It's been a long tim since I've blogged about kids. I think today is the day. I will now start with the obligatory Mom's Praise for Her Offspring. Shouldn't that be "Outspring"? Or "Squeezes So Hard Your Eyeballs Go Cross"?
My children have great patience while I have lost mine.
Their best friend is a child that I am going to refer as Spongebob because he IS THAT ANNOYING. Ok. I have a heart as cold as ice. Puppies and kitties don't make me melt. Babies scare the bejeebus out of me. Butterflies are ok though.
Spongebob is one of those children that makes at least 4 or 5 attempts at eating your food each and every time he walks through your frontdoor. I can't afford to feed him I wish I could, but right now I just cannot. My cold, unfeeling heart is showing to some of you while to others I just appear pragmatic.
Spongebob also makes loud grating arghs, urghs, grrs, and raspberry noises constantly. He is incapable of refraining from making those sounds. I'm noise sensitive, and when I listen to music, I don't want hear Spongebob's weird gutteral utterences. I'm stressed out, wound tighter than kite string. The English don't even come close. So when I need down time listening to drunken alternative country or smooth world music composed to the sounds of a river, god damn it that's all I want to hear!
I love to watch the kids dancing. Pinkie and Zilla listen to the music's melody and rhythm and create interpretive dances for our amusement. Spongebob is a different story, and I have to admit right now I'm laughing about his antics. He saw the kiddos dancing and thought it was hilarious which brought out a torrent of arhgh-ha-ha-ha-arrhg's. For some reason they always get friends who don't dance as a recreation and their reactions are always so funny.
Spongebob stuck his tongue out and started contorting his body in a fashion that just a few hundred years ago would have had him burned at the stake for being possessed by demons. He was making the Noises too, drowning out the stereo. At the time it annoyed me because the music is what was inspiring my own children to move and we couldn't hear it because of him. I made everyone leave the room so I could work on my project in the peace and quiet of the song "Fuck this Town". I know I was tired. There's no other excuse.
So onto the part where I discuss what seems to me an infinite surplus of patience that resides in my children's souls. Those two people that I brought forth into this world are amazing to me. They accept and love folk for who they are regardless of "differences" that might be there. They are "long suffering". I learned when I was a child that that attribute was a virtue. I lost it somewhere along the line, but I have two role models that live me to take my cues from.
As a side note...they just turned on Spongebob Squarepants.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Nothing like being a grown up
When acting like the hot, sophisticated, older woman in a class where everyone's at least 10 years your junior....make sure you don't have mustard from your lunch dried on your neck!!!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
No, I don't care if I'm classist
I love this town. I've felt safe here and wanted to raise my babies here. I remember walking late at night after the bars closed by myself and not feeling too uncomfortable. That of course was pre-baby and crazy marriage (10 years ago). This town was so safe and welcoming.
Now I'm pissed and slightly Unnerved. PA was mugged last week. By privileged college boys. Smashed a bottle on his head, kicked him in the ribs a couple of times when he was unconscious on the ground, and took off with his wallet. They took off with our rent. Effing effers.
It's not bad enough to have a relationship hanging on by a monofilament, but add the financial shit (and shit it is), I'm about to have another nervous breakdown. I can not afford that. I don't know anyone who can really. There is one lesson that I learned and I've really tried not to accept it but I'm weak and now I don't like/trust frat boys. Point out more than a few good ones, and I'll change my mind. Ok. I had those feelings while in college, but it's been so long, and I forgot about the little trustfund bastards.
You'd think their parents would instill a conscientious philosophy like ummm...don't steal especially from the poor. I know after a point you can't do a thing about it, but I swear if my kids turn out like that I'll spank the crap out of them. I don't care how old they (or I) might be.
Aahhh. Panic attack over. Breathing coming back to normal. Not a drop of beer in the house.
Hmmm...Panic attack coming back.
Now I'm pissed and slightly Unnerved. PA was mugged last week. By privileged college boys. Smashed a bottle on his head, kicked him in the ribs a couple of times when he was unconscious on the ground, and took off with his wallet. They took off with our rent. Effing effers.
It's not bad enough to have a relationship hanging on by a monofilament, but add the financial shit (and shit it is), I'm about to have another nervous breakdown. I can not afford that. I don't know anyone who can really. There is one lesson that I learned and I've really tried not to accept it but I'm weak and now I don't like/trust frat boys. Point out more than a few good ones, and I'll change my mind. Ok. I had those feelings while in college, but it's been so long, and I forgot about the little trustfund bastards.
You'd think their parents would instill a conscientious philosophy like ummm...don't steal especially from the poor. I know after a point you can't do a thing about it, but I swear if my kids turn out like that I'll spank the crap out of them. I don't care how old they (or I) might be.
Aahhh. Panic attack over. Breathing coming back to normal. Not a drop of beer in the house.
Hmmm...Panic attack coming back.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
What a Stressed Out Family Needs
I've been stressed out. This week especially. I usually sleep 7-8 hours, but this past week I'd be lucky to 5 hours at night that were sporadic at best. So after my 4th night in a row of my laying on my bed instead of sleeping, I got up for a mini vacation for my stressed out family. We went to Worlds of Fun.
I have so many fond memories of that place when I was young. My family having the rare moments of fun together, long sweaty lines of people, weird paper parasol/flower things, fistfuls of gummy worms, the Orient Express, my first make out session was on top of the old river boat during a church youth outing. Seriously, the sexiest place was church youth group.
Yesterday provided more fond memories that even a bitchy strangerlady from Iowa could not squelch. Neither of my children bickered. My folks and PA got along great. Me and PA got along great. There weren't that many people there on such a beautiful day. It was the perfect day to go.
