Archive for March, 2008
March 31, 2008
about last night
10:30 pm
Stumble to bed; fall immediately into deep coma-like sleep.
11:00 pm
Child crying hysterically. Stumble to child’s bedroom to find husband soothing child. Stand next to child’s bed and ask, “Who is crying?!?” At husband’s suggestion, go downstairs to get Tylenol for child. Stumble around kitchen bumping into things and muttering about the CRYING and the SLEEP and OH MY GOD IT IS SO LATE. Come back with Tylenol to find child sound asleep and husband on way back to bed.
12:30 am
Thunder, lightning, and hail smashing into the roof. Get up, find glasses, and go down to foyer to see how bad it is. Hail is the size of golf balls. Hope the roof makes it. Go back to bed.
2:00 am
Tornado sirens. Husband is wandering in circles muttering about the hail and the television and the sirens. Ask, “Should we get the kids up?” Husband says he will look at the weather and starts to go down stairs in his underwear. Suggest that he might want to put some pants on since the neighbors will ALSO be up and it is possible that you may all have to leave the house. You know when the tornado comes and takes the roof off.
Tornado is close to the house, maybe, as much as anyone can guess in the dark. Sirens still going off. Wake the kids. Child husband fetches comes peacefully and sleepily; other child has a screaming tantrum and refuses to leave his bed. Think seriously about leaving him there; decide against it. Drag him down the stairs by his arms, hoping that you both don’t fall on the tile floor and die. Wonder if that would be so bad, really, at this point.
Pile into the bathroom with the children; husband has covered the floor in towels because there isn’t time to wipe every single surface with a Chlorox wipe (twice). Screaming child decides he needs to pee, with everyone in the bathroom, while continuing to complain loudly about being awakened in the middle of the night. Again consider that death might be the best option. For everyone.
2:30 am-ish
Sirens off; tornado gone. Put kids back to bed and lay down with agitated child who wraps his arms tightly around your neck, cutting off any possibility of breathing deeply or really at all. Will self NOT to fall asleep in child’s bed. Sneak out when child goes to sleep, leaving him with his glasses on. Because at this point who the hell cares.
5:01 am
Alarm goes off. Commence swearing. Spend the day telling people about the craziness of the previous night, only to have them say OH MY GOD THAT IS CRAZY. Continue to wish for death. Or coffee. Or, by two pm, a martini.
8:10 pm
Hit publish; go to bed; the end.
March 27, 2008
all’s right with the world
Here’s the thing about kids like Henry: they have moments where they are struggling just to exist in the world, and then they take a deep breath and they move on and are happy and peaceful and perfect again.
Of course, their mamas are still lying on the floor in a puddle of guilt and angst and sadness, but whatever.
Over the weekend, my friend Mir had a Very Long Day with her son; when we talked on Monday, she said that while Monkey had bounced right back, she had laid awake most of the night on Saturday, just recovering and thinking and being the mama.
When I asked how she was, I believe her exact words were, “I am very tired.”
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March 26, 2008
you don’t understand
I don’t even know where to start.
This morning we did our usual: get up, eat breakfast, get dressed. I made the beds and congratulated the kids on getting themselves ready with time to spare. Henry and I talked about what he was taking in the car and how he had his book right there by the door and was ready to go.
I was a little preoccupied with some work things, but the kids seemed to be moving through the morning just fine.
Or not.
When it was time to actually LEAVE the house, after Wade had driven away, everything fell apart. Henry decided that he needed to buy something from the school store but he couldn’t get his safe open to get his money out and he started to cry and yell because he was frustrated. Then he couldn’t find his book, the one that had been right next to the door ten minutes earlier, and so he cried MORE and yelled louder.
I was trying not to yell or threaten; I was trying to be rational and calm. I don’t think I was succeeding.
When Henry has a tantrum (do you still call it that when you’re talking about a kid who is nearly eight years old?) he is completely irrational. He will fixate on one small thing and scream and yell and fight, like toddlers do when you tell them that no, they cannot play with that steak knife. But because he is not a toddler, he rants and raves about how we are all going to DIE if he does not get his way and he is DOOMED and I am MEAN and do not CARE.
