Archive for the ‘life’ Tag
October 27 2011
I needed a shirt to wear.
As most mothers know, however, this isn’t as easy as it sounds. Shirts have a timeline of stains telling the years down the front or have holes in the arm pit of all places. I’m not looking to win a style icon award, just to step into public without being gawked at. Comfortably decent, if you will. I’m really very easy to please.
I know I have something here to wear.
I dug through my drawer, disgusted not only at the mess I was making but at the little options I found. It shouldn’t be this hard to find your standard issue clean shirt.
Then, I came across an army green tee. Not the most attractive option, but an old stand-by. One that has been with me for many, many years. It’s been showing its age, noticeably worn with a few discolored spots, but reliably passable. It would do when the only necessity is to be concealed. I slipped it over my head without a hitch and pulled it down.
But something wasn’t right, I noticed immediately. It gave more than it should. Along with that, there was a draft. I felt shockingly exposed. I looked down, and oh, hello. There was a giant rip stretching around my shirt, making me an unwilling participant in a bad game of peek-a-boob. Well, I can’t go out like that.
It made the arm pit holes not look so bad after all.
Back to square one.
I needed a shirt to wear.
October 19 2011
“I’m almost out of milk and toilet paper. Hmm…”
I said this to myself, since it was just Abby and I. The boys were already at school. I really didn’t want to go to the grocery store, though. I thought that maybe I could put it off until the next day. After looking through my kitchen, however, I realized that what I wanted to make for dinner required milk. And we didn’t have enough. And Buzz will be upset if he can’t have his cereal in the morning.
I really didn’t want to drive to the grocery store for two items, though. Pros and cons. Advantages to disadvantages. Milk and toilet paper.
“Abby, let’s get your shoes on”, I decided. “We’re going for a walk.”
We have a convenience store not far from where we live. A 5 minute walk, if that. Especially on such a cloudy, cool autumn morning. Everything is exceptionally more expensive than a supermarket, but it makes due for a few necessary items. Plus, it’s like an adventure. To a gas station.
“Where we going?”, Abby asked as we were making our way.
“We need milk and toilet paper”, I told her.
“Milk and toilet paper”, she repeated. “And pudding!”
I’m afraid we’re not walking to the convenience store to buy pudding, but I’m glad she has her priorities straight.
October 13 2011
Dear Dog,
Maybe dear is too intimate a greeting here. You’re not my dog, after all. And even if you were, I’m not sure I’d reference you with such affection. Though you did follow me home, much to my chagrin. I’m just glad I didn’t have any kibble available, because I know I would have fed you and then you would have never left.
Because while I may talk a big game, I’m really a softie. Just ask my parents. They were left with a batch of strays I couldn’t help but offer a home when I moved out.
Which isn’t to say you’re not cute. You’re very cute. With your pointy black ears and enthusiastic tail, I want to scratch your scruffy belly. It’s just, you see, you’re a puppy with a lot of energy. Too much for me to handle right now, to be honest. Just the thought of you is exhausting. Though, admittedly, that isn’t a terrible feat with 3 kids who run circles around me. I could barely muster the gumption to take care of our cat, and he just slept all day.
This is what I’m asking of you, then. I know it’s not fun to be restrained. You want to run! And chase squirrels! And kids! Must tackle the kids! But I worry about you when you’re out there, alone. I mean, there are cars and the bad things that could happen make me want to look out for you. You damn dog.
So if you could just stay in your own yard. Or at least stop excitedly lunging for us at lightning speed from out of nowhere as we shuffle to the bus stop. You’re scaring the crap out of my daughter and making my already sucktastic mornings even more difficult. That much would be appreciated.
I hope we have an understanding,
The one with your eager dirty paw prints on her pants
October 03 2011
I love fall. I do. It’s my favorite season. The colors of the falling leaves. Pumpkins and gourds. Halloween and costumes and candy. A cup of a steaming drink in your hand in the morning. There are rainy, gloomy days, but it mostly comes without the threat of doom and destruction like spring. It’s not too hot, not too cold, but usually a nice road down the middle.
The problem is, however, I have no idea how to dress my kids for the day.
My boys don’t care what they wear as long as they have something on, so I still pick out their daily ensemble. With the weather being like it is, I find myself at a bit of a loss. I put them in shorts one day last week because the day before was in the 80′s. That day, however, barely made it to 65. So I dressed them in long sleeves and pants the next day, when they came home sweating off the bus from upper-70 temperatures.
As my mom would say, this is how people catch colds. And my mom would be right, since Jedi is fighting one heck of a cough right now. Luckily, no other symptoms are present, he still feels fine. Thus I sent both boys to school today.
In long sleeves and jeans. With a light jacket.
Though I feel I should have bundled them in winter coats, since it was in the 30′s while standing at the bus stop this morning. Except it’s supposed to be 75 by the time they return home.
A 40 degree difference all in one day.
I may love fall, but I have no idea how to dress for it. And we’re all going to catch pneumonia by the time it’s over.
September 27 2011
We’ve all had those moments as parents when a certain situation strikes you upside the head with the enormity of what you’ve gotten yourself into. The damn, I’m such a mom moments. I used to be smacked with these flashes a lot when my kids were even littler and everything was new. Some were beginning milestones that were easy to explain. Like our first ride home from the hospital or staying up all night for the first time with a sick child. But then there are the smaller bits. The ones that are just enough to make you briefly pause and soak in what you’ve become.
But only briefly, because moms can’t pause for long.
I don’t get so swept away as often anymore. Mostly because I get it. I’m a mom. I have 3 kids who remind me of that constantly. If not by their actions, then definitely by the calling for my attention on an endless loop.
Every so often, however.
We had come in the door from running an errand when I heard my cell phone ring. It was in my bag. A bag that was packed. With 48 Toy Story 3 Memory game cards scattered on the bottom that Abby insisted on taking along, just-in-case diapers, stickers, suckers, crayons, souvenirs from our trip to the zoo a long time ago, and something sticky. I had to dig through it all just to get to the one item that was mine, the phone. When it struck me and I paused. I’ve already done the diaper bag, which I haven’t carried in ages. But now I have “the mom bag”.
It’s terribly harsh, but it’s true. I am such a mom.