One thing I love about amusement parks is that you can test your fear level or maybe not in some cases. This was my kids' first time in an establishment not run by carnies and that had rides large enough for some serious liability insurance policies. I can be pragmatic at times.
My son went on the Mamba which is BIG. I have a fear of heights, and I went up it without looking around and clutched so hard to the car that my hand hurt afterward. I was too frightened to turn and look at my son let alone anything else. I can just imagine what he was feeling during that ride. He didn't make a sound even though PA let out a few choice words on the initial dropoff. I'm so proud of him (Zilla), but he and I agree that we're not going on that one again. He's smart. He know his limits.
Pinkie's turn for feeling the fear of death came towards the end of the day when she felt slightly left out and decided to join in for the wooden rollercoaster. It's not as high as the previous, but it's daunting for a 6 YO. We got up to the line , and RIGHT before we were to step into the car, she had a Nervous Pee Attack. She bounced up and down till me and her left through the chicken gate.
I don't care. I'm not one to push if they're not ready.
So, I got her to Granma and waited for Zilla, PA, and Grampa to return, so I could go on it with someone. Well, luck would have it that Granma and Pinkie returned before the boys showed up, and Pinkie decided that she would go on it this time.
Now, I don't push, but if they feel they are ready for something like a thrill ride then fine they can go.
We get on the contraption, and all was fine except for some teasing from PA. It started. PA informed her that she could scream if she wanted, and I confirmed that it was true. I even scream from time to time. All was shakey but fine. Then the first dip...not a sound. I kept my arms around the poor girl to give her some comfort. I couldn't really see her face, but I should have realized from the lack of sound she thought she was going to meet her maker.
I know, we were sitting next to and behind her, so why that fear?
We get to the end after what seemed an eternity of my daughter locked in the grips of fear. The train of death stops, and we exit. She starts to cry. PA picked up the poor frightened little girl who then screamed for Momma. Damn! Mom guilt sets in! What do I do?! We buy the picture!
Worlds Of Fun has a delightful practice of taking pictures of people whilst on the rides. The picture for this ride shows the true essence of what those few minutes were like for my poor Pinkie. Of course, we all laughed because honestly the girl had the best expression on her face. She clenched her teeth the WHOLE time while grasping the front of the car even though my arms were around her.
So much for Mom Guilt. The picture now has a place of honor on the shelf in my kitchen. I'm so proud of my dysfunctional family! All of us looked at our fears in the eye. I and my fear of heights, Pinkie and Zilla and their impending doom, and PA and his fear of hanging out with my parents. We all successfully had a good time despite those fears!
And I got 10 hours of sleep!
I have so many fond memories of that place when I was young. My family having the rare moments of fun together, long sweaty lines of people, weird paper parasol/flower things, fistfuls of gummy worms, the Orient Express, my first make out session was on top of the old river boat during a church youth outing. Seriously, the sexiest place was church youth group.
Yesterday provided more fond memories that even a bitchy strangerlady from Iowa could not squelch. Neither of my children bickered. My folks and PA got along great. Me and PA got along great. There weren't that many people there on such a beautiful day. It was the perfect day to go.
One thing I love about amusement parks is that you can test your fear level or maybe not in some cases. This was my kids' first time in an establishment not run by carnies and that had rides large enough for some serious liability insurance policies. I can be pragmatic at times.
My son went on the Mamba which is BIG. I have a fear of heights, and I went up it without looking around and clutched so hard to the car that my hand hurt afterward. I was too frightened to turn and look at my son let alone anything else. I can just imagine what he was feeling during that ride. He didn't make a sound even though PA let out a few choice words on the initial dropoff. I'm so proud of him (Zilla), but he and I agree that we're not going on that one again. He's smart. He know his limits.
Pinkie's turn for feeling the fear of death came towards the end of the day when she felt slightly left out and decided to join in for the wooden rollercoaster. It's not as high as the previous, but it's daunting for a 6 YO. We got up to the line , and RIGHT before we were to step into the car, she had a Nervous Pee Attack. She bounced up and down till me and her left through the chicken gate.
I don't care. I'm not one to push if they're not ready.
So, I got her to Granma and waited for Zilla, PA, and Grampa to return, so I could go on it with someone. Well, luck would have it that Granma and Pinkie returned before the boys showed up, and Pinkie decided that she would go on it this time.
Now, I don't push, but if they feel they are ready for something like a thrill ride then fine they can go.
We get on the contraption, and all was fine except for some teasing from PA. It started. PA informed her that she could scream if she wanted, and I confirmed that it was true. I even scream from time to time. All was shakey but fine. Then the first dip...not a sound. I kept my arms around the poor girl to give her some comfort. I couldn't really see her face, but I should have realized from the lack of sound she thought she was going to meet her maker.
I know, we were sitting next to and behind her, so why that fear?
We get to the end after what seemed an eternity of my daughter locked in the grips of fear. The train of death stops, and we exit. She starts to cry. PA picked up the poor frightened little girl who then screamed for Momma. Damn! Mom guilt sets in! What do I do?! We buy the picture!
Worlds Of Fun has a delightful practice of taking pictures of people whilst on the rides. The picture for this ride shows the true essence of what those few minutes were like for my poor Pinkie. Of course, we all laughed because honestly the girl had the best expression on her face. She clenched her teeth the WHOLE time while grasping the front of the car even though my arms were around her.
So much for Mom Guilt. The picture now has a place of honor on the shelf in my kitchen. I'm so proud of my dysfunctional family! All of us looked at our fears in the eye. I and my fear of heights, Pinkie and Zilla and their impending doom, and PA and his fear of hanging out with my parents. We all successfully had a good time despite those fears!
And I got 10 hours of sleep!
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