I am so in love with today that's it's not even funny.
First, this weather is absolutely gorgeous. Perfect. The sun is shining, everything looks crisp and green and the temperature couldn't be better. I'm seriously thinking I'm going to run outside today. Not a huge fun of running around campus where all my colleagues and students can see me flopping around but I just don't think I can pass up some time outside. Not today.
Had a really good and productive meeting this morning. So nice when everyone communicates, comes together and moves toward progress. It really motivates and energies me and I just kinda feel pumped about some of these lingering projects.
And I'm not sure why but I've been getting compliments all day long. Seriously, it's the most random thing. From my morning drink stop, my meeting, just walking across campus...everywhere I've gone today someone has made a nice comment. I'm not sure what's going on but I kinda love it. I know it shouldn't make a difference - it's superficial to care what people think of your appearance - but it makes me feel great. Seriously, I'm bordering on giddy. And wondering what I've done differently today. Because I definitely need to do it again.
So I just had to share what a fantastic and wonderful day it's been. And I hope that you're day has been equally amazing! Yay for Terrific Tuesday!
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
Grossie Jossie
So I'm not sure what happened but I'm peeling. I promise you, I didn't have a sunburn. At least I didn't think I did - I never turned pink and it never hurt! I was just changing clothes and I caught a glimpse of my shoulder and there it was - flaking skin. My beautiful golden tan turning peeling away.
M rubbed most the pieces off, then it just looked like I had some weird skin disease.
I threw on a cover up and went downstairs and the first thing M2 said when she saw me was "Ewwww, gross!".
I agree.
But that's not the only thing gross about me. If you want to retain the illusion that I'm even a half-way appealing person, you should stop reading right now because the things I'm about to share might change that perception forever. Because I do a lot of things that are just kinda...gross.
1. Since I'm irresponsible and can't seem to manage to bring my gym bag each day, I pack it on Sunday and don't take it home until Friday. Which means I wear the same gym clothes 5 days in a row. There is some serious funk going on by day 3.
2. And because I try to get in as much gym time as I can during my lunch hour, there is not time for showering. I have some spray that I put on when I get back to my office. It doesn't really mask the smell, it just kinda mixes in. So I walk around the rest of the day smelling like sweet vanilla sweat.
3. I don't wash my face at night. I can't really explain this one. It really doesn't make sense because I brush my teeth and it wouldn't be that much more effort to splash some water on my face...I was momentarily better about this but I'm just not into it.
4. I like bloody steak. When I was 12, I went with a group of friends to a fancy steakhouse to celebrate one of their birthdays. It was a big deal because her parents sat at another table and we got to feel grown up and order on our own. I hadn't ever had restaurant steak before - when we had it at home, it got plunked down on my plate and I ate it; no one ever asked how I wanted it cooked. So when the waitress asked me, I had no clue what she was talking about. So when I asked her what she meant, she quickly rattled off a list of things and I repeated the first one that I heard - rare. But I didn't get what that meant. When she brought the steak it was swimming in red "sauce". It was the best steak I had ever had. It was amazing. I've been hooked ever since. Now I order medium-rare, mostly out of consideration for my husband, who finds it highly disturbing to see blood coming from my food.
5. I have an insane amount of body hair. It's seriously unreal. I have hair growing in places that hair should not grow. I'm a trimmed up version of Chewbacca. And it's not soft, fine hair either. I shave my legs each morning and by mid-afternoon I'm walking around with cactus legs. You know it's bad when you're in bed and you rub your leg against your husband and he yells "Ouch!. Because nothing quite sets the mood like exfoliating someone's body with your porcupine legs.
6. I don't poop that often. I don't have "issues", it's just my system. I've always been that way. To my horror, my husband has told people in amazement "Amber doesn't ever poop!", like it's some party trick I learned in college or something. And of course, after he says that I have to defend myself and assure everyone that I do, in fact, poop which opens up a gross and embarrassing conversation about my bowl functions.
7. I have conversations about poop.
8. I eat lemons. I don't know how gross that really is, but I don't see many people do it. I love lemon water and my newest thing is Diet Dr. Pepper with lemon. But I always take the lemon out after I'm finished and eat it. I would probably eat lemon by itself, like an apple or a peach, if it wasn't so bad for your teeth.
9. I wouldn't go so far as to say I like it, but I'm not offended by skunk smell. I don't know why, it's just not as repulsive to me as it should be. Everyone is all coughing and gagging and I'm all "Hey, let's go eat."
