Category Archives: Random thoughts

The Mommy Shuffle

JR’s been in Houston all weekend (he left Friday night) and I think Claire’s pissed. She hasn’t been sleeping. I figured she either loves me so much that she wants to spend ALL her time with me, or she wants me to die. Of exhaustion.

I’m betting on the second one.

Friday night at 1:45, she woke up. She used to just mumble a little bit in her crib, whine some and go right back to sleep. Not Friday night. She woke me up with a scream that I likened to someone clubbing her with a….well, club.

I ran in her room, expecting blood, or gore, or at least a mangled limb of some sort. Nope. She was fine. She giggled, gave me her empty milk cup and raised her arms to be picked up. Wide awake.

This, in case you weren’t sure, wasn’t the time to play. I told her that, but she wasn’t having it. So I picked her up, expecting her to curl in my arms and put her head on my shoulder, like she usually does.

I don’t I have to tell you that she didn’t do that. She wiggled around, wanting to get down. I sat in the rocking chair and started singing “You Are My Sunshine.” She calmed down a bit and allowed me to rock her for about 10 minutes. By this time she had rolled over so her head was back on my shoulder, where it belonged. I stood up and walked over to her crib. But, she had a firm grip on my shirt. I was going to have to wait until she was asleep to put her down.

I rocked back and forth, shushing, for another 10 minutes. Then, very quietly and very carefully, I put her feet over the side of the crib. She moved and I took that oppertunity to put her down. She lay her head on the pillow, but her eyes were wide open. I covered her up, and started to walk out of the room.

“WAHHHH!”

Back up. I walked back over to the crib, laid her back down, and patted her back. The whole time I was shush-shush-shushing. She put her head down and pulled her legs under. More shushing, and more patting. About 5 minutes later, I stopped patting and just held my hand on her back.

The problem with this whole thing is that I was bent at the waist. My back hurt, my legs hurt and my arm was starting to go numb from the lack of blood circulating. I tried to put my head on my left arm and take some pressure off my lower back. This worked for a while, but in order to not fall, I had to bend my knees.

The weird thing is after about 5 more minutes of this, my heels started to fall asleep. I tried to look at her eyes to see if they were closed, but it was dark. I mean, it was 2:30 in the morning! So I looked at her ear to try to see her eyes peripherally. This didn’t work so well and now my fingers were numb, along with my right heel and the part under my left arm that was pushed up against the crib.

So, I took a chance. I lifted my hand up, hovering it over her back in case she woke up. She didn’t move. So, I straightened my back (ouch, by the way) and took a step back. She still hadn’t moved.

I took a deep breath, and turned around. I turned the doorknob and opened the door. Still asleep. Victory! I stepped out to the hall and started to close the door when I hear her cry again.

I closed the door, and she was back asleep before I got to the end of the hall.

Which I’m sure would have happened if I had just walked out the first time I tried.

*sigh*

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How I can transistion from cleaning products to poo in one fluid motion

OK.  That’s enough of that.  I can’t stand to look at my whining anymore. So, I’m going to write about something else.  But, I don’t know what.  Nothing too exciting has been happening here.  I purchased some OxiClean on Tuesday (actually, it was the off brand – half the price of the regular one) and can I tell you how awesome it is?  It’s awesome!  I had two weird, brown spots on my carpet.  They were about a foot wide and I really don’t know where they came from.  Anyway, 1/8 of a scoop in 2 cups of water, scrub scrub scrub with some cloth diapers, dry and it’s gone.  A.MAZ.ING.

 

See, now I think I’ve hit a new low.  Seriously.  I have nothing to talk about my go-to topic is household cleaning supplies?  Ugh. 

 

I said to my friend the other day, “Hey, I’m somebody’s mother.”  And the phrase got tripped up on my tongue.  Is it normal, 16 months after their birth, to STILL not feel like a mother?  This may sound weird, but I know she’s my DAUGHTER, but I don’t feel like a MOTHER.  Ok, I’m a little dumb.

