's Next Top Model. The evil hags on there need to stop making fun of the girl with Asperger's syndrome. If you watch the show you know Asperger's is a mild form of autism that makes socializing very difficult. You would most likely know that from watching the show because they've beaten us over the head with that info about a million times. I wasn't rooting for her initially. I mean she's pretty and I definitely think she's overcome challenges. But everything felt a little too after school special-ish. Not that I have anything against after school specials. Watched plenty in my time. But I change the channel on them now. I'm anti establishment like that.
But last night several hags didn't have the decency to make sure Heather was out of earshot before they started trashing her. Suddenly I'm on her side. Back off, catty wenches. And I like how the Yale girl wants us to know she doesn't talk about Heather behind her back. Because that's wrong. It's okay, however, to sit there and listen to other people trash her without telling them to shut up. Very nice. Go, Heather! See, how committed I am. I've even learned your name. All the other brunnettes are still no name blurs to me. You go, girl.
9.28.2007
9.27.2007
Frazazzled
Things are hectic at work. My house is a disaster area. I served chicken nuggets for dinner the last two nights. And I lack the energy to get me out of the "I don't feel like doing anything" cycle. Last night, I didn't even bother to go through my kids' backpacks. Usually I look through for papers from that day or dirty clothes. Not last night. Didn't care. Figure they'll still be there tommorrow anyway.
I think I had a headache last night. I think I've been having trouble sleeping. I think I feel like there's too much to do and no time to do it. When my husband asked me what was wrong, I said I was frazazzled. Sort of frazzled but bigger and shinier. Like if someone took a bedazzler and attached little rhinestones to frazzled.
My husband had the wisdom to just nod and offer me Tylenol PM. He also had the wisdom to not ask if I was having a "wings moment." That's crazy husband code for having your period. You know. Now with wings! Give it a second.
I won't bother mentioning any of my crazy husband's other clever little euphamisms. In fact I sort of feel obligated to not make fun of him because that man went out and bought me flowers this morning and dropped them by my office. Flowers say I love you. Flowers at work say I want the whole world to know that you are loved. I've promptly assumed a less frazazzled demeanor. And that man shall have his back scratched this very night. And maybe I'll fold his laundry. My Thursday just got all kinds of awesome. And it'll only get better. Because tonight is Survivor. Followed by The Office. And The Office is all new! And Jim and Pam are going on a date. Or they did. Or who knows. Yeah for Thursday!
I think I had a headache last night. I think I've been having trouble sleeping. I think I feel like there's too much to do and no time to do it. When my husband asked me what was wrong, I said I was frazazzled. Sort of frazzled but bigger and shinier. Like if someone took a bedazzler and attached little rhinestones to frazzled.
My husband had the wisdom to just nod and offer me Tylenol PM. He also had the wisdom to not ask if I was having a "wings moment." That's crazy husband code for having your period. You know. Now with wings! Give it a second.
I won't bother mentioning any of my crazy husband's other clever little euphamisms. In fact I sort of feel obligated to not make fun of him because that man went out and bought me flowers this morning and dropped them by my office. Flowers say I love you. Flowers at work say I want the whole world to know that you are loved. I've promptly assumed a less frazazzled demeanor. And that man shall have his back scratched this very night. And maybe I'll fold his laundry. My Thursday just got all kinds of awesome. And it'll only get better. Because tonight is Survivor. Followed by The Office. And The Office is all new! And Jim and Pam are going on a date. Or they did. Or who knows. Yeah for Thursday!
9.26.2007
Stupid is as stupid does
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad spoke at Columbia University on Monday. He is the president of Iran. At the top of the list of things I dislike about his resume is that he refers to the Holocaust as a "myth." As recently as December 2006 Iran hosted a 2 day conference to discuss whether the Holocaust really happened. The conference was his idea. He apparently claims he'll believe it when someone proves it to him.
Just the fact that he thought a 2 day conference in Iran would convince him is ridiculous. Wouldn't traveling to the site of the Holocaust and touring a few museums be more persuasive? What is some dude that you invited to Iran going to say that is more persuasive than the pile of human hair at the Auschwitz museum? Or the giant pile of children's shoes or videotape or photographs or statements of survivors.
I think Ahmadinejad is wrong about the Holocaust. Obviously. And I think he's annoying. People that require proof of every single thing before they will believe anything are annoying. Because there aren't enough hours in the day to prove every single concept to every single person. Just imagine how long high school biology class would last if they attempted to prove every single thing. Occasionally you just have to roll with reputable sources and the evidence before you. And it doesn't seem like any amount of evidence is enough to persuade some people anyway. They claim photos can be doctored. They claim video can be produced on a movie set. Well, then, what would persuade you because we're fresh out of time machines to send you back to the scene of the crime.
I'm not saying you shouldn't question things. I support thinking for yourself. Denying the Holocaust just seems so stupid. I can't believe such a prestigious university actually invited him to speak. Why give him such a reputable forum? I know it's important to listen to all points of view. And I know it's important not to silence unpopular ideas. But couldn't we just let him give the keynote address at some neo-Nazi rally instead? CNN could still cover it. And we could all still have a good time chatting about what a nut job he is. I don't know. It bugs me.
