Category Archives: Uncategorized

The Christmas Bidet

Posted on by

bidet

It’s usually very predictable, what I get my dad for gifts.

He likes going to movies, he likes to read. He likes the leisure/sweatsuit look… preferable with a collar that can “pop”.

We’ve gotten him things to fit these well known and comfortable interests…. but this Christmas I went off the map. I strayed from the formula.

I told my sister first, “I got dad a bidet for Christmas.”

her response?

“Fabulous!”

I got him other stuff too. The token gift cards for dinner and a movie….an awesome and sentimental collage blanket….couple other small things. And the bidet. We have the same one in a couple of our bathrooms, super easy to install and use.

For some reason I really thought he’d think it was kind of cool, trendy…. finally, a gift he would never guess!

As he opened it, and looked at me with a puzzled frown, I tried to sell him on the finer points.

“You’ll save so much money on toilet paper!”

“It’s really hygienic!…..not that you aren’t hygienic…..er…. I wouldn’t know of course…….”

awkward.

loss of eye contact.

aaaaand moving on to other gifts…….. bidet sits lonely, possibly wondering why people are revolted at the thought of cleaning their behinds with its superior skills.

Probably didn’t help that I forgot the token movie/dinner gift cards in my car, and they are still sitting on the dash–waiting for their moment of appreciation.

So now dad, who is slightly paranoid, is no doubt wondering if he smells bad, or if I find him dirty, and looking for a hidden meaning behind my well intentioned gift.

I can’t wait to see him again and see if that uncomfortable chuckle keeps happening when we look at each other.

Lesson learned. Never, never buy things for your parents that might give them the impression that you suspect they have dirty butts. Even if you do suspect it…. it can never be mentioned.

Parent/child bond…. traumatized.

 

 

 

 

New things to fear

Posted on by

flight.jpg

We are going on vacation in a matter of days, flying away from here for a while. Looking forward to spending days together, it feels like it’s been forever!

Before we fly with the kids, I have all the normal stress of making sure the house is spotless, laundry all done, bills paid, bags packed, and making sure I have every possible problem figured out and solved before it happens.

But I find myself faced with a new concern, not sure it’s a problem yet, I hope it doesn’t become a problem….

I’ve been reading on various news sites about people who look suspicious, and by suspicious I mean dark complected and Arabic speaking…..who are reported by other passengers who are scared to fly with them. Just read about another instance today….. these people are detained, often miss their flights, are frisked and humiliated in front of others until ultimately they are let go, found to be not a risk after all.

The world is a crazy place right now. Will someone look at my husband, dark complected, Arabic…and think he poses a threat to them? Will they think by traveling with a white woman, he is trying to blend in, and make them more suspicious?

Will we make it on the plane?

I think we will, mostly. I do tend to think of worst case scenarios, if for no other reason than to just be prepared.

But it’s scary out there, for everyone.

We are all victims, and by “we”, I mean all of us, no matter what religion or nationality, who are not extremists. We, who are peace and family loving, no matter how we pray, or even if we pray. We who just want to live our lives, and let others live their own.

I pray for peace, for an end to the horrible things being done in the world by a group who has no business connecting themselves with Islam. And for an end to the horrible things being done to people who LOOK like they might be associated with a group that has no business connecting themselves with Islam…..

Until that day comes, I pray we can just get on that damn plane…..

 

Beyond clean…

Posted on by

dirty

It’s funny how different people can define a concept in so many unique ways.

Take the concept of clean, for example. As in “A clean room”.

To my teen, this is a very loose concept, a fluid term, can’t be pinned down to any rigid standard…. certainly not by any standards of mine that might include Windex or a vacuum cleaner.

No…

His clean is so unstructured, so free…. free of the materialistic burden of bedspreads and dirty socks, free of the narrow-minded idea that toothpaste on the sink could ever be “unclean”. Indeed, the toothpaste is clean. The sink is clean. Together, they can only be MORE clean.

He must be evolving, my small mind tries to understand.

dirty

I struggle with it.

I’m sure it’s my own fault. My faulty reasoning, that of an adult whose only remaining dream is to walk into his room without being disgusted.

I cracked today. Vacuumed up things that didn’t seem to belong on the floor by my antiquated reasoning. Toenails, fingernails, I don’t know what that other stuff is…..

Felt a small measure of peace, probably destroyed an ecosystem he was painstakingly trying to create.

Oh, I’m sure I will remain an embarrassment. Not enlightened enough to see beyond my superficial concept of clean. I hope he can forgive me one day, and learn to somehow live with my primitive addiction to Pine-sol and Clorox wipes.

….not so evolved……

 

 

Looking for gift ideas?