 

Seriously ya’ll, nothing has been happening.  The funniest thing that’s happened to me this week is that I had one too many cups of coffee one morning and had to….you know…drop the kids off at the pool (side note, one of the guys that was a councilor with me at Uof M that summer used to say that he had to Make.  Which cracks me up a little bit.) (Oh, side note again.  When JR worked for Major Computer Company, the guys would keep track of how many times they would…make….in a day and circle the date on the calendar if they went more than 3 times.  In one day. That’s exhausting!).  Anyway, I had to poo and as I was in mid…..drop…..(god, this is getting more and more gross), someone walked in.  I was so embarrassed, I went home at lunch to chance my shoes so no one would know it was me.  

 

See?  That’s all I got.  Boring.

 

 

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Turns out my memory’s not so bad

My memory is not great.  I remember weird things.  When I was in 1st grade, we lived in Denver.  I don’t remember much about living there.  I remember having my bedroom in the basement; I thought it was awesome because I had the whole place to myself.  I remember standing outside and watching a green, swirling funnel cloud in the sky.  I remember that my 1st grade teacher was Korean and taught us her language and one time we had a Korean dinner and my dad came with me and he taught me how to use chopsticks.  We learned the Korean word for everything in the classroom, and we had a large purple dragon that helped us.  I remember one birthday there.  We were poor, but it was summer in Colorado so my mom organized a Big Wheels decorating party.  We hung streamers from the handlebars and put colorful cards in the spokes and had a parade down the street.  And I remember how our shed smelled.  I can’t describe it, and I haven’t smelled it since, but it was always comforting to me.

 

I remember when first moved to Texas, we lived in a rental at the end of a cul-d-sac.  There were kids that lived a few houses down, a brother and sister, and the girl was my age and the boy was Mikey’s age.  We went over to their house a lot; they had a Nintendo.  I remember that the girl stood with her feet in a sort of a T shape, but spread apart.  Left foot straight, right foot turned at a 45 degree angle, about a foot away.  I started standing like that.  Our next door neighbor had two very large snakes, and hosted the best haunted houses, and taught us how to stick a pin in a balloon without popping it.

 

I remember moving to New Braunfels when I was in 7th grade and hearing some stupid boy ask me if I was a girl or a boy because I had very short hair.  I remember my first dance, and my first boyfriend asking me to dance to Garth Brooks.  I remember being a “lawyer” in my history class for the Big Bad Wolf, fighting the 3 Little Pigs, and staying up late preparing for the trial.  I went in very prepared, but at the last minute one girl wanted to be questioned.  I won the trial, but lost on a technicality – that girl was in the jury and couldn’t vote.  I was so mad.

 

I remember in high school dressing up as a Nerd during Homecoming week.  We had a pep rally and the whole school voted for Best Nerd.  I won because I was dating a drummer and the whole line banged on their drums so loud, there was no question.  I remember how mad I was when, during my senior year, I found out that we weren’t going to go on our senior year band trip because some kids were caught with alcohol at the retreat.  I remember coming back from a One-Act competition, after we lost and didn’t get to move on, and hearing my mom tell me that a good friend had killed himself that night.  Everyone laughed when they saw me sobbing – they thought it was because we lost.  I remember leaving the after party with some friends, and the driver stopped at a stop sign.  Left would be home, right would have been over the same bridge Casey jumped off not 4 hours earlier.  I couldn’t speak, or move, or yell at him to stop, but his girlfriend sensed something was wrong and told him to go left.  I avoid driving over that bridge every time I go home.

