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Friday, April 30, 2004

In Which I Am A Grown-Up

I went to a high school play tonight -- it was written by the new drama teacher to commemorate the career of the retiring drama teacher, who was not only the new drama teacher's drama teacher, but also mine. :) (follow that?) It was a funny production, well-done. What was more fun, though, was the mini-high-school-reunion going on at intermission. I ran into the following people:

• At least half a dozen people my age I've known since I was barely out of diapers, and dozens of other people I went to school with. Now they're all adults. The nerve!
• Younger siblings of said contemporaries who are likewise adults.
• Members of the youth group my husband and I taught as newlyweds, also now adults.
• Several kids I babysat, who are now old enough to have boyfriends and stuff, some of whom are about to leave for college. ack.
• The girl who was the flower girl in my wedding, now a senior, who had a part in the play.
• My first serious boyfriend, who, what, fifteen years later? is, albeit quite a nice guy, probably the only man west of the Rockies still sporting a mullet, and who was the only person I saw all night who looked exactly the same as he had when I knew him better.

Generally, it was a lesson in "Rachel, Face It, You're Almost Thirty; You Are A Certifiable Grown-Up." Which is fine, I'm looking forward to being thirty. It's sometimes just startling to have it be so close.

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Thursday, April 29, 2004

cat + laser pointer + Jennifer Cruisie book

I swear that now that we have Molly and Mary, I'm not going to fill my diary with inane kitten stories, or insights about purring on laps and somnolent contentment and what else do you need and what all. I'm not. But dang, it seems like God invented cats with laser pointers in mind, doesn't it? Cat + laser pointer = me narrowly escaping peeing myself laughing. I always have been easily amused.


I just finished reading Bet Me by Jennifer Crusie. Actually, I got it from the library yesterday, and I read it yesterday afternoon and evening, and, well, much of the night, too, if you really must know. (Jennifer Crusie is like that). Anyway, this book was recommended to me by a source I trust, and she was right; I obviously enjoyed it well enough to have a hard time putting it down. One thing I'm not sure she was right about, though, is that the book would change my perspective about dieting. It didn't so much. You'd have to read it to know exactly what I'm talking about. So please do -- go check it out of the library or pick it up at your local independent bookstore or Barnes and Noble or whatever, and read it, and tell me how realistic you think it is. It's not Tolstoy or Dickens but still, a book discussion is a book discussion! :)

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Monday, April 26, 2004

meet Molly and Mary

Doing what cats do best

We finally did it. Furry pets have invaded our household. Funny, this is the first time I've had a real pet since having children and it's just not quite the same -- yet anyway. I'm looking forward to having them cuddle up with me while I read, though. And of course the kids are being their characteristic selves with them: LT making them a bed, figuring out the best place for their food and litter, and wondering if we should get them flea collars; C having to be constantly reminded not to terrorize them with friendliness or else, no matter how much she's just doing it because she loves them, they'll avoid her like the four-year-old plague (like her grandparents' cats do, but then, they've known her since she was much younger and hence much more frightening to those of the feline persuasion).

Now I get to childproof all over again. Please tell me again why I did this?

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Saturday, April 24, 2004

santa for a day

I won't bore you all with a long post about my day today. It was a lot of fun; I took my two nephews and my two offspring to the city for an all day zoo/picnic/Storyland/Playland extravaganza. It was all free because it was the once-a-quarter free Storyland/Playland day for zoo members. Also, everyone was very well-behaved, and as an added bonus, I got to feel like Santa Claus all day because the kids had such a fantastic day. This was great for my mood and I'm all relaxed and cheery now. Especially now that my caffeine-addicted self has imbibed a bit of Diet Coke. Aaah.

I am the mother of the epitome of the four-year-old drama queen. She just fell down outside and got one of those scrapes that's visible more because of the dirt than the injury; I sent her to the bathroom to clean it off. Soon her shrieks of "It's blooding!! It's blooding!" filled the house, and if I hadn't been her mom for four and a half years now, I might have been naive enough to do something besides saunter in her direction, practicing keeping a straight face. Sure enough, she had maybe three microns of blood at the end of one of the barely-visible-once-cleaned scratches. Oh dear. I think she'd have loved it if I'd run in a panic to the phone and called the paramedics. She seemed quite disappointed when the blood went away and she didn't even need a Band-Aid.

Pictures from today:


It looks like she's doing a "talk to the HAND" kind of thing, in a four-year-old sort of way, but I think really she was just reaching for something. And the real reason I posted this picture was so that I could show off the denim jeans quilt I made.

PLEASE DO NOT FEED THE CHILDREN

If you didn't know this was a ferris-wheel sort of ride, it would look like a really inventive and abusive form of child containment. Not to say that there's never been a day when this would have a certain... appeal*. ;-)

*please don't call CPS; obviously I am so totally kidding. It would absolutely have to have padding before I'd even consider it.