10. I'm a sloppy nail clipper. I don't even try to be clean about it; I let them fly all over the place. I do, however, vacuum them up. So that's only a little gross, right?
I'm sure there are about a dozen other really gross things I do but that's it for today. I gotta ease you into it - it helps with the repulsion...
M rubbed most the pieces off, then it just looked like I had some weird skin disease.
I threw on a cover up and went downstairs and the first thing M2 said when she saw me was "Ewwww, gross!".
I agree.
But that's not the only thing gross about me. If you want to retain the illusion that I'm even a half-way appealing person, you should stop reading right now because the things I'm about to share might change that perception forever. Because I do a lot of things that are just kinda...gross.
1. Since I'm irresponsible and can't seem to manage to bring my gym bag each day, I pack it on Sunday and don't take it home until Friday. Which means I wear the same gym clothes 5 days in a row. There is some serious funk going on by day 3.
 |
| The gym bag...it stinks too |
2. And because I try to get in as much gym time as I can during my lunch hour, there is not time for showering. I have some spray that I put on when I get back to my office. It doesn't really mask the smell, it just kinda mixes in. So I walk around the rest of the day smelling like sweet vanilla sweat.
 |
| My odor "mask". And I didn't buy this for myself, it was a gift. Because I'm just SO sensual. |
3. I don't wash my face at night. I can't really explain this one. It really doesn't make sense because I brush my teeth and it wouldn't be that much more effort to splash some water on my face...I was momentarily better about this but I'm just not into it.
4. I like bloody steak. When I was 12, I went with a group of friends to a fancy steakhouse to celebrate one of their birthdays. It was a big deal because her parents sat at another table and we got to feel grown up and order on our own. I hadn't ever had restaurant steak before - when we had it at home, it got plunked down on my plate and I ate it; no one ever asked how I wanted it cooked. So when the waitress asked me, I had no clue what she was talking about. So when I asked her what she meant, she quickly rattled off a list of things and I repeated the first one that I heard - rare. But I didn't get what that meant. When she brought the steak it was swimming in red "sauce". It was the best steak I had ever had. It was amazing. I've been hooked ever since. Now I order medium-rare, mostly out of consideration for my husband, who finds it highly disturbing to see blood coming from my food.
5. I have an insane amount of body hair. It's seriously unreal. I have hair growing in places that hair should not grow. I'm a trimmed up version of Chewbacca. And it's not soft, fine hair either. I shave my legs each morning and by mid-afternoon I'm walking around with cactus legs. You know it's bad when you're in bed and you rub your leg against your husband and he yells "Ouch!. Because nothing quite sets the mood like exfoliating someone's body with your porcupine legs.
 |
| Before Nair |
 |
| After Nair |
7. I have conversations about poop.
8. I eat lemons. I don't know how gross that really is, but I don't see many people do it. I love lemon water and my newest thing is Diet Dr. Pepper with lemon. But I always take the lemon out after I'm finished and eat it. I would probably eat lemon by itself, like an apple or a peach, if it wasn't so bad for your teeth.
9. I wouldn't go so far as to say I like it, but I'm not offended by skunk smell. I don't know why, it's just not as repulsive to me as it should be. Everyone is all coughing and gagging and I'm all "Hey, let's go eat."
10. I'm a sloppy nail clipper. I don't even try to be clean about it; I let them fly all over the place. I do, however, vacuum them up. So that's only a little gross, right?
I'm sure there are about a dozen other really gross things I do but that's it for today. I gotta ease you into it - it helps with the repulsion...
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Grease Monkey
So yesterday I got to do something I've never done before...
I changed the air filter in my car! This was exciting to me for two reasons: it desperately needed it and I've never done it before. It was super easy, by the way. I'm not trying to be all "woman power" over here but it makes me feel good when I do stuff on my own.
I never felt that marriage should exempt someone from taking care of themselves independently. I had a friend who desperately wanted to get married and she would always say "I just need help! I need someone to help me around the house." And she honestly meant it - she wanted to get married so she wouldn't have to do it all alone. I thought, and still do, that was one of the lamest things I had ever heard. You don't get married so you have someone to boss around and assign errands to! Hello? That's what children are for...
But seriously, wanting a spouse because you need a handyman? Crazy. She met someone online and when he would come visit her from out of state, she had these lists of things for him to do while she was at work - mow the yard, weed eat, fix things...one day she came home to some flowers and a goodbye note. She was most upset that he hadn't finished his list.