Speaking of stupid ways of thinking, there's also Sherri Shepherd's recent comments on The View about not knowing if the world is flat because she'd never thought about it. It's called a globe. Has she never seen one? Was she absent the day they talked about Columbus back in fifth grade? And why would it require any thought on her part? Like she's some great thinker and she's going to apply her superior acumen to figure that out for us. Maybe while she's at it she can reinvent the wheel for us too. I hear wheels are pretty handy. Although I've never really thought about it so who knows.
Just the fact that he thought a 2 day conference in Iran would convince him is ridiculous. Wouldn't traveling to the site of the Holocaust and touring a few museums be more persuasive? What is some dude that you invited to Iran going to say that is more persuasive than the pile of human hair at the Auschwitz museum? Or the giant pile of children's shoes or videotape or photographs or statements of survivors.
I think Ahmadinejad is wrong about the Holocaust. Obviously. And I think he's annoying. People that require proof of every single thing before they will believe anything are annoying. Because there aren't enough hours in the day to prove every single concept to every single person. Just imagine how long high school biology class would last if they attempted to prove every single thing. Occasionally you just have to roll with reputable sources and the evidence before you. And it doesn't seem like any amount of evidence is enough to persuade some people anyway. They claim photos can be doctored. They claim video can be produced on a movie set. Well, then, what would persuade you because we're fresh out of time machines to send you back to the scene of the crime.
I'm not saying you shouldn't question things. I support thinking for yourself. Denying the Holocaust just seems so stupid. I can't believe such a prestigious university actually invited him to speak. Why give him such a reputable forum? I know it's important to listen to all points of view. And I know it's important not to silence unpopular ideas. But couldn't we just let him give the keynote address at some neo-Nazi rally instead? CNN could still cover it. And we could all still have a good time chatting about what a nut job he is. I don't know. It bugs me.
Speaking of stupid ways of thinking, there's also Sherri Shepherd's recent comments on The View about not knowing if the world is flat because she'd never thought about it. It's called a globe. Has she never seen one? Was she absent the day they talked about Columbus back in fifth grade? And why would it require any thought on her part? Like she's some great thinker and she's going to apply her superior acumen to figure that out for us. Maybe while she's at it she can reinvent the wheel for us too. I hear wheels are pretty handy. Although I've never really thought about it so who knows.
9.24.2007
A tiny sliver of the neurosis that enchants my husband daily
Yesterday, I had to travel across town for some work related training. I couldn't fall asleep the night before because I was trying to decide whether I should ride with a co-worker or drive myself. Riding along with the co-worker could potentially lead to schedule problems. I was concerned that those schedule problems could be a problem for my boss. Driving myself involved concerns about not knowing where to go and horrific traffic. I went back and forth. I even contemplated calling the aforementioned boss and just asking what I should do. Only that makes me seem nitpicky and unable to make decisions for myself. To describe these issues as trivial concerns is putting it mildly.
So then why did I lay in bed the night before unable to sleep while I pondered them? I never lose sleep over important matters. I never once in all my single girl days laid in bed fretting about finding a nice guy. I don't fret about paying for my kid's college education or what they'll be when they grow up. Those issues are just so big and huge. Worry does no good. So I never bother to waste my time. I'm nothing if not practical. But tiny little things can haunt me. Especially when they are up in the air. Because I'm not up in the air. I'm two feet planted on the ground. Head in the clouds occasionally. Head not watching where I'm going sometimes. But feet always on the ground.
Before going on trips, I make lists. Two of them. The first is all the stuff I absolutely think I'll need and can't possibly forget. Like a swimsuit when I'm going to the beach. The other list is all the stuff I absolutely have to do before I leave. Even stupid stuff like turn the alarm clock off. Because I once went out of town for a week and left my alarm clock on. It went off every morning at 5 am and my apartment had paper thin walls. I'm fairly certain my former neighbors agree the alarm clock should go on the list.
These lists let me go right to sleep. Because I know I've got things covered. I like to start the list a few days before the trip. Because if you make the list the night before the trip, you might just repeatedly startle yourself awake thinking up new stuff to add to the list. But if you start early that list will practically compile itself and there's no worries the night before.
But there was no list to make Sunday night. No list that would have worked out a solution to the world's stupidest conundrum. And besides, the only thing stupider than losing sleep over the world's stupidest conundrum is actually compiling some sort of list to try to sort it out. Because, seriously, what would I put on the list? How about, "#1 Read boss' mind. #2 Devise solution that does not make me look like a freak. #3 Put on deodorant." Maybe I could even alot time for each task. Although at this point I'd need roughly nine hours just to figure out how to cease and desist looking like a freak.
Updated 9/26/07 - In case anyone is wondering, I ended up riding with the co-worker. All the potential scheduling issues magically worked themselves out on their own. Further proof that it was never worth losing sleep over.
So then why did I lay in bed the night before unable to sleep while I pondered them? I never lose sleep over important matters. I never once in all my single girl days laid in bed fretting about finding a nice guy. I don't fret about paying for my kid's college education or what they'll be when they grow up. Those issues are just so big and huge. Worry does no good. So I never bother to waste my time. I'm nothing if not practical. But tiny little things can haunt me. Especially when they are up in the air. Because I'm not up in the air. I'm two feet planted on the ground. Head in the clouds occasionally. Head not watching where I'm going sometimes. But feet always on the ground.
