Wednesday Night is alright.

Oh happy day today... Wednesday night is my favorite night of TV. Top Chef - Miami and America's Next Top Model. And they say I'm not an intellect... eh-ha! To quote the recap on Television Without Pity in regard to ANTM, "Sometimes I think this show is just a dream I had." And this is what I have to look forward to tonight: "The girls move into the house. Heather has some problems with the social interactions, and Binaca says some fighting words to Lisa, who will likely lap-dance her to death." BP wonders why I'm so agreeable about him playing cards on Weds evening and this is why. I can't get all into it if he's sitting beside me on the couch rolling his eyes.

I just read that the Phil Spector trial is in its 11th day of jury deliberations. Okay. There's dumb. Then there's CALIFORNIA JURY DUMB. For crying out loud. I have only vaguely followed it and can say with all confidence that I'd be the trigger man if it was decided to just take the little weird guy behind the barn and shoot him. Or should I say, "Witness him unexpectedly killing himself" as his supposed victim did (in the home of someone she'd never met until that evening, with said man's gun, while wearing her purse on her shoulder, with someone witnesses testified constantly threatened to kill people standing by, while a driver looked on poised to call 9-1-1 to report, "My boss killed someone"). Oh, it's sickening. Come back with a guilty verdict already.

The letter not worth sending.

For 3 years now a friend of mine has been involved with a married man. As we head to the close of year 3, I find myself utterly exhausted from it whereas she is still as passionate, emotional, melodramatic and stupid as she was day 1. Here's what I want to say but won't.

Dear Manic-depressive, unstable mess:

Last night while you wept to me on the phone, I sat and ate tuna casserole and giggled and smiled at my 9-month old also eating tuna casserole and evidently loving it. I held the phone receiver away so (heaven forbid) you could not hear signs of my life in the background. (Yeah, I noted your comment about how when people sound joyful you want to vomit.) I used to give you my full attention, but come on! The presses don't stop for me when this shit happens anymore. Here's why: It always happens. I can't count the number of occasions you have interrupted with your self-absorbed and reckless whining. And if something's not happening, it just happened, is going to happen, might happen, etc. etc. etc. ad nauseam (with emphasis on the nauseam). It's as plain as the nose on your face: you're addicted to drama; you like being distraught; someone has misinformed you that "other woman" is synonymous with martyr; and - oh yeah - you're wasting your life and mine... so from now on I'm just going to sit and eat my casserole.

Why are you so lonely? Why is every conversation littered with Oh, I'm so lonely? If you haven't figured it out - giving up a man who might not have been "him" but who loved you, created children with you, and best of all didn't demean and debase you, splitting up week-to-week custody of your children (and constantly proclaiming you have nothing to live for despite said children), taking a low-pay-no-reward job so you could be in closer proximity to "him", alienating family and friends, hooking up with others on the side because of your loneliness but allowing them to humiliate you, too... these could all be factors in your loneliness. But also think about this: Grown ups do get lonely. Conversely, some adults long for loneliness (just one Sunday morning of loneliness, please!). The difference is we don't have the luxury of whining. Guess it's true what they say - adulthood ain't for sissies.

I can't make you love yourself. And God knows I'm done trying. So how about this? Can we agree you'll stop sending me links to You Tube videos of some overwrought country singer glorifying being the other woman *(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIyxkZod2cM) and writing in the subject line, "This is me in a nutshell." Can you stop asking me every time I answer the phone (1,2, 3 times a day), "Have you got a second?" (Because YOU DO NOT CARE IF I DON'T!) Can you stop injecting my life in the last 20 seconds of our conversations because I'm not stupid? (By the way, can we agree I'm not stupid? I may have one particularly stupid friend but that doesn't - in fact - make me stupid?) Can we stop philosophizing on how "his" wife could be so stupid to take him back? (<- Honestly it makes me feel more sorry for you than anything else does to hear you describing yourself in her without even realizing it! When is THAT light bulb going to go off?) Can you please quit pretending anything that happens is surprising? Why does it throw you so off guard to repeat the same cycle again and again? For Christ's sake - even cockroaches get when the lights go on they need to scurry!

And finally - when you choose to be with someone who abandoned you a decade earlier at your life's most vulnerable moment and he has a pregnant wife and two children, is an alcoholic, doesn't have a steady job, lives in a trailer, has Hepatitis, is in to you for 20k, and he seems hellbent on outdoing himself in that inhumane category, just admit you're going to take whatever he plans on handing you and spare the rest of us any hope you'll wake the hell up.

I could write this for the rest of the day and still not have scratched the surface. The problem is the meter for this is (well and definitely) up. I suppose it's of no real concern to you that our friendship is, too...

Ahhhh...

Okay, so... all that purging has left me little energy for more. I know I owe Blu & M an 8-fact blog cause I got tagged. I'll get to it! I'll get to it! It's just that right now I've had my fill of introspection.

Long time no write.

My blog has become my foul-weathered friend! I've had a great couple of weeks that seem only worthy of gratuitous mention (it's been a great couple of weeks - hooray!) and some mega-rage floating around in me that I gotta purge. But first...

Today at 5:30 we're "interviewing" a babysitter/mother's helper. I say interviewing but I think we basically want to make sure she's not wearing an ankle bracelet or that she doesn't give away anything subtle to set off red flags (such as expressing an undeniable hatred for babies, dogs, and/or "the man"). Let's put it this way - we're interviewing her Tuesday and we've already arranged for her to babysit Thursday. She'd have to want to screw this up. By the way, having never really paid a babysitter, when she told me $12/hour I really considered taking her job and giving her mine.

