Thursday, May 10, 2012

Hippies Only

I never put any thought into what I put on in the morning. When I start thinking about what I'm putting on, I get very irritated with myself. And it never works out. It's all pretty much the same, and frankly, I'm not happy that I have to get dressed at all. If I knew how to make my own clothes, I would do it. I've never really loved anything that I've bought and have always thought I could come up with my own clothing line for myself if I knew how to sew. I did take Home Economics in Middle School and made pillows and some article of clothing that I can't remember. I even stole my mom's sewing machine in hopes one day I would try to figure it out. Right after I finish (and start) the girls' scrapbooks for which I have a closet full of stationery.

While I was shopping at Woodmans today, a grandpa looking man stopped me. He grabbed my hand and said to me, "You know, I have some patches you can have for those pants." I looked down and saw that I do have several intentional holes in my jeans...actually more than I even remember. This made sense though since I don't usually look at myself after I've gotten dressed. One hole is quite big because when I put them on, my foot went through the hole, ripping the threads that kept the hole not a total hole. Then, he said, "You're a hippy, aren't you? Or free spirit...would you prefer 'free spirit'?" I laugh uncomfortably and tell him I'm really fine either way. I looked down at my jeans again and see the holes, and past the jeans are my recycled shoes. I started thinking as I walked through the store. Do I look like a hippy? I mean, I showered AND washed my hair. Then, I looked in my basket of groceries and hoped not to run into him again.  (Sorry I don't know how to flip it.)

I don't think I'm a hippy, and I take no offense to the label, but I'm wondering...At what age do you feel okay stopping strangers and calling them names? This man meant no harm. And I took no offense to it. It was somewhat entertaining, albeit uncomfortable. But, I can't WAIT until I can start telling people what I'm really thinking.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Parenting is hard. Before I had children, I wasn't completely convinced that having children would be in anyone's best interest. I was (possibly "am") selfish and a little spoiled so I felt that really, either way I would be fine. I could take it or leave it. When we decided to start having children, it took Scott and I two years to get pregnant with Emma. I had given up, and really had accepted that it wasn't going to happen ,and maybe that was for the best. Then, at work one day, my boss and colleagues made me quit procrastinating and avoiding that fact that I could quite possibly be pregnant. I drove to the store and took a pregnancy test in the stall of my work bathroom. It was positive immediately, and I was beyond believing that this could now be happening. What...the hell was I going to do with a baby.

Fast forward to now.

I don't know how, but (well, technically I do. I mean we all now HOW it happens, but figuratively speaking, I guess) 7 years later, not only do I have a 7 year old, but also a nearly 3 year old. And, so I've been told, they're just like me. Perfect.

Yesterday, I picked up Emma from school, as I normally do. I'm trying to figure out different ways to get her to talk to me and give me some information. Not because I need to know everything that happens at school in 2nd grade, but I'm trying to build a foundation for our future. I feel like everything I do now with her is setting us up for our future, of which I am about as frightened as I can possibly be. So, she tells me that she is student of the week this week. Well, that's great, but it's Wednesday, so are you student of the week for two days?

Emma: I have to make a poster about me and then my teacher will hang it up.

Me:  For two days? Are you sure you're student of the week this week?

Emma: Ugh! You're going to get me stressed out.

Me: Oh really? Well, Miss Daisy, I'm sorry I'm stressing you out. I won't ask you anymore questions.

Emma: Well, you always get me stressed out because you ask too many questions and I don't know the answers.

Me: Okay, fine.


So a learning block for me, I guess. I mean, I've been saying that my head hurts and I fear I might have a tumor because it hurts when I tip my head upside down. Maggie says it's because I have ADD, but she's not a doctor. Especially, not a head doctor. And why would ADD make my head hurt. Oh yeah, I think she related the ADD to my extremely poor memory. Still, it's on my list of things I need to do. Well, if I had a list, it would be on my list. It's on my mental list. Anyway, no wonder my head hurts. I am trying to stay two steps ahead of a 7 year old and a 3 year old who are little spawns of me. It's hard. Plus, there's always the possibility of a tumor.

Then, there's Olivia. Today, she brought my phone to me and told me it's not working. Well, that's AWESOME since it's brand new, and not super cheap. I checked, and it was blank. No response. Completely dead. Caput. So I threaten both of them and tell them they are never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever playing on my phone again. Emma is perplexed because she can't understand why I'm mad at her since she didn't do anything. Olivia is looking at me like she just killed the dog, apologizing and asking if I'm mad at her.
Yes, I was mad at her, but I just couldn't understand why it wasn't working.
I was THIS close to going to Verizon. I mean coats on and everything, and then I decided I could wait until Scott got home.
Plan B. I'll look on the computer and see if I can find any forums about the iPhone not turning on.
Push this button and this button until the apple icon comes up. Okay....well there's the apple icon. Let's see what happens next.
Oh, it turned the phone on.