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Wednesday, April 21, 2004

eight years ago today

Please pardon the mushy nature of this post. Mothers will understand.

April 21, 1996



April 21, 2004


It just doesn't work quite the same, does it. The picture does not adequately convey -- probably because I am, as I have mentioned many times, an oversized ox-woman -- how monumentally BIG that boy is. He is 50th percentile for height and weight... for an eleven-year-old. We feed him well.

Still, there's nothing like a cuddle. When he was a baby, a teeny tiny newborn, a day old, just trying to get used to life outside his little uterine haven, he would stop crying instantly if someone rubbed his head. (Maybe it reminded him of the comfort of bouncing his head repeatedly against my bladder. He certainly did seem to enjoy that during his stay in Chez Maman...) Even during baths, which he hated -- as soon as you started rubbing the shampoo on his hair he'd quiet down and look up at you with those big blue eyes that always looked like he was doing some serious contemplation (he looked like a little old man as a baby, minus the excess hair). Anyway, as he grew he'd climb in my lap and ask me to "cuddle his head", and I'd run my fingers through his hair over and over until he fell asleep. Nowadays, every once in a great while, he'll still ask for a cuddle, but usually it's me, hauling that hulk of a child up into my lap (which is not as easy as this picture makes it look) so that I can have my baby boy back for a few minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's a little -- THING, not a poem exactly -- that I wrote just after his fifth birthday. It still applies. :) CAUTION: EXTREME MUSH FACTOR. Could be hazardous to your health. Proceed with caution.

You used to live under my skin.
My every breath and motion rocked you.
My muscles wrapped around you in a protective embrace.
Your movements kept me company.
Your presence answered my prayers and filled my dreams.
You gave my body a reason for being.

Then you were a noisy bundle of Boy
hungry for my breasts, needful of my attentions.
I doted on you (along with the rest of Western civilization).
I fed you, held you, stroked your head, changed your pants, dressed you in fuzzy yellow sleepers.
You gazed at me like I was the only person you ever needed to see in the world.
I have never felt so important in my life.

I turned my head, and then looked back at you
and found in place of that bundle
this tall
capable
headstrong
loving
beautiful
intelligent
PERSON.
Who told you your legs could get that long?
When did you get permission to be four feet tall
and learn to read
and make up stories out of your own head
and have a best friend?
It is almost impossible to see that needy, helpless baby in this joyful, wonderful boy before me.

That is, until I creep in when you are sleeping
and fold you into my lap with your head under my chin.
You almost wake up, but then
your breathing is even and your lashes are on your cheeks.
(who says you can have lashes like that?)
I rock you gently back and forth
and cuddle your head.
You are busy dreaming about dinosaurs or animal crackers
or motorcycles or big trucks or helicopters
or jigsaw puzzles.
You don't even know your Mommy is wetting your stubbly
hair with her tears.
I have found my baby boy again.
You won't remember this moment in the morning
but I shall never forget it as long as I live.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy eighth birthday, birthday boy. It's such a blessing to be your mother.

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Tuesday, April 20, 2004

not QUITE Carrie Fisher

I almost feel witty tonight but it's like when a word is "on the tip of my tongue" -- the witty thoughts just keep slipping away before I can quite catch them. So instead of witticisms, here's something we inflicted on C today (well, she DID beg me to do it):

I had her hair in pigtails and she wanted them wound around like Princess Leia's hair, into buns on the sides of her head. So, because I'm the mother I swore I would never be (that is, the mother who takes embarrassing pictures of her children), I did it, and took a picture.

Honestly? Except for the uneven part and the hair marble thingies poking out, I think it looks really cute, even though (or perhaps because), C being not as hair-endowed as Carrie Fisher was in 1977, the buns look more like little knobs than like, well, like crescent rolls glued to the sides of her head. In fact, when I was a little girl, I wore my hair to school this way on occasion. Just in case you ever wondered why I was so popular.

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Saturday, April 17, 2004

what does "party" mean to you?

I was just musing, as I sewed interfacings together for the three summer blouses I'm making for C, about the way my idea of what a party is has changed over the years. When I was a really young child, I don't know that I thought about parties much, but if I did, I probably thought of classroom parties, with Room Mother cupcakes and holiday-appropriate decorations and crafts, and that "school day but not REALLY a school day" kind of feeling. In early adolescence -- say, from fifth grade through junior high, I never actually HAD parties, or went to any that I remember, but in my fantasies, they were frighteningly like something out of a 1950's teen novel. I always envisioned soft lighting, and slow/peppy music, and slow dancing with my head on a boy's shoulder (preferably the boy would be taller than me so that I didn't have to stoop over like an elderly woman to do this, but this was about as likely as the rest of the scenario -- that is to say, completely and utterly improbable). Pitifully, I did actually plan a few parties during this time but they never materialized.

