Thursday, March 29, 2012

Still Not Your Business

Hubs and I went to a party last weekend that was hosted by some friends who got married the week after I did. They have a lot more friends with children than we do, so there were ankle biters in the pool and all over the backyard. The kids were cute but, thankfully, not my responsibility. I watched their parents chase them around the pool and tirelessly ensure that the booger eaters were not drowning. It seemed like a lot of work.  Apparently, even when children are wearing those really uncomfortable floaties, you still have to make sure they're breathing. Weird.

I looked up from a conversation with the party host to see her husband joyously chasing some kids around the pool . Like us, they have been married just under 6 months, and neither of them have any kids. I asked her if it made her nervous that her husband was having so much fun running after munchkins. She said that she was trying to pretend that it isn't happening. "We would have had kids months ago if I let him." I laughed and raised my eyebrows.

Then, my genius husband looks at her and says, "Oh yeah, she's the same way."and points at me.

If the look I shot him was a rubber chicken shooting gun, he would have been chicken slapped a thousand times. I get that I have a weird and twisted way of dealing with things, but I am still not ready to have even my closest friends in my ovarian business. They know me as the brash, edgy, angry, intelligent friend who cannot be bothered by spit up and colic. I'm not ready to soften my edges yet. Sometimes I think he forgets the difference between inside conversations and outside conversations. 

I am naturally very maternal, but I'm also naturally very snarky. I tone down the snark at work, and I spend all day being maternal me. I'm snarky with my husband, but he knows I'm full of it. I go from zero to ball of mush the second that a puppy is near. And don't even get me started on the waterworks that accompany Publix commercials. For some reason though, this is an image that I keep private. It's not a feminism thing. I can be snarky and still feel like I should cook dinner (badly). It's just a me thing. It's an arms length thing. It's a who-in-the-world-told-you-that-you-could-come-near-my-thoughts thing.

It's a stay out of my mind and my ovaries thing. 

And hubs? Zip your yappy trap.

But, as always, it's hip to be square, kids. 

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Cat Tale

My parents have a mouse in their house. This is apparently a big deal. They're all freaking out about it. The exterminator came over and put down some "humane" traps and tried to get the little bugger. No luck. In the mean time, my dad named him Mickey Rat. They're basically pals except that one hides all the time and is frightened by the mere idea of a human. And the other is Mickey Rat.

I kid.

Anyway, in the process of attempting to get this unwanted guest out of the house, my dad got the brilliant idea to get a cat. He's always wanted one. We had cats throughout my childhood, but they were usually given away fairly quickly because while my mom LOVES kittens, she HATES cats. She can't even be near them. They scare her, and she is usually a whisker away from hissing when there is a cat nearby.

My reaction when my dad called me and told me that they got a cat was fairly similar to my every other reaction when my parents call me.

"You guys are effing nuts."

They named the cat Phred. His name was apparently Fluffy, but they didn't like that for a male cat. Apparently, they also don't like the letter "F" because they decided to recreate the spelling of a fairly simple name. They adopted him from a shelter, which was good. He is sweet and friendly and loves attention. My mom will even snuggle with him... for a minute or two. Then she walks away and washes her hands.

Anywho, Phred pretty much gets run of the house because his job is to be the Lara Croft of behind-the-fridge mouse habitats. The dogs are relegated to their crates while Phred meanders around the house and goes all nanny-nanny-boo-boo to them.

What my parents didn't think about is that the house had these "humane" traps hidden in corners, and cats can get in corners. Now, granted, the traps couldn't hurt a cat, but they could, say, stick to him like the worlds most terrifying and massive Post-It.

...And one did.

I was at their house wasting time when I heard the cat mewing like a preteen at a Bieber concert. I found him behind the dog food containers with his paw in... something. I had no idea what it was. Every time he moved, the thing came with him. He could not shake it. It was funny, but it was also scary. The poor puddy tat!

I managed to free the cat. Thankfully he is a trusting animal who let me maneuver his paw as necessary to get him out of the sticky prison. In the process though, the nearest curtain got attached to the big sticky mat, and we had a whole new situation. 

Damn it.

I attempted to release the curtain, but it was attached pretty tightly. My college education did not prepare me for this kind of real world sorcery. My dad came over and managed to make some progress, but eventually he walked away. I went back at it to only make it way worse than it was before. 

My mother came over and instantly had a meltdown about the destruction we were doing to her curtain. 

You're welcome for saving your cat's life. Jeesh.

Mom and I attempted to detach it together, but lacked the upper arm strength to really show this sticky mat who was boss. My brother came in and attempted to help. It took all three of us and a whole lot of patience (which we all lack) to finally free the curtain from it's elastic turmoil. 

Humane trap my butt.