 

I remember dating that same first boyfriend again in college, staying with him at night and driving, in the early morning light down one of the best drives in the area, back to school.  I remember the feeling I got when I found out that he was cheating on me with my best friend, although I don’t know if he was really cheating because we weren’t dating.  I remember meeting my first love, and my first, on the way to a Bands of America contest, and on the way home, sitting the back and putting my feet on the arm rest a feeling the weight of his arm around them.  I remember throwing my phone number that I wrote on an impossibly small piece of paper at him, and being heart broken when he didn’t call.  Turns out he never got that 1” piece of paper and spent the next 2 weeks tracking me down.  I remember sitting in my friend’s white ford pickup truck while he wrapped my soul up and gave it to me in a Jeff Buckley CD case.  I remember crying as he told me about the summer he spent in Paris working on an album for his band, where he met a girl.  The girl, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.  But, life doesn’t stop when one’s in Paris and soon he had to go home.  He never saw her again.

 

I remember my brother coming to stay with me for a weekend and leaving a party 10 minutes before it was busted by the cops.  I remember staying up all night, smoking and drinking coffee, studying for my chemistry final.  I remember falling in and out of love so many times.  I remember going to my friend’s beach house and “antiquing” boys that had passed out.  I remember lying in bed with my ex-boyfriend-re-boyfriend-best-friend and hearing him tell me that Casey had, in fact, left a suicide note and that it said that he would only miss three people.  I was one of them.  I remember meeting my husband, furry faced, and a little smelly the night he came home from a week in Big Bend.  I was depressed that I didn’t live in Europe and he talked to me all night about my travels.  I remember the night he proposed and the night we got married.  I remember where I was when I –knew- I was pregnant.  I remember holding Claire for the first time.

 

But, I don’t remember where I was when I heard about Waco, or Oklahoma City, or The Gulf War.  I don’t remember hearing about the Challenger explosion, or the day we invaded Iraq.

 

7 years ago today I was sitting in my dorm’s common area, eyes fixed to the TV as the second tower fell.  I was sitting next to Krista and she was crying.  I remember that day.

 

My kid will ask me where I was, just like I asked my mom where she was when Kennedy got shot.  And I’ll remember.  I’ll always remember.

 

 

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Take eleventy and one.

I’ve started a new post eleventy times, and they all end up the same:

“Wah, I’m bored.  I hate my job.  My house is a diaster zone.  We have too much shit.  I want to move. ”

And I know what you’re thinking: get a new job, clean up your house, have a garage sale and quit yer bitching (well, that’s how you’d say it if you lived in Texas like me). 

I will, I will, I will and NO you can’t make me.

But it’s true.  I need to quit bitching.  I need to clean my house and not spend all night after Claire goes to bed in the garage, watching the Olympics.  I need to get rid of a lot of things in our house that we don’t use and I think once I declutter the house, I’ll be better equipted to declutter my head.

It’s a little overwhelming, especially since it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting any help.  Unless I nag and beg and barter.  And I just won’t do that. 

So tell me, what are your best organizing tricks?  How do I scale down the amount of useless shit that keeps piling up?  Where should I start?

Help me!

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How I spent my weekend

My mom has always been very emotional.  We always make fun of her because she cries at Hallmark commercials (OMG, I bet she’s a mess with these Visa commercials).  One of my favorite stories of her crying in public is right before my little brother went to college.  She went to the grocery store and was standing in the shampoo aisle when, as she puts it, it hit her.  She just started bawling.  She says she stood really close to the shelves to minimize the amount of people that saw her.

She doesn’t just cry.  She laughs a lot.  JR cracks her up.  In fact, one of the first times they met was at her friend’s Christmas party.  There was a band playing and JR asked her to dance.  They started two stepping in the kitchen, her laughing the whole time, and all of the sudden she ran out of the room.  We didn’t see her for about 30 minutes after that.

I love the fact that she can laugh so easily.  I love making her laugh.  It’s easy, sure, but hearing her laugh as hard as she does really makes my day.  

We went to a bar Saturday night for her birthday.  It’s a piano bar in San Marcos where I went to college and where my little brother is going now.  It’s her favorite place in the world, I think.  Because it was her birthday, she had quite a few drinks.  6 rum-and-cokes and a shot, to be exact.  In 4 hours.  I don’t think I need to say that she was pretty drunk when we left at one.  