Then in high school, I actually did have several parties, and they generally went as follows: Friends, generally of both genders, would come over after school or in the middle of an afternoon; we would have pizza and Pepsi, maybe watch a movie, and generally end up going for a walk before everyone left, sometimes at midnight or two a.m. Occasionally there would be a bit of drama at a party -- a couple would be made or broken, for example. Once I was sitting by the road and got a foxtail in my ear -- THAT was pretty dramatic. (just in case you ever wondered why country people have a reputation for being simple.)

Early in my marriage a party generally meant a church group or a group of women, over at someone's house for a baby shower or a birthday party for anyone in the congregation whose birthday fell in December, or some such thing. White elephant exchanges. Highly competitive games involving leg-crossing and safety pins. (for some GREAT baby shower ideas, check out what Dawn did for her sister's shower. Wish I was so creative.)

And then there's the past eight years or so. The word "party" instantly brings to mind the following: Crepe-paper streamers, of which we always buy far, far too many. Balloons, and if we really splurge we get the helium setup from Costco. An innovatively-decorated cake (today's depicted the Battle of Hoth; in the past we have created army battles, horse corrals, Blue and Steve, a lunar landscape, and various other kid-related scenarios with frosting and toys). A similarly innovative piñata. A crowd of children running wild. A lot of stress, and a lot of fun, and that moment when I finally abandon my mental image of what was supposed to go on, and enjoy the event for what it is.

And of course there's the realization that I have progressed past another milestone on the way to watching my children become adults and drive away, one at a time, to make their own lives wherein I'm just an accessory. We always spend the last few days before each birthday emphasizing the fact that the child hasn't passed into the new number quite yet -- so, although his party was today, our boy won't actually be eight until Wednesday, and we're holding on to every last minute of seven as hard as we can.

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Friday, April 16, 2004

anything's better than cleaning out the fridge

I am procrastinating. (so what else is new?) Soon I will have to actually open the containers I've just pulled out of the refrigerator, and pour the contents into a bucket and empty it into the compost. But I need to gather my courage about me first. (or just wait and hope that T will do it for me... hem...). At least we finally have a microscope -- the budget didn't expand to fit a new one after all, all those months ago (hmm! was that the last time I cleaned out the fridge? couldn't be...), but we did find a serviceable one at a yard sale for A DOLLAR (high five for my bargain-hunting abilities, right?) and we've been wasting a lot of time today looking at everything from aquarium water (lots of swimmy things) to potato scrapings (lots of bulbous, teardrop-shaped cells) under it. So I'll have to gather some samples from the refrigerator scraps too. Hey, wow, maybe this will be a viable excuse for me not to clean it out so often -- as if, what, every two months is often? -- it's scientific research. Homeschoolers can get away with anything. ;-)

Oh my goodness, I think that's a record even for me. FOUR parenthetical statements in one sentence. I think I need to cut back; that's got to be bad for my health.

Among the horror-movie props that were in the refrigerator, I found four tiny cartons of grape juice, which had been there long enough that the sides were bulging out a little. We get these from the neighbor ladies, who get them from Meals On Wheels. They started giving my kids their juice months ago, I think because they are diabetic but I'm not sure. Anyway, by the time we discovered that none of us likes grape juice, they were already in the habit of giving them to us, and pretty soon we reached the point where we couldn't tell them we didn't like it without hurting their feelings. So now the whole family is complicit in this little white lie, wherein we thank the elderly ladies for the juice and then bring it home and either stow it in the refrigerator until it swells, or just pour it directly down the sink. I don't see as much gray area in life as a lot of people do, but lying to old ladies to spare their feelings is definitely a small area of haze on my otherwise pretty-much-black-and-white moral code.

We are on the lookout for a pair of kittens. Well, I am, and the kids are, but I don't think we've fully convinced T yet. Which I suppose is just as well, since now that we want kitties, nobody is giving any away. T insists on being sensible and saying that we should wait until after our vacation this summer, because the poor beasties would be left here alone for two weeks with only the occasional house-sitting visit to cheer them. Darn man, has to be reasonable when I get all excited and illogical about something. ;-) I have been Pet-Free By Choice for so long that I feel like a bit of a traitor to the cause, caving in like this, but the kids have been seeming very interested in having something furry to pet -- fish aren't terribly cuddly, after all -- and a dog is out of the question right now. And I can just see them on their respective therapists' couches in thirty-odd years talking about us: KID: "No, we never, ever had a pet growing up. Mom and Dad just wouldn't let us. We couldn't afford it. We didn't have space. Too much trouble." THERAPIST: "INteresting. And how did that make you feel?"