For the record, this so-called humane trap was able to trap 1 cat, three humans, 2.5 college educations and a whole lot of pride in its grips, but nary a mouse was to be found.

Maybe mice are the superior species after all.

Also, as my brother pointed out, the Critter Catcher Caught the Cat. Say that 10 times fast.

On to the next adventure.

It's hip to be square, kids.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Four Words

Four words and we're instantly propelled into the future. They may not push us directly into adulthood, but they certainly shove us into a land of responsibility. All of a sudden, I'm trying to figure out how to pay off the credit cards as quickly as possible. I'm trying to make better decisions and spend less money. I'm cleaning more. I'm working harder. Nothing has happened, but it seems like the entire universe has shifted.

Four words from my husband:

"Let's just do it."

Oh shit.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

More Wisdom From Little E

Little E: What are these spikes on the turtle Transformer?

Me: Maybe they're gills.

Little E: Ugh. Robots don't have gills. Duh.

It's hip to be square, kids.

Friday, March 9, 2012

A Premonition or Wishful Thinking

Two mornings ago, I woke up in a panic. Not only could I not find my child, but I had spent the last several days of my life being a terrible mother. I had left him places, forgotten to change him, not heard him cry and entered into motherhood completely unprepared. I had no crib, no car seat and no diaper bag. I had nothing but a very large baby and an out-of-control heartbeat. 

I was awake for about 5 seconds before I realized that I don't have a child. 

Then the pangs began.

Every time that I have let my mind wander over the last two days, it has gone to this nameless dream baby. He was perfect. He was round. He was quiet. 

He was fictional.

The desire to procreate had been relatively under control. My every day life was taking so much out of me that the thought of adding anything else that requires attention to the mix was overwhelming. For a week or two, I was completely content. I was independent. Now, I miss my fictional child whom I've never actually held. Oh, and who doesn't exist.

I don't put a lot of stock in dreams. I almost never believe that they really mean anything. It's just the mind replaying the day in some way. This is different somehow. Maybe it was because it felt SO real even though I can't imagine I would ever leave my child unattended for twelve hours. Maybe it was because it was a reminder of the kind of limbo that my brain is in all of the time even if I pretend to ignore it. Maybe it's because there has been a new kind of stress in our lives recently that has put everything in perspective.

Maybe I have no idea why, and all that really matters is that it's bothering me for real. I need to talk to my husband about it so I can come up with some kind of plan to put this craziness to rest. I know the plan might never stick, and it will probably get changed 100 times, but I need something to remind me that we're getting to the future so I should enjoy the now. 

Really, all I want is to hold my beautiful, chubby dream baby and skip the rest of this crap. 

Sigh. It's hip to be square, kids. 

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Wisdom From Little E

Little E: "Butterflies make butter."

Little E's mom: "Oh, do they?"

Little E: "Yes, and blue butterflies make blue butter."

It's hip to be square, kids.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Today For Me

Today, I am doing something that I rarely do. I am making a conscious decision to walk away from my computer, my desk and my responsibilities. It's not that I have a larger amount of work today than I do normally. I always have a boat load of things to get done. I am usually the world's foremost champ at work-at-home, multi-tasking Fridays. Laundry gets done. Billing gets done. Dishes get done. Phone calls get taken. I'm so good at it that they actually pay me for it. Like, it's actually my job.


I want none of it. I am not super-productive today. I am under-productive. I am a bump on a flippin' log. 

Today is a day that I am glad that I do not have children. I need to be left alone. I need to be wandering at my own pace and not the pace of school busses and sippy cups. I have been yelled at by too many people this week. More than that, I was yelled at by people who will never understand how ridiculous what they were saying was. People who want to report you by abiding by ethics and not allowing them to set the rules. Sometimes, when people get angry at us, we know it's okay because we will talk them through it and they will see the reasoning. These people? No way. They don't get it, and they won't get it. So, we let them yell and tell whoever they want because, if other people though they were reasonable, they wouldn't be in this situation. 

We had a strange week at work. Everyone is usually incredibly happy with us. Not this week. We couldn't make anyone happy no matter how hard we tried. The ones that we had done everything that we could for?  They tried to take another mile and they were asked to leave. We almost never have to ask people to leave.

I'm worn down. I was too worn down to hang out with Little E at the end of yesterday, and I'm too worn down to finish my billing today. I want junk food and a break. I can't get away from my phone, but if I could, I would put it in the freezer like I saw in "Morning Glory". 

Instead, I'll look forward to a laid back couple date tonight with two wonderful sets of friends. Tomorrow? I get to see a very dear friend get married, and I am in charge of her most precious cargo-- her son. 

Sigh. Everything is right in the world again.

...Still not doing my work, though.

Even today, kids, it's hip to be square.

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