Monday, June 20, 2011
So, my friend Katie was super sweet and gave me a major shout out on her blog the other day.
"Shout Out". Do people even say that anymore? Oh well. I am clearly not the snazziest dancer at the disco. And also cause I just said 'disco'.
Anyway. We have been pals for a while, and considering most of you know her (and follow me because of her) you know what a doll she is. Well, Katie knows me pretty well. So when she decided to post about me on the interwebs pressuring me to post, she knew I would fold like a cheap card table. So here we go.
The last couple weeks have been kinda big in my house. Alex, the "baby" turned two on June 8th.
And Luke and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary on the 9th.
10 YEARS! (My lord, how old am I?? Don't answer. ).
And while I gazed down at my sweet, peanut-buttered angel, thinking "How could my baby be two?!", I realized I was the classic cliche of every parent. So, it got me thinking to some things that people don't tell you about being a parent. Such as:
**It really doesn't matter what you are doing with the baby, you will end up sticky.
Dressing the baby? Sticky.
Feeding the baby? Sticky.
Just finished a mammoth bath? That's right! Sticky!
**You will constantly look like a commercial in the making for dandruff shampoo.
This is mainly because when you hold the baby, he will wipe his nose on you. No biggie. After that messiness of the actual birth, who cares?? Except, when the baby is a year and a half old and still insists on using your shoulder as a handkerchief, leaving the checker at register 7 "reminding" you of the Randall's Sunday ad that, would you believe it??, has Selsun Blue half off! And when the baby has just eaten goldfish? Even better. And by 'better' I mean 'worse'.
**Your Pre-Baby List of "I'll Never ____" 's will disappear quicker than your former modesty.
Wait, "Former Modesty" you ask? Why are you no longer modest? Because once 15 different people have collectively seen your junk in a six hour time frame, and you aren't getting paid for it, walls have gone down. And if that's not enough, when another 20 people are tending to your lady-bits with mechanic-like precision, walls don't just come down; they are bulldozed. Like for a while. A very long while.
So, let me give you some examples of my Pre-Baby "I'' Never____" 's:
** "I'll never over exaggerate my husband's height by 6 inches when people repeatedly comment on how 'big' my son is when he is really just tall and people are jerks." (Yeah, I do that.)
** "I'll never examine another kiddo's diaper because the mom is worried he is sick." (Yup. On a play date today I totally did this with out hesitation or judgement. Cause we are moms, and we need to stick together and need support one another. And in her defense, she was right. His poop was oily.)
** "I'll never be as obsessed with poop like those other crazy mothers." (Yeah, you will be because babies and their poop is about as important as food and air.)
** "I'll never let my child watch TV before they are two because it makes them stupid or antisocial or whatever." (You are going to go insane. In fact, let me know when your kid is born so I can set up some Vegas style bets on when you finally crack. This could pay for college.)
** "I'll never feed my child crap like that mother. I mean, have you read the childhood obesity statistics?" (It would not shock me if, at any given time, Alex crapped an actual, whole, goldfish. He's two. That's all he eats. Cause he's two.)
I could go on and on with this list....maybe I will make it a weekly thing. But this is for you Katie (and Aja, and Aunt Angie).
Now go enjoy some goldfish!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Dear Lady Who Stopped Me In the Parking Garage At the Galleria,
Hi. It's me.
So, first I should say "thanks". You were flattering, really. I mean, when I am walking by someone in the parking garage and they attempt to ask me for something, my first instinct is to garble out some nonsense words that end in 'o' (you know, so don't sound like I am cold hearted, but just way fluent in spanish) and keep walking to my car clutching my Auntie Anne's pretzel a little tighter.
But you.....you....you seemed different. Yes, it is a big city, but who starts to beg in the garage under Neimen's at 11 am? And you seemed younger and I could actually see your feet and you weren't carrying any sort of baggage with you. All strong points. But when you stopped, and covered your phone, halting your conversation, I just figured you were lost. So as long as you didn't need to know how to make a shank out of food court cutlery, then I could do my part.
But here is where you went tragically wrong. Look, I know you are a career person, so I will get to the chase because I am sure you are busy "marketing".
1. Don't ever stop someone in the parking garage and ask "what they do for a living?". It's 11am. I am at the mall. On a Tuesday. I don't do anything.
2. Really not a good idea to follow up the "what do you do?" question by the reinforcing statement that "I look so professional". First, I admit I had just gotten my hairs did by spaghetti arms and was looking spiffy, but the flip-flops should have given it away. And elastic is still elastic, even if it comes from Saks.*
3. I believe I heard you clearly that you work in "marketing" for Mary Kay? And you want to give me your card? So we can have lunch sometime? Just to talk? Cause I look so professional? (If you don't even get this you have way bigger problems that that horrid eyeshadow. Yeah, I did.).