I've always considered myself a traditionalist, but I guess deep-down I'm really not because I think it's silly to assign "his and her" chores. I don't think my husband has washed a pair of underwear in...over 12 years. I am certain that he managed to keep his tighty whities clean before we met - trust me, dirty drawers would have been a deal breaker.
But somehow, the fact that I come with boobs automatically makes me more qualified for laundry duty. They really should put a warning label on these things- WARNING: boobs may increase aptitude for housework, impair ability to drive, decrease comprehension of math/science, reduce interest in and/or knowledge of sports, enlarge child rearing responsibilities and induce lame stereotypes.
And it's not even really about gender. I just think you do what needs to be done. It's that simple. When the trash is full, take it out. Why would I wait for someone else to do it? I've been taking my trash out since I lived on my own, I don't suddenly stop just because I have a husband. That makes no sense.
I just think it's important for people to live the way they want to live - married or not, you have a right to live the life you want. My husband is a major grinch and he's not into Christmas lights. I, on the other hand, love Christmas and everything about it - especially the lights. The first year we were married when he said he wasn't doing lights, I was upset. And confused. How can you not want to do lights? It's CHRISTMAS! But then it hit - why should I let his disinterest prevent me from having lights? If I was single and wanted lights I would put them up myself. So I did. And I still do. And if he helps, great - they look better - and if not, that's fine too. I've still got lights and I'm happy.
Don't get me wrong, I still fall into the typical traps. You did see the part above about the laundry, right? And I personally don't do any major home repairs. Not because I don't think it's my role, but because I have limited experience working with power tools and I value my limbs.
So I'm excited I learned how to change an air filter. Now I can add that to my list of Can Do...
 |
| Photo courtesy of M, who got a lesson about working on cars |
I changed the air filter in my car! This was exciting to me for two reasons: it desperately needed it and I've never done it before. It was super easy, by the way. I'm not trying to be all "woman power" over here but it makes me feel good when I do stuff on my own.
I never felt that marriage should exempt someone from taking care of themselves independently. I had a friend who desperately wanted to get married and she would always say "I just need help! I need someone to help me around the house." And she honestly meant it - she wanted to get married so she wouldn't have to do it all alone. I thought, and still do, that was one of the lamest things I had ever heard. You don't get married so you have someone to boss around and assign errands to! Hello? That's what children are for...
But seriously, wanting a spouse because you need a handyman? Crazy. She met someone online and when he would come visit her from out of state, she had these lists of things for him to do while she was at work - mow the yard, weed eat, fix things...one day she came home to some flowers and a goodbye note. She was most upset that he hadn't finished his list.
I've always considered myself a traditionalist, but I guess deep-down I'm really not because I think it's silly to assign "his and her" chores. I don't think my husband has washed a pair of underwear in...over 12 years. I am certain that he managed to keep his tighty whities clean before we met - trust me, dirty drawers would have been a deal breaker.
But somehow, the fact that I come with boobs automatically makes me more qualified for laundry duty. They really should put a warning label on these things- WARNING: boobs may increase aptitude for housework, impair ability to drive, decrease comprehension of math/science, reduce interest in and/or knowledge of sports, enlarge child rearing responsibilities and induce lame stereotypes.
And it's not even really about gender. I just think you do what needs to be done. It's that simple. When the trash is full, take it out. Why would I wait for someone else to do it? I've been taking my trash out since I lived on my own, I don't suddenly stop just because I have a husband. That makes no sense.
I just think it's important for people to live the way they want to live - married or not, you have a right to live the life you want. My husband is a major grinch and he's not into Christmas lights. I, on the other hand, love Christmas and everything about it - especially the lights. The first year we were married when he said he wasn't doing lights, I was upset. And confused. How can you not want to do lights? It's CHRISTMAS! But then it hit - why should I let his disinterest prevent me from having lights? If I was single and wanted lights I would put them up myself. So I did. And I still do. And if he helps, great - they look better - and if not, that's fine too. I've still got lights and I'm happy.
Don't get me wrong, I still fall into the typical traps. You did see the part above about the laundry, right? And I personally don't do any major home repairs. Not because I don't think it's my role, but because I have limited experience working with power tools and I value my limbs.
So I'm excited I learned how to change an air filter. Now I can add that to my list of Can Do...
