Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Back to school time always makes me feel a little nostalgic. I miss going out and getting a fresh set of school supplies and a whole new wardrobe. I also miss getting ready to go off to college, having a new place to live and a fresh beginning each school year. I really miss buying books. I know they were freaking expensive and then I barely referenced them throughout the semester, but I always really looked forward to that experience. Now, when I'm out and about I see other people preparing for school and it makes me a little sad. Maybe next year, when I'm sending someone else off to his first day of school, I will feel entirely different about the whole affair. But for now I will revel in the nostalgia of it all.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
This is what Eric called out from the living room earlier, as I was in the kitchen. I didn't respond promptly, so a moment later I heard, "Oooooh Kwistiiiiii...we got some TWUH-BO in HEEEER." I knew I couldn't go into the living room laughing, so I had to collect myself before I investigated the trouble. Turned out, Ella had absconded from the kitchen with a box of Cheez-Its and was coming dangerously close to making a mess with them. "What did you say, Eric?" I asked him. "I tode you we got some twubbo in heer," he said, pointing at Ella. "No, what did you say before that? What did you call me?" "Um. Momma?" Mmm hmm. A likely story.
I'm not sure if any of you know or would believe this about me, but if I had unlimited time (ok, how about severely less-limited time?), I would be cleaning the cracks and crevices with a Q-tip like a mother-you-know-what. Just so you know. I have the patience for that type of attention to cleanliness, I really do. I just don't have the damn time, lest I forsake sleep or (!) internet time. So instead, I live in clutter and messiness because if I can't clean perfectly, why clean at all? And at the same time, I live in stress up to my earballs because all I do is look around and see mess mess mess and my brain goes into overload and I can't function. I try to clean and instead I wander from room to room leaving trails of barely-started projects in my wake. So, I'm taking a new approach to cleaning and decluttering: it doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be put the fuck away. Of course, I tell myself all the time that this is the weekend that I'm going to do some serious decluttering. But, with a mess like I have going on here, it's really no weekend project--especially when there are constantly children around who apparently need me to wipe their little butts all the freaking time. Maybe someday I'll have the Container Store existence of my dreams, but for now, I'm just going to settle for good enough. I'll try to keep you apprised of my progress along the way (assuming I make some). (Um, which I will.)
Friday, August 08, 2008
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Some days I have an overwhelming desire to escape from my current set of circumstances. To just stop, wipe the slate clean and start over. Instead I sometimes feel like I set up a trap for myself from which I have no hope of getting out. I know that I made the choices that led me to where I am now, but maybe in hindsight I didn't make such great choices. I made choices that left me with no breathing room and now I'm upset because I'm suffocating. I get that. I'm just so tired of it all. I'm tired of screaming at my kids every morning to stop being kids and just hurry up and get dressed already because we're late. I'm tired of paying more for daycare in a year than my husband pays to some of his full-time employees. I'm tired of being stressed about money. I'm tired of feeling like we expend so much effort but never get ahead. I really, really feel like I'm on the edge of snapping. The final straw is near, I just don't know how near. It's plan-formulating time, though. I'm pretty sure Chris feels the same way. We need to find some happiness because right now we're just going through the motions day in and day out.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Hey, mommy? Wememba da udder day, when I came into your room early in da morning and said (in a nice calm voice), "Mommy, da funder woke up me. I was just laying in my bed and da wumbwy funder made my eyes open up, so I came to sleep in your bed so I wouldn't be scayoed?" Yes, Eric I do remember that, except I remember it this way: at about 5 a.m., you ran screaming into my room, saying, "MOMMY! DA FUNDER SCARED ME! I HEARD LOTS OF FUNDER!" Then I asked you if you would like to lay in bed with me under one condition: THAT YOU SLEEP AND NOT TALK BECAUSE IT'S 5 AM AND 5 AM IS A SLEEPING TIME NOT A TALKING TIME. So, you agreed, climbed into bed and it went a little something like this: Toss, turn, adjust the pillow, adjust the blankets, "Mommy?", "No talking!", toss, turn, adjust the pillows, adjust the blankets, "Mommy?", "NO talking!!", and then repeat those steps a few more times for good measure until Daddy got out of the shower and turned on cartoons for you. Yes, I remember dat udder day, what of it?
Sunday, August 03, 2008
I love how dreams can be so random. Sometimes they're filled up with day residue and stuff that's somehow tangential to my life. Other times I'm an expert on subjects I never even knew I knew about. For instance, last week I had a dream in which I was discussing wedding related things and Stuart Weitzman. When I woke up, I googled that name, and low and behold he does design some wedding apparel. I was only vaguely aware that I may have had some prior knowledge of him. I don't know that I necessarily believe that "a dream is a wish your heart makes," but I do find dreams very interesting and would like to someday delve deeper into the psychology of them. In the meantime, does anybody know what it means when you dream of pasta?
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Yesterday I went to lunch with my mom. She asked me if I would mind going up to the counter and ordering the food for us. When I paid, the cashier handed me my change with the coins resting precariously on top of the dollars. Have I ever mentioned how much that drives me mad? Because, usually I'm still holding my wallet with one hand, so then I have to try to finagle the coins off the top of the money with one hand, which is awkward and usually results in coins falling to the floor and rolling to unreachable and/or nasty places. As I was explaining to my mom how this is one of my pet peeves, she said that I'm probably the type of person who also gets angry at other drivers, and then added in mock-earnestness that she's glad she can always maintain her calm, cool demeanor in even the most annoying of circumstances. At that moment, her pants burst into flames from all the lies, lies, lies. In many ways, my mom and I are exactly alike. One of those ways is our inability to tolerate incompetence.