4. This isn't really something you did wrong per se, just something I think you should be aware of since it threw you for a loop at the time. Other people can lie to save ourselves hours and hours of mind-numbing seminars, just as easily as you can lie that you do 'marketing' for Mary Kay. And in case there are any doubts, I don't really sell Arbonne.
Yeah, so thanks for the "I looked cute and stuff". I'm sure the makers of Cheap Flip-Flops will be thrilled at their new professional gain in the foot ware community.
*In all honesty, I didn't look all "fresh-haired". Man, when old Spaghetti Arms finished giving me the fourth conditioning treatment I requested to help reverse the environmental damage, I got up from the chair and walked in to a wall. OK, 'walked' is generous. "Stumbled in to the wall having to grab on to some strange old lady to keep from falling over" is more like it. Judge away. I regret nothing.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
So, I have had it, people. I have had.it.
It is about this "Arctic Blast" thing. I mean, come on!
For like, two days, I have seen people absolutely obsess about it like it is the second coming and I have to admit.......just.don't.get.it!!! But it isn't just that I don't get it, but with every passing second, I am convinced that the people who are that obsessed with it are short every sandwich from the picnic basket...not just a couple.
Wanna know why??? Cause I live in Houston, people!!
Houston, as in Texas.
Houston, as in Hotter-Than-The-Surface-of-the-Sun-in-July, Houston.
Houston, as in , Thinking-About-It-This-Very-Second-Makes-My-Hair-Curl-in-Fear-of-the-Returning-Humidity-in-Five-Months, Houston.
So why does this make me so mad, you may be thinking? Well, since most of you are actually hanging out in an actual blizzard, this is why. Because for the last two days, I have been hearing the weatherman talk about how "we shouldn't get out unless it is totally necessary", or how the "morning commute is going to be pretty dangerous" because.....
Wait for it......
Wait for it......
Because we "might get 1-3 inches of snow"....yeah, please re-read this.
Yeah, since we **might** get more snow on the ground than there is dog hair accumulated on my floor at any given time, we should be heading to the grocery store and stocking up on Ensure and peanut butter.
And, because of the inclement weather approaching, schools went ahead and let out early today even though the weather guy, who looks freakishly like the kid from The Christmas Story (but isn't cause I already IMDB'ed him) said it wasn't coming in until midnight. So, yeah, letting kids out at 1pm makes total sense. Don't worry about them though, cause they have cancelled school for tomorrow....just in case. It is all about the kids, you know.
Then there are the "In the Street" interviews the news did of the parents picking up their kids early from schools. One concerned parent was talking about how they are playing it safe and going straight home because they "have never driven in such weather"......What does that even mean? "Never driven in such weather?? " What?? You have never driven in AIR?
What is worse, is that I think I am in the total minority. Examples. Today in my bible study, my discussion leader even thanked us for braving the weather to be there. Whaaaa? I'm not even in my heavy coat! And this was after Alex's Mother's Day Out teacher was stressed about making it through the class "because, well, you know, the weather is so awful".
Am I missing something!?!?!? It's called "seeing your breath in the air, people! Fake smoke or something and relax!" It isn't even the cold weather equivalent of checking on old people who live alone in fear they froze to their couch. It is in the 30's, here people!
So while the city is falling on it's knees, scrounging for food, propane, and probably a few of those all-weather shiny blankets that save your life if you are ever left in a car outside in the elements; there has not been one drop, mist, cloudy sky that even seems to have the idea of forming any form of precipitation. Somewhere, I feel Gary England is dying a little inside.
Monday, January 10, 2011
It was cold and grey when they pulled up to the airport. After a weekend of celebrating her brithday, laughter hung the in the air like a thick, opaque fog. He stopped the car by the sidewalk and quickly got out. When he opened the door for her, next for her son, he commented on how cold it was.
"Flat-cold" he said.
Everything was always "flat", even when it wasn't.
He pulled her suitcases from the trunk and placed them on the curb. He checked to make sure she had her boarding pass and money, everything she needed, that she was set to go.
She pulled the carrier from the back seat as he helped her put it gently on the stroller. He glanced up at her, his eyes willed her to say it was alright to take her son out, for him to give one last kiss.
Of course it was.
Then, amid frozen air, he held her son. He held him up and smiled, beamed as love and pride blanketed her son with everything he wasn't used to saying. A blanket she wishes her son could still wear, still feel.
He stood in line with her, in the cold, waited for her turn. They chatted about nothing while she got her ticket and got everything in order. She tucked her son back in to his seat and they were ready to go.
So they did.
She walked away after hugs were exchanged and words finalized the weekend. As she turned to wave at them again, she noticed he was still standing by the car. Just like when she would leave the house to return to college, or after she was married and came for a visit, he waited outside to watch her leave.
And so he did.
She didn't know, then, what exactly it would mean.
One year later, she does.
And she is thankful she remembers it.