You are currently browsing the monthly archive for April, 2008.
Fits over shoes: 3
Tantrums involving coats: 2
Ear-piercing screeches responding to God-knows what: 12
Rampages ending with vomit on the carpet (Of course on the carpet! No one can ever puke on the hardwood.): 1
Moms ready for a drink: 1
Sweetest of all my friends’ moms. I would show up early to sit at your kitchen table and talk about ghosts, spirituality and all kinds of things that were not discussed at my house.
My mouth was a ragged, bloody mess. You flashed an evil smile at me when I came to and told me to go wait by your fish tank. I spit my blood into it.
I was slapping pickles on a burger when you said, “She’s cute, let’s make her a carhop!” You had a particularly creepy way of staring at the girls as they walked down the lot.
Lispy, finger-talking, OCD editor. You wanted to be friends with all of us, but I found it really hard to party with you after you just went bananas on my ass.
Screw the calendar. It’s now spring.
Spring is:
- A pale foot, swishing back and forth in the warm breeze while its owner flips the pages of a magazine.
- Sunglasses. Wearing them for something besides the painful glare off fresh snow.
- People outside EVERYWHERE. Swerving around swarms of bikers as we cross town to waste some time outside.
- Kids playing kickball in the back yard.
- Beer on a patio. Better when it’s a friend’s patio.
- An impromptu barbecue — good friends, good food, good conversation.
All I have to say is: THANK GOD. We’ve earned it.
I think Simon summed it up best when he laid his worn-out little head on Ed’s shoulder before bed and said, “Fun Day.”
Indeed.
I have a shoe problem. Basically, I love them.
I usually have my eye on several pairs and wait patiently until it seems like it’s gone long enough since I last purchased some that the geek doesn’t complain about me buying more.
Let’s be clear — this is not a spiky-heeled, strappy, high-fashion shoe love affair.
Me, I can’t get enough of the clunky comfort versions they love to rip on on here.
Comfy! Cute! Probably mom-ish. Whatever. I AM a mom. I’m becoming more comfortable with that. (I guess it’s about time …)
Anyway, it makes traveling a huge challenge. I seriously have never packed a suitcase, even for a short trip, that contained any less than three pairs of shoes (you never know when you’ll need those black clogs).
This time around, I bought one pair of shoes for our trip, and I’m not packing any more. That’s right. One pair of shoes that will already be on my feet. It is giving me hives just writing about it.
But! They’re comfortable enough to walk many miles in, and cute enough to wear with a dress. So, in theory, I shouldn’t miss any of the other members of my shoe family.
But I might just kiss a few of them goodbye before we go.
Because even if you are, you’ll probably cry.
He lost his wife 27 hours after his daughter was born.
He tells his story in short, poetic bursts.
His daughter is beautiful.
Shortly after I wrote the previous post, I put Simon down for his nap. He insisted on taking to bed a regulation-size Packer helmet. I let him. Here’s the conversation Ed and I had when I got home from work last night:
Me: He’s been talking like crazy lately! I put him down for his nap and he spent at least 30 minutes talking to the helmet he took to bed.
Ed: Yeah, well, he ripped all the lining out of it.
Me: He did? He was talking to it so nicely!
Ed: Yep, talking to it sweetly while tearing its guts out. Just like a serial killer.
In the interest of letting the Internet know Simon does bring me joy sometimes, here’s my list:
1. He eats ANYTHING. Today for lunch, in addition to the mac n cheese and peas the other kids were eating, he chowed some of our asparagus and shitake risotto and was introduced to (and ate with a spoon) hummus. Most of the time, if you put it in front of him, he’ll eat it.
2. Kid knows how to sleep. He slept until 10 a.m. today, at which point I woke him up. He’s not afraid he’s gonna miss something by sleeping in. This is the kind of thinking I jibe with.
3. His voice. When he’s not using it to scream, the sweetest, high-pitched tone comes from his mouth. I love listening to him call out every object as we drive by: Car! Tree! Bus (that one comes with a delicious lisp)! Truck!
4. He’s fearless. Yes, that’s part of what exhausts me, but it’s fascinating watching a being who doesn’t throw caution to the wind — he just doesn’t have any. If you’re doing something, by god, he can do it too! And he’ll shove you out of the way to do it. He’ll dig in the dirt, jump off a step, balance on a ledge. If he falls, usually he shakes his head and keeps moving.
5. Hugs. He gives them. Often. Just now, he pushed my shoulder away from the keyboard and climbed on my lap to squeeze me. And he doles out an occasional kiss, too.
