Archive for the ‘Daily’ Category
May 08 2011
When I was a young girl, I locked myself in my parents’ bathroom. There were many times in the future that this would have been done purposefully, but this instance was not. The lock malfunctioned when I happened to be inside, and I couldn’t get out.
I was frantic, my mom was frantic. Being a little kid full of drama, I began to cry, assuming I’d be trapped in the bathroom forever. After trying everything we could, my mom eventually had to call someone to set me free. And she was there, my mom, appearing relieved just as I was when I was able to emerge.
What goes around, comes around.
Yesterday, Jedi was complaining about his door. “It keeps creaking open”, he whined. So when I rose out of bed that morning, I dug around our miscellaneous items drawer when I came away with an unused lock latch. Feeling remarkably useful so early already, I screwed it in place. Then tried to close the door.
It was tight. Very tight. That should have been my first clue to abort mission. I wiggled and finagled the door closed, however, with Jedi still in bed watching Spongebob, though it took a lot of prodding. And it stayed securely closed. And wouldn’t open.
I had flashbacks from that bathroom at that very moment.
He wasn’t in that bedroom nearly as long as I had been trapped with a toilet, but it was still enough for me to panic. Eventually, I did my best roundhouse kick to the door and he was set free. And there I was, Jedi’s mom, seemingly more relieved than he was when he was able to emerge. Because he didn’t. The lazy lump stayed in bed like nothing had happened.
Still, it’s nice to know there are mothers to get their kids out of tricky situations. Even if those mothers may be the ones who get their kid in the tricky situation to begin with.
To all the moms out there, Happy Mother’s Day!
May 05 2011
Was today’s activity helpful or interesting? This was the top question on a survey handed out Wednesday during the family luncheon at Jedi’s school. Along with getting to sit in a loud cafeteria and eat a rather bland turkey and cheese wrap with my son, we were also assigned a stretch of land in their garden to dig for planting and seeds.
Does that seem like just an excuse for free labor to anyone else?
Now, I’m not a big garden person. I don’t mind getting dirty, but I don’t really know what I’m doing. We walked in front of a plot of land, though, with a packet of magnolias and some kind of fragile leafy concoction in a container. All the while, Jedi’s complaining because the sun was in his face. “I want to go back to class”, he even whined.
“No, I came here for this. We are going to plant flowers and have fun”, I hushed sharply.
“It’s too hot and the sun is too bright. Maybe I can go back to speech class”, he wondered as I knelt over with a small hand trowel, which is the class they called him out of when I arrived. He pronounces some of his r’s like w’s. I used to do the same.
“No, you’re here with me”, I kept insisting, trying not to take his resistance personally.
“Where’s Miss Cassidy? I want to go with Miss Cassidy”, he looked around, still whining. When we were finally done, he couldn’t bolt for the door fast enough.
So was today’s activity helpful or interesting? Not in the way intended, no. We’re not going to rush home to begin a family garden anytime soon. But it did make my son appreciate his fluorescent light and temperature-controlled classrooms more, so that’s kind of helpful, right?
May 04 2011
Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome and thank you for attending today’s not-in-the-least anticipated matchup. We expect a vaguely entertaining and clean bout with as few rounds as possible. There will be no referee with us today, however, so do what you have to do for protection. Though let me remind you, screaming like a girl is strictly prohibited. Since one of you is armed with a stinger, the other has chosen as her mode of defense a rolled up Maxim magazine and a bottle of Windex. I don’t know what she was thinking, either, ladies and gentlemen.
Now, let me introduce you to our untrained, yet ferocious, fighters this morning, ladies and gentlemen! In this corner, we have a wasp. He’s brown, beady-eyed, and happens to have found a comfortable residence for waspy things in his opponent’s slim mailbox.
In the other corner, we have our noble challenger, C. She’s terrified of wasps and doesn’t want her mail carrier, nor herself, to get stung when reaching in to gather her mail. Really, the bills sting enough. We agree there, don’t we ladies and gentlemen?
And the bell rings! Stay safe and good luck!
Round 1: Here comes C, she’s about to check the mailbox. The suspense is insurmountable! She appears steady, firm in her stance. But the wasp is in a strong striking position. Just the look of him alone appears enough to send C retreating. Round 1 goes to the wasp!
Round 2: She’s at it again, this time with a different take on the same approach. Cowering for cover, she flings the door open enough to jolt the wasp out. The wasp flew out, ladies and gentlemen! This round may go to… Wait, it’s back! The wasp is back! Stubborn and determined to stand its ground. Round 2, again we have to give it to the wasp.
Round 3: What’s that? C has brought out the big guns, ladies and gentlemen! In her left hand, she has the rolled up magazine, in her right a bottle of Windex. What do you think she’s going to do? Clean him? Let’s see! She manages 3 sprays before the wasp gives up and flies away. It’s gone again, ladies and gentlemen! That was a good amount of window cleaner it consumed. I don’t know if we’ll see him again, but he should be shiny if we do. Round 3, and the winner by ineptitude, goes to C! Congratulations C!
That’s right bee-otch, who’s scared now? (Please don’t come back.)
April 28 2011
Do you know what “fun” thing I don’t understand?
Stickers.
Even as a kid myself, stickers seemed to come with a severely limited fun-potential. There isn’t a lot to do with them. There are really only 2 options that I can think of:
1.) A sticker book. Which may seem like a great idea to keep all those stickers contained, but also boring.
2.) Tag your surroundings. Which, let’s face it, is much more enjoyable as far as stickers go. Still not a great option if you’re a parent, though. Because if your child has ever had stickers, you know you’ll be peeling those off surfaces for days, if not weeks, to come.
Buzz was given a gift box of stickers for his birthday. Not just a single sheet or even a pack, a gift box. In total, there are 100 Superhero stickers to do… something… with. Sure, all that stickiness appears enticing at first. But it’s like a hot fudge sundae; sweet and delicious, but full of empty calories that have nowhere productive to go.
He has more stickers than should ever be allowed. I can’t keep up. I’m finding pieces of Spiderman and Wolverine on the carpet, Iron Man riding shotgun on the bottom of my foot, a blue Beast tangled in my hair, and Blade adhered to my clothes. Most of all, however, they have begun to set up a perimeter of super crime fighters on my walls. All over my walls. Where that swath of pristine space is just too tempting.
Stickers. I don’t get it. But it seems I’m literally stuck with them.
April 25 2011
Our Sunday celebration consisted of a little of this:
And a little of this (his birthday isn’t actually until tomorrow, yearly post forthcoming):