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Tuesday, April 13, 2004

life is better

Why can I never think to make sure that my husband has a supply of clean white v-necked t-shirts BEFORE ten o'clock at night? I ask you. What I should really do is take about $50 of our grocery budget, go to Wal-Mart, and buy about eight three-packs of shirts every month. These will live in the top of our closet and he can simply pull one shirt out every morning and throw it away every night. Simple!

Oh my goodness that actually sounds tempting, except that it would involve a trip to the city which, at this point in time, I feel like I never. ever. want to do again.

Has anyone here ever been to the Bay Area? WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD is the traffic on the 580 freeway east through Livermore ALWAYS ALWAYS so terribly screwed up, EVERY SINGLE DAY, even at 3:00 in the afternoon? There's no accident! There's no lane closure! Precisely how many incapable drivers does it take to turn four lanes into "stop-and-go, and stop, and go just long enough to make you start to think you can actually accelerate, and then STOP and cause everything in your trunk to ram into the backseat so that you don't rear-end the person in front of you who has likewise had to throw his passengers and belongings to the front of the car to avoid hitting the person in front of HIM, and so on"? EVERY SINGLE TIME I ever travel that road! WHY? I took the kids to pick up some telescope accessories for T today and they wanted to see the windmills on Altamont Pass on the way home so I took the circuitous route. Never. Again.

Bad things about today:

• The weird nameless dread that sometimes comes upon me at bedtime is back. It's not that I sit and worry, I just feel that awful pit-of-the-stomach something is wrong feeling and I have no idea why. Is this what an ulcer is like? I wonder.
• The aforementioned traffic which made my shoulders so tense that I wonder if they will ever relax. I feel like a cat with my back permanently arched.
• T is sick and we don't know what with, and if we spend the money to go to the doctor, he'll just give us either the "I dunno, beats me, let's run some meaningless and expensive tests so that at least I look like I have some sort of thought process going on here," or he'll give us some pat and incorrect answer which has nothing to do with anything he learned in medical school except that The Patient Expects You To Have A Clue. It's probably some sort of virus, but it behaves really strangely, with only very occasional bouts of fever. Anyway. He has to work anyway because they are in the middle of some huge project at work and I hope he sneezes directly on his boss's computer keyboard and his boss is debilitated for weeks -- that'd teach him to have a little compassion and let a guy actually use his sick leave without getting an enormous guilt trip laid on him.
• The t-shirt/laundry thing, which is why I am here with you tonight instead of SLEEPING OFF THE TRAFFIC THING like I'd love to be doing.
• Cleaning the fishtank. Apparently, judging by the smell, the bacteria inhabiting the gunk that gets around the rim of the aquarium are the same as the ones in human intestinal tracts. In other words, it was not a pretty smell at all. eew.
• nothing else, today was actually pretty good aside from the above.

Good things about today:

• The reptilian THING is a little less alive today than it was yesterday; it's been dying slowly ever since Saturday morning.
• The smell of eucalyptus in Capitola and Santa Cruz.
• The blue, blue, BLUE blue of the Pacific Ocean today.
• The moment when I was standing outside the car near sunset at a gas station, waiting for the tank to fill, drinking a can of diet cherry coke, and I felt like I stepped outside myself and looked at myself like I was a woman in a book, having a quiet moment to myself in a surprising time and place and really enjoying it.
• My daughter singing along with Alison Krauss' cover of "When You Say Nothing At All," which is her "VERY fav'rite" song.
• Cloud shadows.
• Whatever tree or bush or whatever it is that makes twilight smell so good right now.
• Feeling like I'm really living my life again, instead of just looking at it through glass, like I had for days. Yay for living.

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Saturday, April 10, 2004

yet. another. survey.

1. What "type" of person bothers you so badly that you want to put shaving cream all over their car?
(note: this survey was headed "a survey for grownups" when I found it. Isn't it ironic that the first question out of the chute centers around the most junior-high of junior-high-isms?)
Aside from the fact that vandalizing a vehicle is pretty pointless... you know, I can't think of a single type of person about whom I feel this way. There are people whom I heartily dislike, but for all different reasons. How about the type of person who is a Democratic senator from California? A pretty exclusive group but one whose vehicles I would be more likely to cheerfully see vandalized. Or worse. hem.

2. When did you realize that you are not like "one of them"?
Pretty much from day 1 in kindergarten. And the unfortunate thing is that I really really wanted to be one of them and I was bewildered as to why I wasn't.

