Archive for the ‘life’ Tag
May 16 2011
The boys had mini-blinds in their room at first. It didn’t take long before those cheap window coverings were worn ragged, however. Time spent kicking at them, tying up their toys, brutally forcing the slats apart to see outside, it all took its toll. When I couldn’t stand the sight any longer, they were replaced. Then again. A few times over. Until those cheap window coverings began to get a bit expensive.
Clearly they had to have something covering their window, but the blinds were obviously a poor choice. And so I bought a rod and blue curtains. I then settled in for the rest of our days not needing to worry about their window dressing any longer.
Until Buzz broke the rod. Pulled it down and snapped the thing in half. My determination, distraught and annoyed, was yet unwavering.
What else could I do but purchase another, only to have it be met with the same dastardly fate. I may have been determined, but Buzz seemed just as determined to undermine my attempts.
By this point, I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. It had become a ridiculous daily stress that I didn’t need. It’s just curtains. They’re not really that necessary.
Instead, I grabbed some nails and nailed those curtains in place once and for all.
Windows are a bizarre hiding spot for inspiration but I’m grabbing the metaphorical life lesson within: Determination is key. Do not throw your hands up in defeat, even if it seems like you’re running out of options. If all else fails, nail the damn thing down.
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 20 2011
The countdown, it starts ticking ever louder even before the afternoon is over. I peer at the clock between the 67th round of dress-up as the second-hand turns in slow-motion. While I’m winding down, the kids are gearing up. Their voices talk over each other until it’s all just noise. Noisy noise, making my head hurt. Is it time yet?
3 hours: I think I can, I think I can.
Dinnertime, when my two youngest know I’m preoccupied and take advantage of the opportunity. They jump on couches after I warn against and streak through the house at the speed of light. When they’re finally quiet, it’s too quiet. Most likely because they’ve been in the bathroom, splashing in a sink full of water. I spend our meal urging them to sit, to eat, to not throw food on the floor. How much longer?
2 hours: It’s official, this night is never going to end.
Try to regain my wits after the catastrophe of dinner. The kids, however, are always hyped up like I gave them bowls of sugar for their meal. They are a tornado of constant conflict sweeping through, making a mess of destruction in their path. My moment of zen is fleeting and laughable. Cue the tiny violins as I chant curses at the clock.
1 hour: The light, I can see it, though very faint.
Clean up. Baths. Brushing teeth. Diapers. Pajamas. Chaos. Does it ever stop? Gather kids together like a ranch hand herding cattle, with not as much luck. Stare impatiently at the time. Why don’t these kids ever act tired? I’m exhausted. Disheveled. Done.
5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
Bedtime! Sweet, beautiful bedtime. Does it make me a bad mom that I love you so?
April 18 2011
Going to the grocery store is a necessary evil. If I go by myself, it can be a nice break, but it’s still a hassle. If I must go with one of the kids, though, it’s usually Buzz. We try to laugh, we smile at those we pass and Buzz is a friendly sort who waves hello to everyone.
This afternoon, however, there was this woman. She was with her teenage daughter whose face was hidden by an abundance of black eyeliner, arms in a permanent cross every time we passed. Which was a few times. After a couple run-ins, I noticed her sizing up the contents of my cart. And then she looked at me. Not in a friendly sort of way. I then watched as she turned to her already derisive daughter for someone to share in her uppity comments.
What the hell, lady?!
I spent the remainder of our time at the grocery store wondering why this woman looked at me.
- She wanted a piece of my Double Fudge Brownie ice cream.
- My bunch of bananas was taunting her.
- Did I inadvertently lob a can of corn at her head?
- She was upset because my kid is cuter than her kid. And a lot less angsty.
- She was jealous at how awesome I am. And younger. Because these tired bags under my eyes, they just scream young and awesome.
In other words, I have no idea. Though I do know it doesn’t take a lot to be nice, even at the grocery store. Why make a chore no one really wants to do even worse? I’m not all rainbows and puppies here, but smile. Save your dirty looks and snark for another time. Like on your blog. Blogs are great for that kind of thing.
I'm Crystal. A 30-something mom to 3 young kids living in the Midwest USA. When I'm not chasing my children, I'm a freelance writer and web designer. I like to tell stories from our days and share what we enjoy...