Thanks be to the Greek gods that I did not go to Verizon.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

God versus the dinosaurs

It's a week before Christmas and I feel that I am quite a bit less frenzied than most. Christmas shopping is done (I think), the house is decorated, and our tree is crooked in true Leathers fashion. I've tried fixing it 15 times, and it seems to lean more and more each time. Scott has been working too much to care. Putting a dead tree in the living room and hanging ornaments on it has always seemed a little strange to me anyway so this just adds to my uncertainty. Christmas music has been on at all times, my favorite being, "Baby, It's Cold Outside" and I imagine being in the city and visiting my boyfriend...I need to leave and he wants me to stay and have more hot chocolate. Imagination never killed anyone.

Scott bought me an iPhone for Christmas. I know this because, suddenly, my Android quit working and when I called Verizon to troubleshoot, the lady confirmed that I am using the iPhone 4. I corrected her with some confusion at first, and then looked at Scott and realized he bought me the iPhone and the sales person must've activated it, accidentally. Whoopsie. So he ended up giving me the phone, in complete annoyance. I didn't activate it because, really, I wanted the iPhone 4S. So it has sat in the laundry room for 2 weeks. I've been convinced I'm not getting the 4S. Until today when Scott left to finish his Christmas shopping. I ran out at the last minute to ask him to pick up some pictures I had developed at Walgreens. When I opened his car door, I saw the Verizon bag sitting on the floor. I looked at him, trying to pretend I didn't see it and then, I couldn't help it anymore, I started laughing uncontrollably. He looked at me with disgust, not laughing. I muttered out the favor I needed and slammed the door shut, walking away, still laughing.

On a positive note, this Christmas I signed Emma and I up to be bell ringers for the Salvation Army. If you haven't done this, you should. It's extremely boring and you have to ring the bell for 2 long hours, but Emma enjoyed it, asked lots of questions about why we were doing it, what the money was for, etc. It was nice, not to mention, 2 hours I spent with her doing absolutely nothing except ringing a bell. After two hours I had a headache, but it went away with a few Advil. We've done other charitable things, but this is something new this year.

A few days ago Emma asked me if God lived before or after the dinosaurs. Now, my religious beliefs are mostly religious doubts, but I try not to inflict my feelings about church, the Bible, or any holiness subjects onto my children. Raising atheists at 2 and 7 years of age isn't exactly my plan in raising these two. Plus, I flip flop quite a bit, and I'm trying to be more open to the idea of God, and I've been pretty good with it lately. However, that Emma was working out in her mind how God could have created everything if dinosaurs lived before him was pretty ingenious to me. I was proud of her, but a little overwhelmed. I suggested she read a book. I don't know what book, but I can't try to sell her something that I don't completely believe myself. I started thinking as quickly as possible, so I mentioned to Emma that maybe we will go to church on Christmas Eve. It's a bit of a change of subject, but my hands were tied. I knew she wouldn't be overly excited, but what I didn't expect was this:

Me: Emma, maybe we should go to church on Christmas Eve.
Emma: What?! WHY would I want to spend my Christmas Eve at CHURCH??
Me: (mostly mortified, somewhat entertained) Em, do you know why we celebrate Christmas?
Emma: No. Me (shoot.) Lou, we celebrate Christmas because it's Jesus' birthday.
Emma: Well, then why do WE get presents??
Me: (thinking she is quickly becoming a Jehovah's Witness, and not having a great answer): Because that's what he would have wanted. (For the record, I do know about the 3 kings.)
Emma: Well, then what does Santa have to do with it?
Me: Ummm...Santa delivers the presents.

So, it looks like we are going to church on Christmas Eve.

This is a picture of Emma and Olivia in Chicago last night. Olivia refusing to look at the camera. She didn't even care that much about the trains.
And Olivia still not cooperating. I think Becky told her Dorothy was there so she turned around for a second, refusing to look at me.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Somebody call 9-1-1

Olivia called 9-1-1 today.

I laid down for about 30 minutes because I have a sinus infection and want to blow my face off. During my short time of vulnerability, she takes the phone and I can hear her pushing numbers. I ask for it, she pretends to give it to me, and just as I go to grab it, she jerks it back and laughs. We did this 4 times before I forfeited. And that's when she called 9-1-1, because when she finally decides to give me the phone, it's calling 9-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1. Awesome. I tell them there's no emergency (yet), and hang up.

Last night, Olivia wanted to sleep with Emma, which would have been fine if sleep was actually involved. After I tucked them into bed, I walked across the house to my room where Scott is watching a movie at a volume level that was equivalent to that of being in the actual movie theatre. Just as my head is about to hit the pillow, I hear yelling coming from Emma's room. Ugh. I knew this was a bad idea. I walked through the living room, and as I turned to walk down the hallway, I can see Olivia standing at the foot of Emma's bed, running and diving into the pillow, yelling, "Superrr Paaants!!!!" What. The. Hell. As soon as she sees me, she jumps into bed and I tell her to go to sleep. "Fine!"
I decided to listen and see what's next because I can tell that this little monster is not going to sleep. Emma is laying on the floor on a heap of blankets, per her request, and Olivia is laying on Emma's bed.
I hear, "Good night, Emma."
"Good night, Olivia."
"Good night, Emma."
"Good night, Olivia."
"Good night, Emma."
"Good night, Olivia."
"Good night, Emma."
"Good night, Olivia."
"Good night, Emma.""Good night, Olivia."
"Good night, Emma."
As soon as I walked back to my bedroom, I could hear music coming from across the house.