Monday, July 7, 2014
A Diet I Can Do...Maybe
I’m starting a fast today.
But not that kind of fast. I don’t do the whole diet thing. I’ve tried two my entire life. One was a soup diet, really more of a cleanse, that required that I eat nothing except this rancid soup for two weeks…I think. I don’t know because I don’t think I lasted past day 4. Seriously, the same stinkin soup three times a day and nothing else. I never wanted to see that soup again.
The second diet I attempted was the Atkins. I brutally cut myself off from all the things I love – french fries, bread, chips…so painful. I was very, very successful with it though. I quickly shed about 15 pounds. In less than two months. Bam! I just woke up one morning and it was all gone. Pretty big result for such little effort. Then one afternoon we met up with some friends and decided to grab a quick lunch before heading to the lake. And we decide to go Mexican. I knew from the very beginning that it was a bad idea. I have the willpower of the teeniest, tiniest flea…so this was not going to go well. On the way there I was rationalizing how I could eat without the carbs and trying to figure out what I would order. But the minute I sat down at the table it was over – I went for the chips. Then, since I had already screwed up, I just decided to forget it and get whatever I wanted.
We made a quick run to the store for some lake stuff and all the sudden while I’m checking out, something happens. Whoosh –fuzziness comes over me, the room starts spinning, everything is slowing down – it’s like everything was a slow liquid. I’m light-headed and dizzy and am pretty sure I’m about to pass out. I can hear my girlfriend ask what’s wrong but instead of answering, I stumble out of the store, vomit into a nearby shrub and collapse in a heap on the curb.
Not my most glamorous hour.
In less than 10 minutes, I was perfectly fine - no problems whatsoever. I don’t know what it’s like to have hyperglycemia but there was definitely something wrong with my blood sugar. I think all those carbs just sent my body into shock. And that was the end of the low-carb diet.
So this is a financial fasting. Which is going to be almost as hard, if not harder, than a food diet. I’m not going to spend any money this week. Sounds like an easy thing but it’s probably harder than you would think. Every month I get spending money and at the end of every month I’ve spent it all. This is a point of contention for my husband, who hardly spends any of his spending money and considers himself severely broke if he hits below $150 in his spending account. In general my philosophy has been that it’s spending money so it doesn’t really matter if I, ya know... spend it.
But then the other day I was really thinking about it. I get a decent amount of spending money. Nothing extravagant but it’s enough that I should probably be embarrassed that I piss it away each month. I’ve gotten so used to just buying that I really think it’s made me frivolous and wasteful. But not in a big way – I’m not going on wild shopping sprees. And that’s part of the problem, I have very little to show for my spending. I am literally just nickel and diming myself broke. It’s all those little things that are adding up – daily sodas, eating out, snacks. I really just go get whatever I want, when I want.
I know that’s not financially smart. And it definitely won’t be like that when I stay at home. So I’m trying to be more aware of what I spend. And have a greater appreciation for it too. Because it wasn’t that long ago that I was trying to figure out how to get all the bills paid and the thought of "fun" money was foreign.
So wish me luck! It may be a little painful but it's not likely to result in public puking so already I feel like this is a fast I've won...
But not that kind of fast. I don’t do the whole diet thing. I’ve tried two my entire life. One was a soup diet, really more of a cleanse, that required that I eat nothing except this rancid soup for two weeks…I think. I don’t know because I don’t think I lasted past day 4. Seriously, the same stinkin soup three times a day and nothing else. I never wanted to see that soup again.
The second diet I attempted was the Atkins. I brutally cut myself off from all the things I love – french fries, bread, chips…so painful. I was very, very successful with it though. I quickly shed about 15 pounds. In less than two months. Bam! I just woke up one morning and it was all gone. Pretty big result for such little effort. Then one afternoon we met up with some friends and decided to grab a quick lunch before heading to the lake. And we decide to go Mexican. I knew from the very beginning that it was a bad idea. I have the willpower of the teeniest, tiniest flea…so this was not going to go well. On the way there I was rationalizing how I could eat without the carbs and trying to figure out what I would order. But the minute I sat down at the table it was over – I went for the chips. Then, since I had already screwed up, I just decided to forget it and get whatever I wanted.
We made a quick run to the store for some lake stuff and all the sudden while I’m checking out, something happens. Whoosh –fuzziness comes over me, the room starts spinning, everything is slowing down – it’s like everything was a slow liquid. I’m light-headed and dizzy and am pretty sure I’m about to pass out. I can hear my girlfriend ask what’s wrong but instead of answering, I stumble out of the store, vomit into a nearby shrub and collapse in a heap on the curb.