Posted on by
photob

gift for the husband. Ssshhhhhh, don’t tell.

 

Ok, I’m going to do you a favor because I know you are realizing how close it’s getting to Christmas…. and are probably panicking about what to get for everyone. Right?

I’m in a collage blanket phase. I think it’s my go-to gift this year. If you’re on my list, chances are you are getting one. Hope you’re cold.

I found this site. Collage.com. Check it out!!!

I love it so much that I am shamelessly promoting them completely on my own. I am getting nothing out of this but the love of sharing a great idea.

Here is how it works. They have a link for over 60% off a fleece blanket, with your photos of choice, and free shipping!  It’s $45 out the door (50×60 size). You can do AMAZING things guys!! Amazing things!

Click here…. Do it!!

Choose your blanket size, choose how fluffy you want it. Then go to town. Super easy to upload pictures, and picture quality is great. Amazingly great. I’ve ordered about a zillion. And every time I order an new one, it’s even better than the last one I made.

I got the first couple in the mail already, and I will tell you that I will probably win best gift-giver of the year award, hands down. I am going to make people cry, and it will be great.

photob1

Awwww. Best brothers.

 

 

 

That special someone

Posted on by
Some relationships are just really special..... image courtesy of shutterstock.com

Some relationships are just really special….. image courtesy of shutterstock.com

It’s really hard for me to stay in a long term, committed relationship…..with a hairstylist.

You know how it is, the same-old-thing gets boring after a while. The first few visits are something special, but after that, it’s like beep-beep-boop, done… and here is the same exact boring hair you came in with. The spark gets lost. And sometimes when I find my voice enough to specifically ask for something I really want (noticeable highlights please), I instead get what SHE thinks I meant when I said that (subtle highlights….again)

Listen. I know it’s fake. You know it’s fake. No one believes these stripes I want in my hair are natural. So just let them look a little bolder please, it’s really ok.

So I was recently searching again, for someone who would listen to me. Someone who would make me look, or at least feel beautiful for a while… and hoping for someone…….special. At a new place, because I can’t ever just pick a different stylist at the same salon. That would feel too much like cheating. I’m running out of salons.

I walked in, looking around, noticing those certain stylists who LOOK like they do the most amazing, cutting edge things to peoples hair. Always dressed in black, funky hair, effortlessly cool. Those people never end up being my stylist. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, it’s just an observation.

I tend to call at the last minute, days before I have a hair meltdown, begging for the soonest appointment with the first person available.

My new stylist comes to get me, I notice her hair first (of course)… cute, blonde, nice highlights….

This is the part I hate or love….. talking to this person. I will come back-at least for a while-if I love my hair despite the lack of connection. I’ll endure the uninterested questions “so, do you have plans this weekend?” in the bored voice that tells me you really don’t care to know what my plans are. It’s clear sometimes that you have to say something because silence is awkward, even though we have absolutely nothing in common.

But sometimes, sometimes it’s like running through a field of flowers, arms outstretched as your perfect match comes running toward you and you both beam with your perfect, corny smiles. The ONE.  The one who not only does a fantastic job on your highlights, but who really seems to “get” you. Your soul sister/stylist. How well did we connect? Well, she told me she was pregnant, and her parents don’t even know yet. (I’m totally special). We talked about deep things like spirituality, what makes our lives meaningful, and how thick my hair is. (Pretty thick).

I walked out of there with a smile on my face, feeling like a million bucks, desperately trying to commit her name to memory and hoping she doesn’t decide to quit doing hair to stay home with the baby when the time comes.

I feel pretty..... so pretty......

I feel pretty….. so pretty……

Oh…. how I love the beginning of the relationship. The honeymoon phase, when there is potential for everything to be amazing, especially my hair. Inevitably followed by the tedium of routine, and the restlessness of wanting something…..more exciting, different….. BETTER. Then, the break up. An abrupt ending, never an explanation. And always followed by the search, never-ending, for another ONE.

For now, here’s hoping the grass stays greener, and the highlights stay spectacular.

The life cycle of a preschool friendship

Posted on by
three guys

three guys

Sammy has a couple friends, made before he even knew what a friend was. The boys met during little gym classes, and it was one of those convenient friendships to cultivate because we-the moms-were also friends.

Time at the zoo, kiddie park, the splash pad at Crocker park, and plenty of birthday parties for themselves and siblings… these things have continued for the past couple years. We don’t see each other very often, but this friendship is a given. We are past the point of encouraging them to play together, they don’t need us for that anymore.

braving the inflatables together

braving the inflatables together

Well, the boys are getting older. They could be in Kindergarten next year…..