Before going on trips, I make lists. Two of them. The first is all the stuff I absolutely think I'll need and can't possibly forget. Like a swimsuit when I'm going to the beach. The other list is all the stuff I absolutely have to do before I leave. Even stupid stuff like turn the alarm clock off. Because I once went out of town for a week and left my alarm clock on. It went off every morning at 5 am and my apartment had paper thin walls. I'm fairly certain my former neighbors agree the alarm clock should go on the list.
These lists let me go right to sleep. Because I know I've got things covered. I like to start the list a few days before the trip. Because if you make the list the night before the trip, you might just repeatedly startle yourself awake thinking up new stuff to add to the list. But if you start early that list will practically compile itself and there's no worries the night before.
But there was no list to make Sunday night. No list that would have worked out a solution to the world's stupidest conundrum. And besides, the only thing stupider than losing sleep over the world's stupidest conundrum is actually compiling some sort of list to try to sort it out. Because, seriously, what would I put on the list? How about, "#1 Read boss' mind. #2 Devise solution that does not make me look like a freak. #3 Put on deodorant." Maybe I could even alot time for each task. Although at this point I'd need roughly nine hours just to figure out how to cease and desist looking like a freak.
Updated 9/26/07 - In case anyone is wondering, I ended up riding with the co-worker. All the potential scheduling issues magically worked themselves out on their own. Further proof that it was never worth losing sleep over.
Dress shopping is practically therapy
It's strange to me that in the midst of recent gloominess my soon to be 4 year old's birthday is nearly here. It seems strange because time just keeps marching forward while I've been distracted. Not to mention blue. Two weeks ago I was busily crafting letters. Now I'm kind of off track and unsure of what's left to be done. I'm also unsure of what's left I actually care about getting done. I think maybe a little wind came out of my sails recently. For example, my mother asked me yesterday what day we'd be doing cake and presents since the soon to be 4th birthday falls mid-week. I said I didn't know. Normally I have these thing mentally planned out months in advance. Oh well.
I did manage to shop online for cute dresses. I don't normally shell out high dollar for my kid's clothes. I'm not tragically cheap or anything. It just annoys me that the clothes don't fit for long. It also chaps my hide when spaghetti falls right down the front. Having said that, I like a cute little something something for special occasions. Occasionally I even talk my daughter into wearing the cute little something something on the special occasion.
I love this dress very much. It's understated but cute and I'm thinking it could even do double duty as an Easter dress in the spring. Except they don't offer it in pink. I'm not sure why they even offer it in toddler sizes if they're not going to offer it in pink. Whatever. Gap didn't get the pink memo either. This dress is very, very cute. It's even on sale. However, the fact that it's $20 does not make it any less brown. My kid's not into brown.
Then I got a Mini Boden catalog in the mail and kinda sorta loved this fifties dress. I actually like it in blue. Mostly because I'm not three years old. Except, I'm sorry, does that say $56 dollars? That's crazy. Almost as crazy as the super cute hot pink funky duffle jacket I'm also sort of in love with. But, um, yeah, that coat's $88. No, really. $88. She'll wear it one year. I guess I could buy a size bigger and hope she can wear it two years, but I'm pretty sure it's a lot less cute when it's hanging off your kid like a tent. But it has toggle fasteners. Toggle fasteners are so cute they make me think I need at least nine more children just so I can completely surround myself with toggle fasteners.
No dress shopping for me would be complete without some Baby Lulu options. Ebay has always been very good to me for those as I'm too cheap to pay full price on them. I'm sort of partial to this one and this one. I'd also be willing to upholster my entire house in the English Tea line of fabrics. Baby Nay is also exceptionally cute. I'm sort of in love with their swing sets. I believe swing set is fancy baby clothes code for matching pants and shirt set. I'm torn trying to decide which one is the cutest ever. I love that this one has "Mod" in the title but this one actually comes in my daughter's size. Unfortunately, we're going to the zoo on her birthday and I can't figure out how I'd keep the seat of the pants from getting filthy. I feel that Baby Nay products may not be intended for use with zoo benches.
Although who says everything has to be zoo bench compatible. For example, this dress is so very, very pretty I'm willing to forgive and forget it's inability to withstand a zoo bench. For that matter, I'm almost willing to sell my first born child to be able to afford the $98 price tag. Except, if I sold my firstborn child to get the dress, who would be left to wear the dress. But you get the idea.
I did manage to shop online for cute dresses. I don't normally shell out high dollar for my kid's clothes. I'm not tragically cheap or anything. It just annoys me that the clothes don't fit for long. It also chaps my hide when spaghetti falls right down the front. Having said that, I like a cute little something something for special occasions. Occasionally I even talk my daughter into wearing the cute little something something on the special occasion.
I love this dress very much. It's understated but cute and I'm thinking it could even do double duty as an Easter dress in the spring. Except they don't offer it in pink. I'm not sure why they even offer it in toddler sizes if they're not going to offer it in pink. Whatever. Gap didn't get the pink memo either. This dress is very, very cute. It's even on sale. However, the fact that it's $20 does not make it any less brown. My kid's not into brown.