Not my most glamorous hour.
In less than 10 minutes, I was perfectly fine - no problems whatsoever. I don’t know what it’s like to have hyperglycemia but there was definitely something wrong with my blood sugar. I think all those carbs just sent my body into shock. And that was the end of the low-carb diet.
So this is a financial fasting. Which is going to be almost as hard, if not harder, than a food diet. I’m not going to spend any money this week. Sounds like an easy thing but it’s probably harder than you would think. Every month I get spending money and at the end of every month I’ve spent it all. This is a point of contention for my husband, who hardly spends any of his spending money and considers himself severely broke if he hits below $150 in his spending account. In general my philosophy has been that it’s spending money so it doesn’t really matter if I, ya know... spend it.
But then the other day I was really thinking about it. I get a decent amount of spending money. Nothing extravagant but it’s enough that I should probably be embarrassed that I piss it away each month. I’ve gotten so used to just buying that I really think it’s made me frivolous and wasteful. But not in a big way – I’m not going on wild shopping sprees. And that’s part of the problem, I have very little to show for my spending. I am literally just nickel and diming myself broke. It’s all those little things that are adding up – daily sodas, eating out, snacks. I really just go get whatever I want, when I want.
I know that’s not financially smart. And it definitely won’t be like that when I stay at home. So I’m trying to be more aware of what I spend. And have a greater appreciation for it too. Because it wasn’t that long ago that I was trying to figure out how to get all the bills paid and the thought of "fun" money was foreign.
So wish me luck! It may be a little painful but it's not likely to result in public puking so already I feel like this is a fast I've won...
Thursday, July 3, 2014
TBT: List Bliss
For all those in the blog world that were wondering - I haven't forgotten you. I promise. I am fully committed to being an unreliable, inconsistent and dull blogger. Hey, it's what I do.
Here's a picture to celebrate the fact that I have a three-day weekend:
This is my "Just Jack" face, inspired by the tv show Will & Grace. If you've never seen Will & Grace then I feel sorry for you. If you've seen Will & Grace and didn't like it then I'm not sure we can remain friends.
And since it's Thursday but we're pretending it's Friday, I'm going to TBT to my Friday list. Clever, huh?
So here's a short little list of observations made while taking this picture:
1. I'm a dork. Not a new observation but a resounding one.
2. I kinda like being a dork. It allows me the luxury of doing really silly (see photo above) things without a lot of judgement. I just whip out the Certified Dork membership card and get an understanding nod and a free pass.
3. I'm really hating my teeth. Awful, isn't it? I really hated them when I first got the braces off, then kinda got used to the overbite but I've determined I officially hate them for sure.
4. Of course you're going to say the overbite isn't that bad. You're my friend and required to lie in order to make me feel better. If you only see photos then you have to understand it's called selective posting.
5. I have major cleavage. I took about 5 pictures and my boobs were hanging out in every picture except the one I shared. Again, selective posting.
6. I kinda love the cleavage. They're on loan from the fat factory. The only positive of gaining weight. Can I lose weight and keep the boobs please, please, please? They're just what I always wanted. My own big boobs. I will name them Georgia and I will hug them and pet them and squeeze them...
That's all I got folks.
Enjoy the holiday weekend, I know I will. Gonna be laying out poolside, soaking up the sun with a cold adult beverge. Thank you America!
Here's a picture to celebrate the fact that I have a three-day weekend:
This is my "Just Jack" face, inspired by the tv show Will & Grace. If you've never seen Will & Grace then I feel sorry for you. If you've seen Will & Grace and didn't like it then I'm not sure we can remain friends.
And since it's Thursday but we're pretending it's Friday, I'm going to TBT to my Friday list. Clever, huh?
So here's a short little list of observations made while taking this picture:
1. I'm a dork. Not a new observation but a resounding one.
2. I kinda like being a dork. It allows me the luxury of doing really silly (see photo above) things without a lot of judgement. I just whip out the Certified Dork membership card and get an understanding nod and a free pass.
3. I'm really hating my teeth. Awful, isn't it? I really hated them when I first got the braces off, then kinda got used to the overbite but I've determined I officially hate them for sure.
4. Of course you're going to say the overbite isn't that bad. You're my friend and required to lie in order to make me feel better. If you only see photos then you have to understand it's called selective posting.