JR took my mom and her friend back to my dad’s house (Oh, I didn’t mention that we were staying at my dad’s -her exhusband’s- house?  He was out of town, but you know.  Weird.) and I took my little brother back to his apartment.  I pull into my dad’s driveway and JR immediatly comes to the car.

“You need to come to the deck right now.  You won’t believe what your mom did.”

At this point, nothing would surprise me.  She had already been on stage, with “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” playing in the background, and two 30 something men grinding on her.  One of them even opened his shirt and licked her foot.  I had seen her take a jello shot (and then another, and another), heard someone tell her to “take off your shirt and take this shot,” offered pot.  Surely she wouldn’t surprise me.

I was wrong.  I walked around to the back deck and noticed a puddle on the ground.  I didn’t think too much of it; I thought someone had spilled a beer.  I made a mental note to wash it off in the morning.  Then I noticed that my mom wasn’t outside.  And that her friend and my friend (who was there to watch Claire) were laughing so hard that I was sure one of them would fall out of their chair.

My mother walked back out to the deck and explained, between bouts of drunken laughter, what happened.  

She peed on the deck.

I’ll wait a second for that to absorb.  

She peed on the deck.  

My father’s deck.  Her EXHUSBAND’s deck.  

I’m not even 100% sure how it happened.  Drunky McDrinks-a-lot made it seem like Rachael (her friend) walked in the house and saw JR talking to my friend.  She asked my mom, who was standing out on the deck, “who that girl was.”  

And my mom laughed so hard that she peed.  Apparently she said, “Oh!  I’m peeing!  It’s running down my leg!  I’m peeing!”

By the way, the reason she left the Christmas party after dancing with JR in the kitchen?  She peed her pants.  She ran into the bathroom, and when she couldn’t dry them off with the hairdryer, went home to change.

This is my life.

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I can’t be the only one…

…who gets REALLY turned on while watching So You Think You Can Dance.

Can I?

I’ve been watching the last two weeks, and I just saw Mark and Courtney’s waltz.  

It was, for lack of a better word, tingley.  I can’t help it; I love a strong man in a white shirt and loosened skinny tie.

roar.

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countdown. 3 1/2 days

Dude.  I’m peeling and I haven’t even been to the beach yet.  We went to the pool last weekend and I got a little red on my chest.  Now the area between my boobs is all peely and itchy.  And it itches the more I think about it.

 

Countdown to Road Trip from Hell – T-Minus 3 ½ days.  And we still haven’t really done anything.  I’ve gone grocery shopping, and done Claire’s laundry, but I have SO MUCH to do yet.

 

When I stressed, I like to make a list.  Here’s what I have to do before Thursday  night:
 

  • Clean out the car
  • Get an oil change
  • Pack Claire
  • Pack myself
  • Pack JR
  • Repack the porta-crib so its not 17 feet wide
  • Record The Biscuit Brothers onto my camera
  • Burn The Biscuit Brothers onto DVDs
  • Find 4 towels
  • Find Claire’s sunscreen
  • Find out when we’re taking the dogs to our friend’s house
  • Pack the cooler
  • Figure out what’s going in the backseat and what’s going in the trunk
  • Move the car seat to behind the driver’s side so we can sleep in the car
  • Find the recipe for Shrimp Perlo

 

So yeah.  That’s a lot.  But don’t worry!  JR found things to do if we need to stop.  Like this  and this .

 

Thanks honey.  You’ve been a HUGE help.

 

I wish I could take this week off to prepare for next week.  But, as soon as we get there, it’ll be like nothing was ever stressing me out.  I’ll look out the back door of the house and see the ocean.  I’ll walk 40 feet and my feet will be in the water.  I’ll be with some of my favorite people in the world.  I’m so glad we can go.  I’m so glad my husband and daughter get to experience this wonderful tradition.  

 

This is a real vacation.  There’s nothing planning except getting up and going to the beach.  Sometimes we go deep sea fishing.  Sometimes we go shopping.  But mostly, we hang out with the family and relax. 

 

I can’t wait.

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