Then I got a Mini Boden catalog in the mail and kinda sorta loved this fifties dress. I actually like it in blue. Mostly because I'm not three years old. Except, I'm sorry, does that say $56 dollars? That's crazy. Almost as crazy as the super cute hot pink funky duffle jacket I'm also sort of in love with. But, um, yeah, that coat's $88. No, really. $88. She'll wear it one year. I guess I could buy a size bigger and hope she can wear it two years, but I'm pretty sure it's a lot less cute when it's hanging off your kid like a tent. But it has toggle fasteners. Toggle fasteners are so cute they make me think I need at least nine more children just so I can completely surround myself with toggle fasteners.
No dress shopping for me would be complete without some Baby Lulu options. Ebay has always been very good to me for those as I'm too cheap to pay full price on them. I'm sort of partial to this one and this one. I'd also be willing to upholster my entire house in the English Tea line of fabrics. Baby Nay is also exceptionally cute. I'm sort of in love with their swing sets. I believe swing set is fancy baby clothes code for matching pants and shirt set. I'm torn trying to decide which one is the cutest ever. I love that this one has "Mod" in the title but this one actually comes in my daughter's size. Unfortunately, we're going to the zoo on her birthday and I can't figure out how I'd keep the seat of the pants from getting filthy. I feel that Baby Nay products may not be intended for use with zoo benches.
Although who says everything has to be zoo bench compatible. For example, this dress is so very, very pretty I'm willing to forgive and forget it's inability to withstand a zoo bench. For that matter, I'm almost willing to sell my first born child to be able to afford the $98 price tag. Except, if I sold my firstborn child to get the dress, who would be left to wear the dress. But you get the idea.
9.21.2007
Nothing like crappy reality television to brighten your day
Today is a better day. Sometimes you just hope it will be and then it isn't. But today really is. It didn't hurt that I got to turn off my brain last night and watch mindless reality television for several hours.
First, I watched Dick win Big Brother. I personally would have voted for Danielle. But whatever. At least it wasn't Zach. Or Amber. But that's okay because Amber's going on America's Next Top Model anyway. Although she apparently missed the tryouts for the new season because I watched the season premier for that last night too. I couldn't tell much from the first episode except that they've got this season's mean girl all picked out. And maybe an underdog or two. I can't decide who I'm rooting for yet. Someone needs to tell Tyra to reign it in though. She continues to be under the impression that the show is about her. Her song and dance number wasn't cute. I hope no one told her it was. It was bad. And annoying. And the amount of makeup she wears seems to increase exponentially with every season.
Finally, last night was the season premiere of Survivor. I will forever consider that a personal favor from the universe to give me a little pick me up. Because I love Survivor. Not in a "I wish I could go on the show" kind of way. Because I'm both lazy and prone to complaining if the temperature goes above 72 degrees while I'm sleeping. My love for the show is more along the lines of "I wish I could send my husband on the show with detailed instructions and play Monday morning quarterback from the comfort of my pillow top bed." So far I like the grave digger. Although he's quiet so I figure he's screwed. I also like the Asian jewelry designer. Although she doesn't have bossy radar and seems unaware she's rubbing people wrong. But that's okay because the WWE wrestler is way more annoying. I feel confident her and her low cut top will get voted out soon. Hopefully the bleach blonde New York waitress stays forever though. Because, seriously, rolling your eyes at a Buddhist monk the first five minutes of the show tells me you're one to watch, girlfriend.
First, I watched Dick win Big Brother. I personally would have voted for Danielle. But whatever. At least it wasn't Zach. Or Amber. But that's okay because Amber's going on America's Next Top Model anyway. Although she apparently missed the tryouts for the new season because I watched the season premier for that last night too. I couldn't tell much from the first episode except that they've got this season's mean girl all picked out. And maybe an underdog or two. I can't decide who I'm rooting for yet. Someone needs to tell Tyra to reign it in though. She continues to be under the impression that the show is about her. Her song and dance number wasn't cute. I hope no one told her it was. It was bad. And annoying. And the amount of makeup she wears seems to increase exponentially with every season.
Finally, last night was the season premiere of Survivor. I will forever consider that a personal favor from the universe to give me a little pick me up. Because I love Survivor. Not in a "I wish I could go on the show" kind of way. Because I'm both lazy and prone to complaining if the temperature goes above 72 degrees while I'm sleeping. My love for the show is more along the lines of "I wish I could send my husband on the show with detailed instructions and play Monday morning quarterback from the comfort of my pillow top bed." So far I like the grave digger. Although he's quiet so I figure he's screwed. I also like the Asian jewelry designer. Although she doesn't have bossy radar and seems unaware she's rubbing people wrong. But that's okay because the WWE wrestler is way more annoying. I feel confident her and her low cut top will get voted out soon. Hopefully the bleach blonde New York waitress stays forever though. Because, seriously, rolling your eyes at a Buddhist monk the first five minutes of the show tells me you're one to watch, girlfriend.
9.20.2007
The only thing that sucks more than the hospital is the funeral
The funeral is done. I guess it was nice. The flowers were out of control. The people that spoke were wonderful. The place itself was lovely.