3. When did you realize that you really are just a cog in the machine?
I honestly don't see life this way. I mean, yes, we are all part of what makes our civilization work, so if you want to think of civilization as a machine, then yes, we're cogs. But we're not JUST cogs, because there's so much more to us than just what makes the machine go. I'm a mother bringing up children, I'm a wife loving her husband, I'm a daughter bringing joy to her parents. Cogs never had it so good. :)

4. Finish this sentence: "I go to bars to ..."
Use the bathroom when it's the only way to get to it. Seriously, the only bar I have ever been in is the one attached to the tiny country store in the tiny little town on the other side of where my parents live -- because that's where the bathroom is. It's not because I'm holier than everyone else ;-), I just don't see the point.

5. What do you think of marriage?
It's more than a "piece of paper", it's a solidified commitment to one person for the rest of your life. Not something to be taken lightly.

6. Would you be a member of the band, a groupie, a roadie, or a disgruntled parent whose kid hasn't gotten back from the show yet?
Depends on the band. :)

7. What is your idea of the perfect date?
A sit-down dinner, a bookstore, a latte, a caramel brownie, a long evening walk.

8. Who is your idea of the perfect date?
My husband.

9. Is perfection a credible concept?
Only for God. :) Although some things, some moments, are perfect just in and of themselves, for a fleeting period of time -- but true flawless perfection in a human, I don't think so.

10. What is the funniest story that you can tell that is in somehow related to some kind of sex? Did this story involve you?
I've already told it in my diary, somewhere. OK, I found it.

11. What are you allergic to?
Nothing.

12. If you could have celebrity status, would you?
No. No no no. I'm not THAT private a person -- I do have an online diary after all -- but I'm more private than to want that.

13. Do you know how to change the oil?
Yes.

14. Have you been in an adult sex store?
Accidentally, I think, once. One time in high school my best friend and I went roller skating. My parents dropped us off at the roller rink but it wasn't open yet and we were REALLY thirsty/hungry, so we walked a while (we were not at all familiar with this neighborhood) until we found a place that said it was a bakery. It was a bakery with some very-interesting-books in it. Although, come to think of it, I think that was probably all it was, since there wasn't anything besides books, that I remember. So no. You don't count Frederick's, right?

15. If you have a crush on someone, should you risk all and tell, or pretend like those feelings don't exist?
That depends largely on the situation. If the person is married or whatever, definitely keep it to yourself. Otherwise, you have little to lose and lots to gain, so I say go for it.

16. What is your ethnic heritage?
American for so many generations that in some lines I can't find where we came over. I'm serious. Not "Native American", just pre-Revolutionary War in almost every direction. And as far as where the lines eventually originated, most are from England, some from Germany.

17. Did your family expose you to the culture of those ethnicities?
Yes, lots of hot dogs and apple pie and patriotism. :)

18. What is the cutest thing ever?
What else am I supposed to say besides "my children"? :) Seriously, kittens attacking clumps of grass, all aggressive and warrior-like, that's pretty darn cute too.

19. What are you ashamed of?
Oh my. I am much better about this than I used to be but I do tend to sometimes speak/act before I think things through thoroughly, and that can have some devastating results.

20. Name five things that make you such an awesome person.

1. I did not swear when I dumped a quart and a half of (cold) frying oil onto the floor today.
2. I heroically kill black widows even though I am afraid of them, because everyone else in my household is much more afraid
3. I have made my bed every day for like two months straight (go me! just don't ask if I floss...)
4. Um, I type fast?
5. I am really good at trivia games.

21. "Do you like Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain?"
Pina coladas, no, rain, generally yes.

22. What is your ideal living arrangement? Who else would be there?
Exactly like it is now is very, very nice. I'd eventually like to be further out of town though.

23. Do you have the ambition to run for public office?
No no no.

24. Nobody can "make" someone else fall in love with them, but what could somebody do that would make you do a doubletake?
Assuming I was unattached, I have always been a sucker for traditionally romantic stuff like writing in the sand and picking wildflowers. I am not terribly creative here. Anything that speaks of serious devotion to me is nice.

25. When is your birthday?
Christmas 1974

26. How do you celebrate your birthday?
The family gets together (about 12 of us), I pick the menu, and we have cake and ice cream and presents.

27. What would put someone on your bad side?
Meanness. Not just from-afar sniping, making fun of grammar or clothes or whatever (although that's not very nice either), but in-person mean-on-purpose meanness.

28. What do you think of while you fall asleep at night?
Generally I read until I can't keep my eyes open. If I'm not reading but I'm having a hard time sleeping, I start worrying about stuff.

29. Who do you know that you can never get tired of spending time with?
My husband, and my kids (99.9% of the time anyway).

30. What are five fun things you have done this year (2004) that did not involve drugs, alcohol, or fast cars?

1. Planned a Star Wars party with my son.
2. Gone to Florida with my family to visit my best friend.
3. Taken my first airplane flight.
4. Had a girls' day out, shopping with my daughter.
5. Taken up sewing again.