I see it looming on the horizon.

The transition between friends that mommy made for them….. and friends they will make for themselves. With kids they see all the time at school, and probably live closer to as well.

I thought about it today, at a birthday party where the boys were still all sitting together…. I wondered when this is going to end?

It makes me sad, because I know it probably will end. How many of us are friends with kids we met before the age of 3??

I’m not even friends with most people I met AFTER the age of three!!

I really like these boys. They are good kids, fun kids, and they play so well together.

in the beginning.....

in the beginning…..

They just aren’t old enough yet to maintain it, not on their own. And when they are older, it won’t be cool for mommy to bring them along to play with so-and-so just so she can see HIS mom…… they will want to hang out with little Michael next door, or Jimmy from school, not Sammy who they see every once in a while.

One day they won’t have time to remember each other, because they will be too busy discovering so many other things, so many other friends….. and this is how it goes, right??

Maybe I shouldn’t think about it. Wondering, is this the last time? The last birthday? The last train ride at the zoo?

Kind of like the way I imagine an aging couple might vaguely wonder “is this the last time?” with each further spaced moment of intimacy they share.

Surely I can’t be the only person who thinks about this stuff…

Well, for now I savor it. Sammy was so lucky to hook up with these guys, and I have enjoyed watching all of them grow and change. I hope if there is a transition away from each other, that it is painless for them, actually, I know it will be. They don’t know enough yet to understand the poignancy of an outgrown friendship. And by the time they are mature enough for this…they may not even remember each other.

Jesus, next I’ll be talking about puppies dying!…. someone slap me and get me some chocolate!

Ok, Ok…. I’m ok.

Let’s focus on the positive. Great kids. Great families. All things change, let’s just enjoy the ride.

boys5

hamming it up

My holding advice

Posted on by

Talking to my future sister-in-law today, as she frets about how her 1 month old suddenly wants to be held all the time. He cries when she puts him down. Won’t stay in his own bed all night. Won’t nap for long without waking unless he is being held. Wants to be held. All. The. Time.

So she asks me for advice.

Is she kidding???? courtesy of: Pixshark.com

Is she kidding????
courtesy of: Pixshark.com

I may not be the best person to ask, seeing as how I have not been successful in forcing independence on my own children…. but I guess desperation makes people, well, desperate.

So I told her what I could.

Mostly about how Sammy did the same thing. I held him constantly, and when I did attempt to put his cute little baby head down for a nap, he was up within 15 minutes and looking for those comfy arms again. Some days, I would just give up trying to let him sleep alone. I gave up and watched a damn movie that he would sleep “like a baby” through, as long as I kept holding him.

We talked about baby-wearing, which is supposed to raise more independent and confident children in the long run.

The whole family tried baby wearing

The whole family tried baby wearing

So this was a way to hold the baby without having to hold the baby. Theoretically, you can get a lot of stuff done since your hands are free. I was too nervous, and still kept a hand on the baby. Plus, I probably didn’t try using the wrap enough to get comfortable with it. Once I had it on, it felt stifling to me. Trying to get the baby out fast when she started to cry was a little difficult, as was shimmying my way out of it if I didn’t want to try untying it first. I got my first wrap with Sammy, and remember one day trying to cut the grass on a muggy summer evening. I was in “super mom” mode, determined to do all the things I was doing before having the baby.

My initial confidence waned as each pass over the lawn (with my electric, NOT self-propelled mower) resulted in a hotter, sweatier me…. and a decidedly droopy baby in the carrier. He started out with head right under my chin…and ended nestled in my chest, as the material stretched and bounced with each plodding step. I envisioned him eventually dangling somewhere around the knees, swaying and being bumped along as I walked.

I saw other moms breezing through the grocery story, the park, life in general…with a smiling baby tucked inside their sling or wrap. I was jealous of these perfect moms, who could wear their babies so effortlessly.

smug much?? amazon.com

smug much??
amazon.com

So, I just held mine. A lot. I still do.

All I can really say is that eventually. EVENTUALLY….they don’t want to be held so much. I doubt I could get my 17 year old on my hip anymore…although she was the one who broke it in for the others.

As for the sleeping alone bit…. I’m definitely not qualified to give advice on this. I share a pillow with one or two other people most nights.  All I can say is, who WOULDN’T want someone nice and warm to cuddle with?? And if all else fails, and you need to try doing something else besides holding your little one during their nap, try letting someone else sleep with them!! 🙂

nap1

 

 

 

Drive Thru Phobia

Posted on by

courtesy of: hautemealz.com

Sometimes I am out in the car, alone or with kid(s) and decide to drive through someplace for food.

