Prison is sounding good to me today. So I’m sitting here trying to figure out a good way to get myself there. The problem is that I’m not a huge risk taker, don’t like violence, am really bad with confrontation, don’t want to risk harm to my kids and would prefer not adding more kids to my brood so scaling a NYC building, getting in a bar brawl, robbing a bank, leaving my kids home alone and kidnapping are all out of the question. I think I’d have to either pee in public more than 100 times or pee ON a cop to land myself in a cell ,which takes too much time and is pretty nasty. I don’t have very impressive boobs so flashing or streaking won’t work. I’m really running out of ideas here.
Monthly Archives: September 2009
Anyone with a four year old knows that it’s a time of asking a bazillion questions a day. From the moment Hannah hops herself out of her bed into mine she is shooting questions at me with little patience for hesitation in my coming up with an answer and with no understanding of how “I just don’t know” could be an answer from “know-it-all” mommy. Some of Hannah’s questions make me second guess how smart I usually think she is and some make me second guess how smart I think I am. And some are just not meant to be answered and I need to try all my best tricks to shrug them off and change the subject.
Hannah has a new little Lion that she has named Lilly. Lilly has “magic powers” and can make any wish come true if you stroke her mane. So this morning I asked Hannah what she’s been wishing on Lilly. Since I have nothing interesting to talk about today, I have decided to let you all in on her wishes too…
Two years ago we bought Hannah a soccer ball and soccer goal and had visions of her instantly falling in love with the sport. I pictured myself the soccer mom cheering on the sidelines, carpooling a pack of sweaty girls from one end of the state to the other. That day she kicked her pink ball twice, ran into the house, grabbed a blanket, a bottle and a book, ran back out, and proceeded to wrap the ball in said blanket (she actually did a mean swaddle), placed it in her arms, fed it a bottle, read it a book, rocked it and placed it in the goal. Oh and then she blew it a kiss and said, “night night”. Tim put his arm around me and said, “there’s our daughter, the athlete”. Ok, I just realized that I already told this little story in a past post… sorry for the repeat but this one is going somewhere…
The picture you see here was the last time that Hannah wore jeans. The minute that she learned to walk she started refusing to wear them. Or anything with a button and a zipper on top for that matter. She aged about 75 years at that point and would ONLY wear pull on pants with a stretchy top. The others she told me were too itchy, too tight, too uncomfortable. She also refused to wear tights (didn’t like pants that covered her feet), empire waist dresses (the line above her belly was uncomfortable), 3/4 sleeve tops (the sleeves were broken) or boots (couldn’t move her ankles). So, you can see what I was dealing with here. High maintenance at its best. But it was ok… leggings and long tops have been a good look for a few years now and leggings are much cheaper than jeans anyway.
Halloween. It’s here again. It’s one of the holidays that Hannah frequently asks when it will be here. She told me it’s one of the only reasons she’s happy that summer is over (along with there being less bees around, being able to eat snow and not getting sweaty as quickly). Throughout the year she talks about what she’s going to be for Halloween but only around now does it become a serious topic of conversation most days, actually make that every day. All Day.
Hello??? Can anyone hear me? I’m down here… throw me a life ring QUICK! You can’t see me? You can’t see me flailing about? I’m drowning, I’m drowni…
Have you ever had someone in your life who you think wants to be JUST like you. Who buys the same clothes as you, decorates her house like yours, starts talking like you, listening to the same music as you, even their mannerisms start imitating yours? Yes? Wow you think you’re pretty cool don’t you? ;0 I’ve never had a friend like this but I DO have a daughter like this. And it’s weird. Creeps me out at times actually because she literally does or wants to do and say everything like me. And I KNOW I’m not the only mom out there with this predicament (may it be good or bad). Everything I say or do gets thrown right back at me by this little thumb sucking clone of mine.
My husband is the one who remembers everything. He actually can freak people out with his memory, being able to recollect the smallest detail of the first time he met them or where he had seen them in the past. I usually stand by as he’s introduced to someone and I see the glimmer in his eye as he realizes that 15 years ago he had met them at a beer fest in Nowheresville. And I’ll roll my eyes thinking “oh here we go…” as I hear him asking them things like, weren’t they wearing a navy shirt and white shorts when they met? And didn’t they have a younger sister who had gone to Peduka U? And wasn’t their favorite food sardines but they had had an allergic reaction to sardines and spent most of the evening throwing up at the beer fest? And hadn’t their hair been a lighter shade of auburn? Yes, he has a fantastic memory (for totally unimportant things). I usually don’t remember all the details. I don’t recall faces quite as easily or know what movie theater we saw our first movie together in. I don’t remember what football team won two Columbus Days ago.
“Keep the mouse in the house”. It’s a saying that can make anyone laugh if referring to the embarrassing situation when you just can’t help but notice that a guy’s weiner is in full view when he’s sitting inappropriately with his legs spread. Or when it’s peeking out of his boxer shorts. You try to cover your eyes but you just HAVE to look. Well, I can say for sure that this little saying ONLY applies to penises. And I can say that because I have a mouse in my house and I would prefer to not keep him here.