I’m not mean, but usually in these moments I am angry and frustrated. And very sad.
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March 25, 2008
I love EVERYONE (mostly)
All day long I thought it was Wednesday
This morning, after I got my hair recut (hello, PRINCESS!) I decided that I would go get a new driver’s license. We moved in June; I’m still using the one with our old address on it. When the very nice police officer came to investigate our larceny, I had to show him my license and admit that the address was wrong.
He did not look happy.
I also needed to change my voter registration because I have been voting in my old precinct, which is probably not legal, although I do feel like it is my duty to bring just a little bit of liberalism to my otherwise totally conservative former neighborhood.
Oh, wait, this is Oklahoma — I can do the same thing in my NEW neighborhood! Yay me.
So I zip over to the tag agency and pat myself on the back because for ONCE I will have Good Hair for my license photo; I fill out the forms and smile for the camera and designate myself an organ donor and provide my finger prints (what the hell is that for, anyway?) and then realize that all I have is a debit card.
Which I can’t use at the tag agency.
I tell the very nice tag agency manager that I just live around the corner and will run RIGHT HOME and get a check (all the while hoping I’m not pulled over on the way because OF COURSE she’s going to hold my license hostage, right?). And she says, “Oh honey, don’t do that — we’re here til six, just bring it by whenever.”
God bless Oklahoma.
She also complimented me for writing OK on the line where it asked for my state in the voter registration papers. “You would be surprised how many people write USA there,” she said. Which kind of lowered my opinion of my fellow Okies just a little
Okay a lot.
Unrelated, but since I’m here I might as well tell you …
Thank you for being so nice about my hair — I love each and every one of you. Sadly, I do NOT love my stylist, although he’s very nice. I DO however love the woman who did my color (highlights! yes!) and who recut both the bangs AND the totally lopsided back for me today. I’m mostly happy with it now, or at least happy enough to not be weeping. Which I have been known to do.
The sparkly bobby pins came from Nordstrom, I think, about ten years ago; they were Liz Claiborne (I don’t have ANY IDEA why I remember that) and I love them because they are super tight and actually STAY in my very fine hair. Good luck finding them again, though — anyone have a suggestion for a good alternative?
The blouse is from the Gap, maybe two (three?) years ago — and honest to god I think there are three hundred photos of me wearing it. In fact, you can see it here! And here! I really do think that shirt deserves its own Flickr set. I’ll get on that.
Also someone asked how much hair I had cut off — probably two inches. Seriously. I hadn’t had a real haircut since early December (when I was mulletized, thankyouverymuch) and I had been taking Biotin supplements, at Miguelina’s suggestion (OMG you all my NAILS look FABULOUS). My hair was growing at a pretty shocking rate. Unfortunately, it looked like crap and thus had to go. But the fast growing has made me less disappointed in this meh cut, because at this rate, it will be down to my elbows in four weeks anyway.
Sort of.
Speaking of fabulous …
I am currently TOTALLY in love with Stephanie from A Year of Crock Potting, for two reasons. First of all she is funny funny funny (she emailed me about antiperspirant and business cards the other day and my stomach hurt from the funny) and SECOND of all, she is cooking dinner every single day for a year in her CROCK POT.
And posting the recipes!
God I love that.
Today’s recipe: walnut and sage potatoes au gratin. IN THE CROCK POT. I have seriously been drooling on my monitor all afternoon. And if I weren’t going to Knit Night tonight to drink margaritas gossip eat food someone else prepared make a nice scarf for my niece, I might have made these potatoes.
Maybe tomorrow.
March 24, 2008
princess me
I got my hair cut on Friday. The days of growing it out are over, my friends. We will all miss them I am sure.
Someday I might actually think to put some lipgloss on before I take the picture. Maybe.
Tomorrow, I am going back to have the bangs cut again, because that spot where the bobby pins are, on the side there? Is TOTALLY too long. And it’s driving me berserk.
I am a princess. Get used to it.