Olivia is playing the keyboard.

Upon me entering Emma's room, she quickly runs away, stepping on Emma, runs across the bed, and I tell her to go to sleep. She yanks her head to the side and pretends to snore. Loudly.

This should really piss me off, and sometimes it does, but usually it makes me like her more. And, actually, it makes me like Emma more, too, because she is so much better than her little sister.

Monday, May 16, 2011

The C-Word

I received a phone call today. It was a survey. Normally, if there isn't an actual person on the other side of the phone, I hang up. However, sometimes it's Emma's school and they have been conducting some important surveys recently. So I listened.

It started off something like this, "You have been selected as one of the top Conservatives in your area to take a survey."
Hmm...I'm pretty sure I've never been called THAT before. I continue to listen, and it's Dick something blabbing about how awful Obama is and how he's created a $1.5 trillion deficit, and blah blah blah. And the guy plugs his book a few times during the conversation. After about 2 minutes, a man comes on the phone and asks me, on a scale of 1-5, how I would rate Obama as President. I gave him a number and then that was the last question. What the hell happened to the rest of the survey?? Fucking fair weather players.
Before the guy tries to quickly dismiss me, I give him a few words to digest. Actually, if I could have reached through the phone and choked someone, I would have.

The one time I didn't let Olivia answer the phone.

Don't spread hate. Dick.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

The Lost and Unfound

I took my grandmother to the doctor a couple of days ago. After, she had to go to the pharmacy to pick up her prescription. Olivia and I waited in the car while she went in because she had to pick up a few items as well as her prescription. We were in the car for a LONG time. Finally, I called her on her cell phone to find out what was taking so long. She told me she was getting ready to pay for her things and would be out. And then I see her through the window, paying for her items. I looked down at my phone for a second, and when I looked up again, she was gone. Well, where in the hell is she now?! I'm parked right outside of the store. I don't know how I could have missed her. So I looked around and she is about 3 cars away, with her grocery cart resting against a white Tahoe and she is pulling the handle, trying to get in this other vehicle. I drive a white Honda CR-V that's about half the size of the car she thinks is mine.  There is a lady sitting in the driver's seat of the Tahoe. I'm annoyed. Why isn't the lady telling her she is lost and getting into the wrong vehicle?? She is just sitting there looking straight ahead. Now, my grandmother looks a little crazy and her hair was extra wild that day, and she does carry a cane, but her 80 year old body is nothing to fret about.  

So I get out of my car, tell my grandmother that she's getting into the wrong vehicle, and she laughs and walks off....away from me. She has no idea where I am, or probably even where she is.

This is fun. A complete blast.

Friday, April 22, 2011

I can't drive....on I-55...

...without thinking too much.

Driving long distance is challenging for my mental state.

Here are some of the things that went through my mind while driving home from St Louis today.I think they could be valuable thoughts for all.

I wonder if I should be angry with my grandmother for going to the Dr every week, who is billing Medicare and adding to our deficit. All because she can't get her blood just right. Too thick, too thin, too thick, too thin. Mad at myself for taking her every week.

Maybe I should start taking the girls to church. I can't pinpoint why, because its a bit hypocritical on my part, but it might be good for them.

I dont care if Donald Trump runs for President. He won't win, and then we will have to listen to his excuses as to why he lost for the next 5 years. And how lame is it that he's drudging up old rumors about Obama's birthplace. Let the the President be Black without these annoying accusations.

I wonder what is in this car that I haven't eaten yet.

I really need a facial and a detox. And a pedicure. I can't wait to try that new detox I've been reading about. It will be another blog, I'm sure. Who isn't interested in what I'm eating and not eating?

Where should we live next. I'm so sick of thinking about this.

This world would be such a better place if we were all nicer to each other. I am always nice to everyone I don't know.

I love NPR.

I wish someone would tell Scotty on AI that he holds the microphone like a fag.

I wonder what Clint has been up to.

I could never live in NYC because I could never afford to live where I would want to.

I wonder if I'm ever going to get my hearing back.

I bet a lot of Jews still celebrate Easter.

And I spent the rest of my time trying to touch my tongue to my nose because Katie said she heard it firms up the jowl. I believe it.

And then I thought about things I want and don't have and things I should be doing, but am not.

And then Emma yells from the backseat, "Mom, what will Olivia be when I have a baby? An aunt?" About a week ago, she was playing in her playroom and yelled to me, "Everything is made in China!" I think she gets on my nerves because she's just like me.