5. I have major cleavage. I took about 5 pictures and my boobs were hanging out in every picture except the one I shared. Again, selective posting.
6. I kinda love the cleavage. They're on loan from the fat factory. The only positive of gaining weight. Can I lose weight and keep the boobs please, please, please? They're just what I always wanted. My own big boobs. I will name them Georgia and I will hug them and pet them and squeeze them...
That's all I got folks.
Enjoy the holiday weekend, I know I will. Gonna be laying out poolside, soaking up the sun with a cold adult beverge. Thank you America!
Monday, June 30, 2014
Party Pooper
Last week I made it to the daycare a little early. We have such a long commute, by the time we get there our kids are usually the only ones left. On this day I made it right in the middle of pick-up rush. That was a different experience. Noise and chaos and the confirmation that I should never work at a daycare.
We happened to walk out at the same time as another mom. M2 yelled goodbye to her kids by name and because I have to talk to everyone, I made the off-handed comment "Oh, so that's the X I've heard so much about..." which prompted the mom to whip around and invite us to her birthday party.
In front of my kids.
If you're a parent, you know what that means - that the party becomes blazed into their brains and they won't forget about it. Ever.
She actually took it a step further and suggested they spend the night and she would take them to daycare on Monday. Now, just for context, let me point out that I've never spent any time with this woman, never had a conversation with her and didn't even know her name. Yeah, here are the two most valuable people in my life - sure I trust you with them...uh, what was your name again?
The minute the words were out of her mouth I regretted ever opening my mouth. Why, why was I so friendly? Why didn't I keep my head down, look angry and avoid eye contact like any reasonable mother would do?
The good thing, however, was that we were loading up kids. Yes, I strategically ushered my kids into the car as fast as I could. One, it was an effort to prevent them from hearing the word "party" - I was hoping if I could get them in fast enough I could convince them she said something else. And two, I was trying to pretend to be so occupied that I couldn't really engage in conversation. It kinda worked because she just trailed off and said she would leave her contact number at the daycare.
So I was hopeful. Maybe she had realized she was overzealous in her invitation and wasn't really going to leave her number. Maybe she simply felt obligated to invite us. Maybe she would forget.
I am a slightly horrible person. Normally, I dread kid's birthday parties just because the standard selfishness of not wanting to spend my weekend time around a bunch of screaming kids, cooing over a child I don't know, and pretending stale cake and cheap ice cream is good. But I'm not a completely horrible mom so we always try to go. We make a very serious effort because I understand the importance of showing up on that special day.
But this one in particular was tough... I know this sounds so super judgemental but these are the dirtiest, rattiest kids at the daycare and their parents don't give a much better impression.
I really, really did not want to go to this party.
So the week goes by and no contact information. Not that I was asking for it - if someone forgets to give it to me then I'm safe. So I didn't ask and I didn't get anything. I think I've dodged the bullet.
Then Friday, right as I'm stepping out the door, a teacher catches me and hands me a little slip of paper. Please be some homework. A newsletter. An incident report. Something, anything besides this woman's phone number.
I very slowly look down and...no. It's her number. And of course, now I've got to take the girls. Beyond the fact that they want to go, I can't disappoint some little girl just because I'm a judgemental snob.
So I got details and directions and we show up to everyone sitting in the front yard around a kiddie pool. Immediately it was evident that I was out of place as it appeared I was the only one that did not have a cigarette hanging out of my mouth or multiple children by different men.
I had been there about 2 whole minutes when the Dad, who was blowing up water balloons, pointed the hose at me and the cellphone in my hand. I shouldn't have been surprised though, he was clearly not used to following protocol or common courtesy as indicated by the huge "Rebel" tattoo scrawled down his forearm. Good news though, the mom was lucky enough to finally "snag" this guy - they're getting married "sometime soon". But hey, after four kids - why rush into things?
So guess who's going to be keeping her big, fat mouth shut from now on? Head down, unapproachable face on, eyes on the ground...
We happened to walk out at the same time as another mom. M2 yelled goodbye to her kids by name and because I have to talk to everyone, I made the off-handed comment "Oh, so that's the X I've heard so much about..." which prompted the mom to whip around and invite us to her birthday party.
In front of my kids.
If you're a parent, you know what that means - that the party becomes blazed into their brains and they won't forget about it. Ever.