I couldn't really bring myself to turn around and look behind us so I have no idea how many people came. I mostly held my dad's hand and handed out tissues. Today I am drained. Drained of tears and sympathy and explanations for my three year old. Drained of my willingness to discuss the details. She died very quickly and it was awful. She wasn't my mother or my father but I had dinner with her once a week for like forever and I'm very sad that she's gone. I hope today is a better day than yesterday. I hope tomorrow will better than today. And I hope that someday after that things will start to feel normal again.
I couldn't really bring myself to turn around and look behind us so I have no idea how many people came. I mostly held my dad's hand and handed out tissues. Today I am drained. Drained of tears and sympathy and explanations for my three year old. Drained of my willingness to discuss the details. She died very quickly and it was awful. She wasn't my mother or my father but I had dinner with her once a week for like forever and I'm very sad that she's gone. I hope today is a better day than yesterday. I hope tomorrow will better than today. And I hope that someday after that things will start to feel normal again.
9.17.2007
More hospital rooms with flat screen televisions
Things are overcast here in my world. Overcast and generally gloomy. There was a death in my family. A significant enough death that it required sitting down with my three year old to explain what happened. I hope to someday forget the deep breath I had to take before I started. The first thing she asked when I was done was if I'm going to die soon, too. Beautiful. I find I have absolutely nothing funny to say on the subject. It's the high levels of awful sucking the humor out of my body.
The high levels of awful have not, however, robbed me of my ability to share a few hospital observations. First, I discovered that the flat screen television in my mother's hospital room several months ago was not an anomaly. Different hospital. Same flat screen. It's unfortunate when a hospital television is nicer than your own. Although, volume is a problem since the television is practically nailed to the ceiling. That wasn't a problem for my brother. He just tuned in the channel on his brain and didn't require volume. Even while Perry Mason was cross examining people. My dad and I however lack that skill so we decided to just let the entire floor listen to Tyra Banks with us.
Second, two small children running up and down the hall is really, really loud. Don't let you kids do that. People are trying to rest. What kind of parents are you anyway? It was bad enough when you made everyone listen to Tyra Banks during lunch.
Third, that Law & Order producer, Dick Wolf, must be a trillionaire by now. Is there even one hour of the day when one of his shows isn't on? My brother and I watched several episodes back to back. The only thing sadder than finding yourself watching them back to back is realizing you've seen the second one already and then watching it anyway because you've apparently been sucked into some black hole and can't look away even though you already know the wife did it and that she lied about being alone in Barbados.
Fourth, hospitals suck. Enjoy each and every day you have that doesn't involve a hospital. Life has a way of making sure you'll get plenty of hospital time anyway.
The high levels of awful have not, however, robbed me of my ability to share a few hospital observations. First, I discovered that the flat screen television in my mother's hospital room several months ago was not an anomaly. Different hospital. Same flat screen. It's unfortunate when a hospital television is nicer than your own. Although, volume is a problem since the television is practically nailed to the ceiling. That wasn't a problem for my brother. He just tuned in the channel on his brain and didn't require volume. Even while Perry Mason was cross examining people. My dad and I however lack that skill so we decided to just let the entire floor listen to Tyra Banks with us.
Second, two small children running up and down the hall is really, really loud. Don't let you kids do that. People are trying to rest. What kind of parents are you anyway? It was bad enough when you made everyone listen to Tyra Banks during lunch.
Third, that Law & Order producer, Dick Wolf, must be a trillionaire by now. Is there even one hour of the day when one of his shows isn't on? My brother and I watched several episodes back to back. The only thing sadder than finding yourself watching them back to back is realizing you've seen the second one already and then watching it anyway because you've apparently been sucked into some black hole and can't look away even though you already know the wife did it and that she lied about being alone in Barbados.
Fourth, hospitals suck. Enjoy each and every day you have that doesn't involve a hospital. Life has a way of making sure you'll get plenty of hospital time anyway.
9.13.2007
Proud Parenting Moments II
On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad it is to let your kid think the Elvis Channel on your Sirius radio is the kiddie channel? I changed the radio station at my three year old's request and Hunk of Burning Love was playing and, seriously, isn't that more fun for all of us than some stupid Wiggles song anyway? So I kinda sorta stopped the dial and kinda sorta let her think that was the kiddie channel.
Ok. Fine. So I didn't just let her think that. I actually answered "yes" when she asked if it was the kiddie channel. I know. Not great. But, see, she was already clapping and laughing. So she liked the song. And if I had told her it wasn't the kiddie channel, well, let's not even lie to ourselves that she would have agreed to like it even one more second. Because she asked for the kiddie channel. And if it's not what she asked for it is by definition less than acceptable. And it was early. And who needs the sky to fall right there in the car first thing in the morning. And, honestly, I was pretty tired yesterday. So my judgment was impaired by fatigue. So it's not really my fault. Because I'm a good person. And this was an isolated incident. And it won't happen again. Or at least not right away. And, Santa's a much bigger scam anyway. So there.
Ok. Fine. So I didn't just let her think that. I actually answered "yes" when she asked if it was the kiddie channel. I know. Not great. But, see, she was already clapping and laughing. So she liked the song. And if I had told her it wasn't the kiddie channel, well, let's not even lie to ourselves that she would have agreed to like it even one more second. Because she asked for the kiddie channel. And if it's not what she asked for it is by definition less than acceptable. And it was early. And who needs the sky to fall right there in the car first thing in the morning. And, honestly, I was pretty tired yesterday. So my judgment was impaired by fatigue. So it's not really my fault. Because I'm a good person. And this was an isolated incident. And it won't happen again. Or at least not right away. And, Santa's a much bigger scam anyway. So there.