31. How would you describe your sexuality?
Very heterosexual, very monogamous.

32. Do you like the nightlife? Do you like to boogie? On the disco?
um, no.

33. What invention do you wish was destroyed?
You know, I can't think of one. I am trying to think of something that only has a malevolent or annoying use, and I can't. Oh, wait, those stupid annoying computer chips in kids' toys that make noise.

34. Do you consume porn or erotica?
No.

35. What was the single dumbest thing you did between 12-18?
Well, I started flirting with this guy at a party who was 36 (I was 16). One thing led to another and I ended up with a 36-year-old boyfriend, and believed him when he told me he loved me, and did even stupider things.

36. Who do you find irresistible?
I don't think I even need to answer this; you all already know. :)

37. What is your middle name?
Ellen

38. What names do you refer to yourself as, publicly and/or privately?
If I call myself anything it's usually "Mommy". I always swore I wouldn't talk about myself in the third person with my kids but as soon as I started talking to them (i.e. before they were born) I did.

39. What are your favorite magazines?
I'm not much of a magazine person. If I'm in a doctor's office I'll hope there's something like Good Housekeeping or Redbook or something, if I haven't brought a book for myself, so that I can maybe find ONE thing I'm interested in.

40. Which character on 90210 was your favorite? Which one could you most relate to?
I hardly remember the characters; I did watch the show with some regularity for a while (I was in the same high school class as the kids on the show). Let's see, there was a bad one, a pretty one, and a smart supposed-to-be-less-pretty one (who was also beautiful but she wasn't supposed to be). If I had to pick someone I'd probably say that one.

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Friday, April 09, 2004

just a pity party, don't mind me

Oh my goodness what a mood change I've had today. I can hardly believe tonight that I am the same person who was all chirpy and yay-i'm-going-on-a-date two days ago. Mainly I think it's been brought on by some interpersonal problems I've had yesterday and today (including the most vicious argument I have ever had with my husband, and it was all my fault, so, in the words of Rex, "Great! Now I have GUILT!" as well). This evening I cried and cried, and instead of the way I usually feel after I cry -- which is sort of washed-clean and ready to start fresh -- I feel like I've emptied myself of everything except this malevolent, living, growing, reptilian THING that's coiled in my chest. This THING makes me snappy and crabby and blah and I feel like I never want to speak again or be involved in anything or try anything. And at the same time I feel like I'm betraying myself by being this way... somewhere back inside is the real me, and she's really pissed off at this imposter. --------

short survey

I nicked this from the wickedly humorous Kristin and I can guarantee you that it won't be as funny as hers.

1: grab the book nearest to you. turn to page 18, find line 4. write down here what it says:
"overnight guests. The bedroom she shared with her son was di-" (this is actually from a REALLY GOOD BOOK called A Catch of Consequence by Diana Norman. I just finished it yesterday.

2: stretch your left arm out as far as you can.
and...? Thin air. (?)

3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?:
The opening days of the Iraq war, more than a year ago. I mean it.

4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is:
Um, 10:30?

5: now look at the clock, what is the actual time?:
10:08

6: with the exception of the computer, what can you hear?:
My kids playing a game

7: when did you last step outside? what were you doing?:
About half an hour ago, and I was going down to the tire place to deliver some tires to have them balanced. (it's a beautiful, beautiful day)

8: before you came to this website, what did you look at?:
mom-on-roof's diary

9: what are you wearing?:
My Eddie Bauer jeans (most comfortable jeans in the WORLD), a pink ribbed tank top, a white button-down blouse, unbuttoned

10: did you dream last night? what about?:
I don't remember

11: when did you last laugh? why?:
A few minutes ago, because my daughter was being silly

12: what is on the walls of the room you are in?:
This is shameful. We have lived in this house for, what, eight years almost? And one wall has built-in shelving which is cluttered up with DVDs, videos, pictures, and stuff, but the rest of the walls have NOTHING. We even own prints which we want to put up but we never get around to getting them framed. Because we are lame.

13: seen anything weird lately?:
Just the guy across the street -- it's possible that he's totally normal but I get a really WEIRD creepy don't-trust-him vibe from him every time he talks to me. He said hello to me when I walked out the door and I said a very quick no-eye-contact hello and got in the car.

14: what do you think of this quiz?:
It's more interesting than a lot of quizzes. And I love quizzes.

15: what is the last film you saw?:
The Passion of the Christ and The Return of the King on the same evening in the theater.

16: if you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?:
Property and a house.

17: tell me something about you that most people don't know:
Well, my life is pretty much an open book, except for some things that most people don't know because I don't WANT most people to know them -- which means I'm not going to post about them here either.