She actually took it a step further and suggested they spend the night and she would take them to daycare on Monday. Now, just for context, let me point out that I've never spent any time with this woman, never had a conversation with her and didn't even know her name. Yeah, here are the two most valuable people in my life - sure I trust you with them...uh, what was your name again?
The minute the words were out of her mouth I regretted ever opening my mouth. Why, why was I so friendly? Why didn't I keep my head down, look angry and avoid eye contact like any reasonable mother would do?
The good thing, however, was that we were loading up kids. Yes, I strategically ushered my kids into the car as fast as I could. One, it was an effort to prevent them from hearing the word "party" - I was hoping if I could get them in fast enough I could convince them she said something else. And two, I was trying to pretend to be so occupied that I couldn't really engage in conversation. It kinda worked because she just trailed off and said she would leave her contact number at the daycare.
So I was hopeful. Maybe she had realized she was overzealous in her invitation and wasn't really going to leave her number. Maybe she simply felt obligated to invite us. Maybe she would forget.
I am a slightly horrible person. Normally, I dread kid's birthday parties just because the standard selfishness of not wanting to spend my weekend time around a bunch of screaming kids, cooing over a child I don't know, and pretending stale cake and cheap ice cream is good. But I'm not a completely horrible mom so we always try to go. We make a very serious effort because I understand the importance of showing up on that special day.
But this one in particular was tough... I know this sounds so super judgemental but these are the dirtiest, rattiest kids at the daycare and their parents don't give a much better impression.
I really, really did not want to go to this party.
So the week goes by and no contact information. Not that I was asking for it - if someone forgets to give it to me then I'm safe. So I didn't ask and I didn't get anything. I think I've dodged the bullet.
Then Friday, right as I'm stepping out the door, a teacher catches me and hands me a little slip of paper. Please be some homework. A newsletter. An incident report. Something, anything besides this woman's phone number.
I very slowly look down and...no. It's her number. And of course, now I've got to take the girls. Beyond the fact that they want to go, I can't disappoint some little girl just because I'm a judgemental snob.
So I got details and directions and we show up to everyone sitting in the front yard around a kiddie pool. Immediately it was evident that I was out of place as it appeared I was the only one that did not have a cigarette hanging out of my mouth or multiple children by different men.
I had been there about 2 whole minutes when the Dad, who was blowing up water balloons, pointed the hose at me and the cellphone in my hand. I shouldn't have been surprised though, he was clearly not used to following protocol or common courtesy as indicated by the huge "Rebel" tattoo scrawled down his forearm. Good news though, the mom was lucky enough to finally "snag" this guy - they're getting married "sometime soon". But hey, after four kids - why rush into things?
So guess who's going to be keeping her big, fat mouth shut from now on? Head down, unapproachable face on, eyes on the ground...
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Don't Look
So not sure if it was just natural curiosity or good old fashioned narcissism but...I watched my video.
Oh. My. God.
First, sorry that stinkin video is SO long! Who the hell posts an 18 minute video blog? I had nooooo clue! I was just running my mouth. That's something I do well - talking has never been a problem for me. But how could I talk for that long about nothing? Bor-ing! So if you sat through it, I owe you big time. And I heart you.
And oh my gosh, can I not sit still? I'm hoping that was just nerves. Surely I don't figet that much in real life. Right? Because if I do, I may need to see a doctor about getting on some Adderall or whatever wonder drug they're pushing for hyper activity.
I won't even get started on that voice. Or those facial expressions.
But I can't say I'll never video blog again...in fact, I'm thinking of creating an entire series of videos. That way I can be come an internet sensation when people discover the perfect party game. It's easy, just take a shot every time I say "um".
Oh. My. God.
First, sorry that stinkin video is SO long! Who the hell posts an 18 minute video blog? I had nooooo clue! I was just running my mouth. That's something I do well - talking has never been a problem for me. But how could I talk for that long about nothing? Bor-ing! So if you sat through it, I owe you big time. And I heart you.
And oh my gosh, can I not sit still? I'm hoping that was just nerves. Surely I don't figet that much in real life. Right? Because if I do, I may need to see a doctor about getting on some Adderall or whatever wonder drug they're pushing for hyper activity.
I won't even get started on that voice. Or those facial expressions.
But I can't say I'll never video blog again...in fact, I'm thinking of creating an entire series of videos. That way I can be come an internet sensation when people discover the perfect party game. It's easy, just take a shot every time I say "um".
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