9.11.2007
My husband laughs in the face of Tylenol
When my husband and I were first dating, we had a conversation about things we know we're especially good at. I always think it's fun to hear people evaluate themselves. And the more random and useless the skill the better. My husband didn't immediately grasp the concept of the game though. He attempted to tell me he's pretty good at everything. I explained that that was an incorrect answer. You're supposed to list stuff you're "especially" good at. You can't be "especially" good at everything. By definition, to be especially good at something you need to have stuff you're not especially good at.
That conversation lingers in the history of our relationship because I gave him some examples to get him started. The first one was Ms. Pac-Man. I think I'm above average at Ms. Pac-Man. Except then my husband claimed he was above average at Ms. Pac-Man, too.
We stopped for pizza shortly thereafter and there was a Ms. Pac-Man machine right next to the cash register. Game on. Clearly. My husband barely got out of the second round. I set a new high score on the machine. Now he understands how to compile a list of things he's good at. He started by eliminating Ms. Pac-Man from the list.
He has many other skills however. Skills I openly acknowledge I suck at. Skills he clearly excels at. My personal favorite is his tolerance for pain. If my husband were a car, he'd be a big Hummer. And his engine light would be on. But he'd just keep on driving and driving despite the light. The light would be a minor issue and maybe he'd plan to have it checked the next time he got the oil changed but why stop. And the gears grinding and the smoke coming out and the sputtering and gasping? Yeah, sometimes that happens. But still, no need to stop. Because, really, it's not impairing his forward progress. It's just pain. And, I guess, meant to be endured.
There is no finer example of my husband's view of pain than the time he got dental work without pain medication. He said the dentist gave him a shot to numb the area locally but that it didn't work. He kept waiting thinking it would eventually take effect. Only it didn't. So he just sat still the whole time the dental work got done like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on. Um. Yeah. That's pretty much beyond ridiculous. My husband claims the dentist was sorta impressed when he found out. I'm thinking my husband is confusing "impressed" with "creeped out" but who knows.
Being married to someone with a high pain tolerance is interesting. It's a plus when there's a painful task that needs to be performed. Like, say we go on The Amazing Race and someone needs to chop off their finger with a butter knife to win a million dollars, that's all him. On the other hand, complaining to him that you have a headache is sort of pathetic. I feel obligated to preface all my complaints with, "Look, we can't all have dental work without pain medication." That's what you call a show stopper. Dental work. No pain medication. You do the math. And feel free to tell me your most random useless skill. And be sure it's one you're especially good at. Because I'm not afraid to call you out and show you up at the nearest Pizza Hut. Just ask my husband.
That conversation lingers in the history of our relationship because I gave him some examples to get him started. The first one was Ms. Pac-Man. I think I'm above average at Ms. Pac-Man. Except then my husband claimed he was above average at Ms. Pac-Man, too.
We stopped for pizza shortly thereafter and there was a Ms. Pac-Man machine right next to the cash register. Game on. Clearly. My husband barely got out of the second round. I set a new high score on the machine. Now he understands how to compile a list of things he's good at. He started by eliminating Ms. Pac-Man from the list.
He has many other skills however. Skills I openly acknowledge I suck at. Skills he clearly excels at. My personal favorite is his tolerance for pain. If my husband were a car, he'd be a big Hummer. And his engine light would be on. But he'd just keep on driving and driving despite the light. The light would be a minor issue and maybe he'd plan to have it checked the next time he got the oil changed but why stop. And the gears grinding and the smoke coming out and the sputtering and gasping? Yeah, sometimes that happens. But still, no need to stop. Because, really, it's not impairing his forward progress. It's just pain. And, I guess, meant to be endured.
There is no finer example of my husband's view of pain than the time he got dental work without pain medication. He said the dentist gave him a shot to numb the area locally but that it didn't work. He kept waiting thinking it would eventually take effect. Only it didn't. So he just sat still the whole time the dental work got done like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on. Um. Yeah. That's pretty much beyond ridiculous. My husband claims the dentist was sorta impressed when he found out. I'm thinking my husband is confusing "impressed" with "creeped out" but who knows.
Being married to someone with a high pain tolerance is interesting. It's a plus when there's a painful task that needs to be performed. Like, say we go on The Amazing Race and someone needs to chop off their finger with a butter knife to win a million dollars, that's all him. On the other hand, complaining to him that you have a headache is sort of pathetic. I feel obligated to preface all my complaints with, "Look, we can't all have dental work without pain medication." That's what you call a show stopper. Dental work. No pain medication. You do the math. And feel free to tell me your most random useless skill. And be sure it's one you're especially good at. Because I'm not afraid to call you out and show you up at the nearest Pizza Hut. Just ask my husband.
9.10.2007
I have sole custody of the remote for the next 10 days
My husband went out of town for training this morning. Again. He'll be gone about ten days. Everytime he goes, I begin contemplating my own death about 12 hours later. Or I at least start brainstorming places to hide to get a moment alone and excuses to give our children Benadryl.