18: if you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
I am torn between being sincere or smartalecky here, so I'll do both. Sincere: Everyone would consider each other's needs and be courteous. Snotty: Nobody would automatically go into squeaky-voice mode when talking to children; that drives me utterly bananas.

19: do you like to dance?:
Only when I'm alone.

20: George Bush:
...is a good man whom I admire who has also done some things I'd rather he hadn't.

21: imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Well, my first child wasn't a girl. My second child was, and her name was Natalie. Or if I had another girl (which I never will) I'd name her Elizabeth Anne after my two favorite Austen characters.

22: imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
My first son was a boy, and he has a name so unique that I'm afraid if I put it in this diary you'd be able to track us all down and stalk us. So I'm not going to mention it. Sorry. :)

23: would you ever consider living abroad?
Maybe in the short term.

24: will you pass on this survey?
Well, I'll post it in my diary, which is pretty much the same idea.

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Thursday, April 08, 2004

the first part of my day

Courtesy of Diarist.net:

What is the first hour of your day like? Does what happens then have an effect on the rest of your day?

I am blessed to be able to be a stay-at-home homeschooling mom, so the first part of my day sometimes varies, but here's as close to a "typical" one as I can get.

• 5:00 a.m. T's alarm goes off. He shuts it off and then lies in bed snuggling with me (which generally also includes groping on his part, not to be too graphic...) while I try to simultaneously be glad that I have such a loving husband AND avoid waking fully. Eventually T gets up to get ready for work, sometimes has to ask me which laundry basket has the clean t-shirts, and then comes in just before he leaves to give me a kiss goodbye. Again with the mingled attempts at enthusiasm and unconsciousness.
• 7:00 or so Between seven and seven-thirty, C wakes up and comes crawling into my bed with me. Sometimes she goes back to sleep but usually she lies there and sings songs, pets my face, hugs me, pets my hair, and tries to converse with me, while I again try to seem cheerful when really all I want to do is sleep ... a ... few ... more ... minutes. Also, this whole time I feel awful because this is such a sweet moment, and I should really and truly be enjoying it and savoring it, and in a way I do, but definitely not as much as I should. At some point I become (regretfully) fully awake, kiss C all over her face, climb out of bed (to C's immense joy), pull on some clothes, make the bed (oh, spreading up those blankets when they're still warm from my sleeping self is so difficult! I just want to burrow back in...), and go out to the front room. Then I fix C's breakfast and turn on the computer to check the email, read my comics (For Better Or Worse, Rose Is Rose, 9 Chickweed Lane, Luann, Agnes, Get Fuzzy, Barkeater Lake, and Pearls Before Swine) and any diaries/journals which may have been updated by that time (with an actual occasional squeal of glee if I see that porktornado, mom-on-roof or sundry have updated). LT doesn't generally stumble out of bed until 9-ish. He sleeps like a teenager. Then he has breakfast and we head to the schoolroom for the rest of the morning.
  
  

As far as an effect on my day -- yes, frequently the first few hours of the morning do have a serious impact on the rest of my day. If I get up promptly (sometimes even with T, but not usually) and start housework, it's appalling to look at the clock at 8:00, when I have done so much already, and realize that I'd still be at least trying to sleep on an ordinary day. Now ask me if this changes the time I get up the next day and I'll honestly tell you that no, it doesn't, because I am the slackest of slackers. It does feel good afterward if I get right up and get to it -- although it feels much better during if I don't. And of course if the kids wake up and they're having a rare day when they're whining and sniping at each other, oh yes, it does make the entire rest of the day seem very rocky, unless I do a quick self-attitude-adjustment and get all cheerful instead of snapping and yelling -- usually IF I do that it'll turn their moods around. Again, ask me how often this happens the way it should. Or don't.

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reliving your youth 101

Yesterday was a rare thing: I had the house to myself (yes, MYSELF) from about 9:30 on. That's when my parents came by to say hi, and I nearly begged them to take the kids because T and I wanted to go see Return of the King at the "old" theater in the next city over in the evening while we still could. See, a big new megaplex came in downtown and now the theater by the mall is reduced to the level of a dollar theater, with second-run kind of movies -- is that what second-run means? Movies that are no longer in the little top five box at IMDB and are only a month or two from coming out on video? I am definitely not fluent in film-ese -- except that it doesn't COST a dollar, it still costs EIGHT FREAKING FIFTY. ANYWAY. I found out on Tuesday that ROTK was playing there, which it hadn't been on the weekend so I don't know how that happened seeing as theaters generally only change their movies on Fridays, right? But whatever. Anyway. I just read the trilogy for the first time, having been a loyal C.S. Lewis acolyte for years, but having never been able to "get into" Tolkien until this year, and T and I had rented the first two movies on DVD and enjoyed them a great deal -- me in spite of all the STUPID CHANGES they made.