I don’t do it often, and maybe that’s part of the reason I have such a hard time doing it.

My drive through experiences often end up with me frustrated, disappointed, anxious, and still hungry for…..something. Sometimes if there is another person in the car with me….we argue.

Why?

Well, it goes something like this:

A vague conversation about getting lunch…..or me thinking I should stop somewhere if I’m driving around for work and know I won’t get another chance to eat.

I pull into the drive through.

Sit behind several cars, not able to read the menu, not able to remember specific things I might like on the menu.

Get anxious because I don’t know what I want and I need to think of something……what was that chicken thing I liked that one time????

Squint, and try to read the menu from back here….impossible.

Ask people-if I’m not alone- what they want. If they are older than 4, this can be helpful, because they might actually know what they want. If they are under 4, they might ignore me completely, stare at me blankly, or tell me something not remotely close to what is offered at this place.

Get closer. Am I sweating?

Why don’t they make the menu bigger, so I can read it before I have to order?

Why can’t I think of ANYTHING????!!!

Shit. I’m next.

Do I want a baked potato? Salad? Fish sandwich?

I pull up to the speaker, stuck in the middle of a huge menu wall. Frantically trying to find something, anything that looks like I might want it.

via fontsinuse.com

via fontsinuse.com

TOO MANY CHOICES.

My brain shuts down.

Oh god, it’s been 14 seconds, I ask for a minute….. the person says yes…. but I know they are rolling their eyes, and probably muting their microphone as they tell their friends what the hell was this lady doing the whole time she was in line, she still doesn’t know what she wants….. and the cars are just sitting there, waiting behind me.

So I just order. Blindly and often stupidly. Things I don’t eat, things I won’t eat. Just to ease this panic welling up because everyone is just waiting for me to make up my damn mind! I feel very unsatisfied as I pull up to pay for the bag of things I don’t want. The girl at the window looks smug. I’m pretty sure she knows I just freaked out back there.

If there is anyone else in the car with me, we might argue about why I only ordered one milkshake, or some tiny thing off the dollar menu for two of us…. or how I embarrassed them by asking for a minute when everyone in the world knows you just DON’T ask for a minute at the drive thru and obviously I’m just not fit to be out here, driving around in society like this…

But usually this happens most when I have no one old enough to guide me through this awful experience and I am forced to rely on my own decision making abilities. Which are pretty bad to begin with, but add a little anxiety and they just go away….

As I pull away, I glance into the bag.

Right.

And look for anther place to try again.

 

 

 

Not my best week

Posted on by

I’ve never been the most graceful person on the best of days…. and I’m downright dangerous on the worst of days…

This past week has, for some reason, been especially difficult for me. Difficult to stay upright. Difficult to avoid being injured. Was it a full moon? I don’t know…..

I started the week out wearing a pair of heels to work. I’ve had them for years, they are not high….but they are skinny. I usually wear flats, but certain pants need a little more, you know?

So I wear them. All is well. I can walk decently.

Then I decide to take the stairs on my way home. One flight. Concrete stairs. As I’m texting.

the stairs.

the stairs.

Yes, I fell. Somehow ended up holding myself up on the railing after an impressive knee scraping and double ankle twisting. Sadly, the left shoe also suffered a scrape that removed the color and I don’t have a marker to match that….

The next day, I’m back at work. I hop up onto a desk to sit for a moment. I do this ALL THE TIME. Suddenly, this time, a cabinet came out of nowhere and whacked me in the side of the head. Then acted like it was there the whole time.

This time I had small audience. Embarrassing, but what can I do but laugh, and hope I don’t have a concussion.

That same night.

I am sitting, doing homework with the 13 year old who broke his right arm and needs me to write out his math, longhand. So….I’m not in the best mood, trying to get his math and then social studies questions done….and the little ones need a bath…. thinking of all the things I need to do before I can get to bed that night…..

17 year old comes home from work. “Hey mom, I got your favorite candy!”

I turn my head.

21food.com

21food.com

INTO a Twix missile. Launched at my face, and it strikes me square between the eyes.

Really, intensely painful. Why would you throw that at my head??

After I took some deep breaths. Warned everyone to just not talk to me for a moment…. I got up to look at my face. Come back…where is that Twix?

She let the FOUR year old eat it.

Next day. Same 17 year old is doing dishes as we clean up from dinner. In her fun mode. Acts like she’s going to throw a plate at me. With wet, soapy hands.

So…. she threw the plate.

Shatters ALL over the floor in front of me.

Had the presence of mind to beg for mercy before I could react.

This is not everything. But you get the idea.

courtesy of graphite.org

courtesy of graphite.org