Mostly it's the three year old I wouldn't mind medicating. She's chatty. And helpful. And chatty while being helpful. She's also really into me specifically. That only seems super cute until she's supervising my bathroom breaks and instructing me on when I'm allowed to eat. The other day she put herself in charge of distributing goldfish crackers. I didn't get the snacktime handbook but apparently there's a rule about no one eating until everyone has some. And a napkin. And she's watching so don't try slipping one in your mouth like she won't notice. Because she will. And then you'll really get it. Trust me.
My mother is conveniently coming over to stay with us this week. Not because of my husband being out of town. She's just working out of the office in our area so she thought she'd save herself some travel time. Talk about good timing.
Maybe it's the universe working in my favor. Maybe the universe heard the voices screaming inside my head when my husband told me about the upcoming trip. I like to think the universe decided to throw me a bone and send her over for a few days. Of course, I'd also like to think the universe thinks I'm too young and beautiful to do laundry. But, alas, there are three baskets waiting for me in front of the dryer. I guess I'll take what I can get.
Mostly it's the three year old I wouldn't mind medicating. She's chatty. And helpful. And chatty while being helpful. She's also really into me specifically. That only seems super cute until she's supervising my bathroom breaks and instructing me on when I'm allowed to eat. The other day she put herself in charge of distributing goldfish crackers. I didn't get the snacktime handbook but apparently there's a rule about no one eating until everyone has some. And a napkin. And she's watching so don't try slipping one in your mouth like she won't notice. Because she will. And then you'll really get it. Trust me.
My mother is conveniently coming over to stay with us this week. Not because of my husband being out of town. She's just working out of the office in our area so she thought she'd save herself some travel time. Talk about good timing.
Maybe it's the universe working in my favor. Maybe the universe heard the voices screaming inside my head when my husband told me about the upcoming trip. I like to think the universe decided to throw me a bone and send her over for a few days. Of course, I'd also like to think the universe thinks I'm too young and beautiful to do laundry. But, alas, there are three baskets waiting for me in front of the dryer. I guess I'll take what I can get.
9.06.2007
I'm not ready for football
Football season has officially begun. I know this because my DVR is currently being held hostage by my husband. Not because he's recording the game or anything. He just likes watching football in the bedroom where my DVR is. It's unclear why football viewing in the bedroom is preferable. I tend to think it's related to my 420 thread count sheets and divine pillowtop mattress. But I think he also likes to say the screen is bigger in there.
Indianapolis is playing. Which is fine. Whatever. I like Peyton Manning. I especially like when they show clips from when he hosted Saturday Night Live. Him coaching the little kids is my favorite. But I'm sort of over Peyton Manning. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I sat through the Super Bowl again this past weekend. The NFL channel was kind enough to replay that for our viewing pleasure. Or at least, my husband's viewing pleasure anyway. I mostly talked right through it and blocked his view of the screen. At least it included Prince's halftime show. I only wish there had been a halftime show during the Ultimate Fighting Champtionship (UFC) fight we watched last night. And the night before that was some reality show about minor league scrub UFC fighting. Dudes were competing in some tent thrown up at one of those Home Depot parking lot carnivals. I swear one of the guys was getting his hand taped up next to a snow cone stand. And he was talking about himself in the third person. And wearing a cape. Insane.
Wait. My husband just came and hugged me and thanked me for being so understanding about relinquishing the television. Now he's taking the dogs outside. Halftime! Has to be. That remote is mine.
Indianapolis is playing. Which is fine. Whatever. I like Peyton Manning. I especially like when they show clips from when he hosted Saturday Night Live. Him coaching the little kids is my favorite. But I'm sort of over Peyton Manning. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I sat through the Super Bowl again this past weekend. The NFL channel was kind enough to replay that for our viewing pleasure. Or at least, my husband's viewing pleasure anyway. I mostly talked right through it and blocked his view of the screen. At least it included Prince's halftime show. I only wish there had been a halftime show during the Ultimate Fighting Champtionship (UFC) fight we watched last night. And the night before that was some reality show about minor league scrub UFC fighting. Dudes were competing in some tent thrown up at one of those Home Depot parking lot carnivals. I swear one of the guys was getting his hand taped up next to a snow cone stand. And he was talking about himself in the third person. And wearing a cape. Insane.
Wait. My husband just came and hugged me and thanked me for being so understanding about relinquishing the television. Now he's taking the dogs outside. Halftime! Has to be. That remote is mine.
9.05.2007
Cute paper status report
Over the weekend, I allowed my three year old to assist me in cutting letters out of cute paper to make a "Happy Birthday" sign for her quickly approaching Pepto pink birthday celebration. First we printed giant letters on the printer. Then we cut them out and traced around them on the cute scrapbook paper. Then I cut them out while repeatedly explaining why Momma was the only one allowed to cut the cute paper. The soon to be four year old was unimpressed with my feeble explanations. But then she got distracted by a glue stick and some posterboard and the cute paper crisis was averted.
The letters turned out cute.
I'm not sure what we'll do with them yet. There's always the wall and some tape but that seems sort of blah. I'm blah 99.9% of the time but rarely on birthdays.