Good LORD I am straying off topic in every direction here. Breathe, Rachel. [pause]. OK.

So we wanted to go to the movies so I begged my parents to take the kids and they DID, they went and had a marvelous time helping Dad cut pipe. And while I was lonely (I really honestly do enjoy my own children's company -- so sue me), I was kind of looking forward to a day of, oh, reading, and relaxing, and going to the library, and maybe getting a little housework done. But here's what happened instead. Right after the kids left, the pest control guy called about the enormous seething mass of carpenter ants which is trying to eat the underside of my house as I speak. He said he would be by "sometime after noon". I mopped the floor and cleaned the kitchen, realized I had fully missed my library window since I had to be back by noon, thought, oh no, what if the man needs to look INSIDE the house, dashed around cleaning, folded some laundry (watching Pride and Prejudice, of course; my hands don't know how to fold laundry if Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy aren't on the screen in front of me. Honestly I tried using "How to Lose A Man in 10 Days" [which is a vapid but funny movie, rented not owned] and it just didn't work), and then I finally at least had a little time to sit down and read. Which was nice. But my days-to-myself never end up quite like I think they will. At least I did relive my youth a bit while I tidied up -- I was listening to Tchaikovsky. I played "1812 Overture" and "Marche Slave" twice each, complete with goofy ballet moves and multiple breaks to conduct the parts that you just simply HAVE to conduct. Or I do anyway. Romantic-era music is just perfect for those hormone-laden teenage years, what with all the passion and agony and ecstasy and the drawn-out-ha-you-just-THOUGHT-it-was-over-but-really-we're-going-to-drag-out-the-beautiful-agony-just-a-little-bit-longer endings. I spent half my time when I was seventeen, it seems like, lying on my bed in my room conducting Tchaikovsky and Rossini and even the occasional bit of Beethoven and Schumann even though they were Classical rather than Romantic (but oh, the pain! the beautiful pain!).

ANYWAY again. Eventually T made it home and we made it just in time to the theater, and check this out: we had the whole place to ourselves. Well, not the whole BUILDING, I'm sure there were people in there watching, say, Scooby Doo or Hidalgo or whatever, but the whole, what, auditorium? (again with the lack of film-ese fluency). It was like being in our living room, except the screen was oh so much bigger, and of course the diet Coke cost $4.50. But we had comfy chairs with chairholders and we could sit there and talk out loud to each other about the movie, and I could narrate what was going on for T while he had his eyes covered because of that HORRID HUGE CREEPY WRETCH of a spider -- who belonged in the second book anyway and what was UP with that? I liked the movie better than The Two Towers -- fewer changes from the book, and more understandable ones. I am such a book-to-movie-adaptation snob that sometimes I think I should just put myself under a moratorium and just not watch anything I've read the book for; it would keep me from throwing things at my TV nearly so often. But I can't. And Gollum was worth it, just perfect, he compensated for everything.

So at the end of THAT movie, just as Bilbo and Frodo were about to get in the boat with the elves -- whoops, hope everyone's seen that by now -- we realized that if I just told T the rest of the story, we could JUST make it in time to watch The Passion of the Christ. Being good Christians, of course we were feeling all guilted out (actually, the Christianese term is "convicted", and yes, there IS a language where I'm frighteningly fluent -- I don't know what "second-run" means for sure but I can use words like "Christophany" or "apologetics" or "koinonia" in a sentence...) for using our sitter-tunity to watch ROTK instead of The Passion -- our reasoning being that The Passion would still be available for weeks or months but ROTK wouldn't, but that felt like, you know, leftovers instead of firstfruits or something. ANYWAY. T dashed to an ATM (no we did NOT theater-hop, I know you were thinkin' that) and we bought two tickets for The Passion and for the first time since I was maybe nine I watched two movies in a theater in the same day. (the last time was Gremlins and The Neverending Story in a double-feature, just so you know). And for the first time since the incredibly lame Body of Evidence (which I watched on a date with an equally lame guy), I watched a late movie. Oh my, when I woke up this morning I had all the convincing I ever needed that I am not as young as I used to be.

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Tuesday, April 06, 2004

my skin is still crawling

My skin is still crawling. We were walking back at dusk from the street where the kids ride their bikes (we live in a hilly neighborhood and this is the only accessible level street; it also has minimal traffic) when we noticed a veritable swarm of huge carpenter ants on the rail fence around our front yard. Carpenter ants are bad enough singly -- when they are seething, oh eew. I mean, it could be worse. It could be centipedes. (oh no it couldn't, no no no, banish that thought, the nightmares! the horror-movie-worthy nightmares!).



Anyway, this is another Good Time To Be Renting -- I called the landlord and he'll be sending the Orkin man around to our carpenter-ant smorgasbord of a house as soon as possible.



Oh eew.

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