They didn't even take long to cut out. Mostly thanks to the glue stick and posterboard. But it didn't hurt that I picked a simple font either. Last year when I cut out zebra print letters for a zoo theme I stupidly picked a font with serifs. Holy cow that was dumb. Promise me you'll never try that.
My mother was lucky enough to witness the lettermaking live and in person. Shortly after I subjected her to a "should the pink swirl paper go before or after the hot pink stripes" discussion she mentioned that they sell signs at the store that say "Happy Birthday." She says some people buy them and hang them on the wall to celebrate. Isn't she cute? I know. I explained how much cuter my letters are. And they include my first born child's name which is way more fun. Because it's personalized. And homemade. And homemade letters = I love you. Duh.
The letters turned out cute.
I'm not sure what we'll do with them yet. There's always the wall and some tape but that seems sort of blah. I'm blah 99.9% of the time but rarely on birthdays.
They didn't even take long to cut out. Mostly thanks to the glue stick and posterboard. But it didn't hurt that I picked a simple font either. Last year when I cut out zebra print letters for a zoo theme I stupidly picked a font with serifs. Holy cow that was dumb. Promise me you'll never try that.
My mother was lucky enough to witness the lettermaking live and in person. Shortly after I subjected her to a "should the pink swirl paper go before or after the hot pink stripes" discussion she mentioned that they sell signs at the store that say "Happy Birthday." She says some people buy them and hang them on the wall to celebrate. Isn't she cute? I know. I explained how much cuter my letters are. And they include my first born child's name which is way more fun. Because it's personalized. And homemade. And homemade letters = I love you. Duh.
9.04.2007
Everyone to the car
This week is starting off really well. To begin with, it's only 4 days long. On top of that, I found out I got another promotion at work. That's on top of the temporary promotion I got a month ago. Which was on top of the new assignment I got two months before that. This probably makes it seem like I'm on some fast track to being an uber important person but really not so much. My primary duties will still be locating and rating cake in the building. Or at least those are the primary duties inside my head. I'll just be getting paid more. And the new promotion will include more schedule flexibility than my current temporary promotion. Currently, I have to use an alarm clock to get up in the morning. Before my temporary promotion, I didn't. Which makes it sound like I was sleeping til noon everyday but I can assure you that was not the case. I have 2 small children. One of them is in diapers. The odds of me getting to sleep until noon everyday are about as good as my chances of getting on America's Next Top Model.
Prior to my temporary promotion, I got to come to work whenever I wanted instead of having to be there at a certain time. Within reason. That pretty much eliminated the concept of being late. I discovered since having kids that this is essential to my morning routine. I struggle to get out the door in a timely fashion with 2 small kids. I tend to do a lot of herding. Herding down the hall. Herding to the door. I also tend to address the group as "Everyone." Except the group is literally two children. One of whom is 18 months old and has very limited verbal skills. "Everyone" seems sort of stupid when you put it in context like that. But I don't let that stop me. Everyone to the car. Everyone in their seat. Everyone calm down. That's a very important one. Far less effective than "Everyone to the door" but I don't let that stop me either.
My husband normally handles mornings with the kids. He sets a leisurely pace since he goes into work much later than me. They walk the dogs, wrestle on the floor, watch Daddy floss his teeth, check the scouting reports for this weekend's games, etc. I even get a morning conference call with the group during breakfast and another during the boisterous ride to daycare.
However, this week my husband has been heading into work early leaving me in charge of mornings. This is when I miss my flexible schedule the most. Lost sandals to find. Backpacks to check. Important crap to load in the car. And no one ever wants to walk directly to the car and climb in. This morning was an impromptu game of tag in the driveway. Once in the car, there was a debate over ownership of a book found in the no man's land between the car seats and I think someone may have thrown half a banana under the passenger seat. No more morning duty for me. Everyone back to your regular schedules.
Prior to my temporary promotion, I got to come to work whenever I wanted instead of having to be there at a certain time. Within reason. That pretty much eliminated the concept of being late. I discovered since having kids that this is essential to my morning routine. I struggle to get out the door in a timely fashion with 2 small kids. I tend to do a lot of herding. Herding down the hall. Herding to the door. I also tend to address the group as "Everyone." Except the group is literally two children. One of whom is 18 months old and has very limited verbal skills. "Everyone" seems sort of stupid when you put it in context like that. But I don't let that stop me. Everyone to the car. Everyone in their seat. Everyone calm down. That's a very important one. Far less effective than "Everyone to the door" but I don't let that stop me either.
My husband normally handles mornings with the kids. He sets a leisurely pace since he goes into work much later than me. They walk the dogs, wrestle on the floor, watch Daddy floss his teeth, check the scouting reports for this weekend's games, etc. I even get a morning conference call with the group during breakfast and another during the boisterous ride to daycare.
However, this week my husband has been heading into work early leaving me in charge of mornings. This is when I miss my flexible schedule the most. Lost sandals to find. Backpacks to check. Important crap to load in the car. And no one ever wants to walk directly to the car and climb in. This morning was an impromptu game of tag in the driveway. Once in the car, there was a debate over ownership of a book found in the no man's land between the car seats and I think someone may have thrown half a banana under the passenger seat. No more morning duty for me. Everyone back to your regular schedules.
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