Baby i is getting her first tooth. We knew she'd be pretty wimpy about it so it's no surprise really. But her preferred distance from me lately is cheek-on-cheek. This makes things like going to the bathroom difficult and other things that I can do without but would like to do pretty impossible. Yesterday we spent the day me sitting indian-style holding her while she stood with her cheek against mine whining. The 20 minute morning nap and the 45 minute afternoon nap (while I ran to pick the dog up from the groomers) sure helped rejuvinate me though. I don't know how many teeth exactly we have to go but it's a daunting amount for sure.

F is going through this phase where he treats me like a second-class citizen. I could literally be standing one foot away from him (take this morning for example!) and he doesn't HEAR ME or respond. Everything I say is met with exasperation and impertinence. I didn't think I'd ever want to be on a power trip with my own children but boyfriend is about to get the BECAUSE I RULE OVER YOU & THIS HOUSEHOLD screaming diatribe where I pound my fists and spit all over him. We need to go to our separate corners for awhile. But then he does sweet things like hug his sister and try to calm her down when she falls over and bonks her head on the hardwood floor (oops) and he just seems so sweet... Is it possible we BOTH have split personalities?

I'm already over F's teacher and she hasn't done (much of) anything to us. Really... in your email to the parents welcoming everyone back after track-out do you have to mention that everyone was "talking quite a bit"??? Ick. Ick. It was all I could do not to "accidentally" reply to all saying, "Imagine that... a bunch of 8 year-olds talking a lot..." I'm not humoring her this year. She's got my child flapping yap and all and not only do I not care if he talks in her class I'm glad he's talking there for a flipping change and not here.

See. Told you I had rage.

10 years = a bad ass kitchen appliance.

I'm glad I'm married to someone who doesn't think it's weird I ordered my OWN anniversary present, sent him the email receipt with a note of thanks, and doesn't bat an eye that it's a kitchen appliance. Not only doesn't he think it's weird, I think he's really grateful (hence, sort of a present for the both of us... See how that works?). And I scored a bargain (although to him, I'm sure, it was outrageous). Anyway, say hello to...

We'll call it "The-only-thing-standing-between-me-and-the-Barefoot-Contessa." If she ends up working out for me, we'll call her 'Tessa for short. If not, that bitch is going right back to Amazon.

I'm trying to stop speaking in analogies/metaphors/I need to brush up on my English. Man it's really getting out of control. I can't have the most basic exchange without one popping up. Example: (See - I'm sort of doing it again)...

Someone: Hi.
Me: Oh, hi.
Someone: Did you see that bird?
Me: I did see that bird. The way it swooped by me I thought I was about to be flattened by a big truck.
Someone: ((blank stare))
Me: What? Didn't you think it was loud? Why are you looking at me with your eyes so vacant like an apartment left empty in the middle of the night?

But I'm not as bad as my friend G. I'm considering an intervention. She has this awful habit of saying, "You know what I mean?" and I mean she USES IT A LOT. (Yes, of course I'm going to give an example!!! Heck, I'll even use the scenario from above!)

G: Hi.
Me: Oh, hi.
G: That was a bird. Do you know what I mean?
Me: I know! I saw it. It came out of nowhere like the time that fraudulent credit card bill arrived in my mailbox.
G: That was totally weird when that happened to you. You know what I mean?
Me: Er... yes.

------------------------------------------------------

I'm currently auditioning to be the replacement friend of one of my neighbors down the street. Her best friend & neighbor is moving back to Idaho and she's considering me for the role of new friend. I've had two call-backs and it's really getting close, I think. Our first date resulted in us being in the same bar of a couple who walked the 10ft. to the outdoor patio to have monkey sex in front of all of us. The second was more subdued but we stayed out later and I think I really made her laugh. I hope she doesn't think I ramble too much and cite too many examples.

Out of the loop and then in...

We were so relieved that 3rd grade was going to pass us by without us knowing what - if anything - was going on. No notes home daily, no signs of anything to be worried about until... we went to Open House last night and were asked to schedule a Parent/Teacher conference because F has to be "redirected" a lot. (We were - of course - the only parents this was asked of...) It's grown really tiresome. But, it is what it is... We get to sit through another meeting with another teacher where we're told he's "bouncy, energetic, talkative, inattentive, doesn't understand consequences, can't sit still, bothers his classmates, talks out, acts without thinking, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. But he's really smart." I don't know how many more creative ways I can come up with to say, "Yeah. WE KNOW." Sigh... And frankly, I don't know how many more creative ways I can come up with to say to F, "GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER."

So last night was spent dragging out the arsenal of checklist, rules, lectures, pleas for him to confide in us (Is there anything we can do to help you? Is there something you need? Tell us how we can help you!), and guilt (How do you think this makes US feel?). ADHD just isn't for sissies. I'd have never believed until I had a child with it how insipid and tireless it really is. I'd have been the parent going, "Why can't they control their child?!" What about if the child is really well-meaning but persistently disabled?! And what about the weird guilt from making him accountable when you're not sure he should be... why isn't he trying? Is he trying? Why are things getting worse as he gets older not better?

There really aren't words. It makes me want to hang my head and cry.

All the things left to do...

I was carrying in the giant dictionary book/contraption I was conned into buying in a mall parking lot yesterday. It's a picture dictionary (for kids, obviously) and out of nowhere it hit me, We still have to go through the whole learn-letters-learn-to-read-this-is-an-apple thing with baby i. When you have children so far apart in age (8 years!) you apparently not only forget what you've been through but what you yet to go through. I'm not saying I'm not up for it (and what choice do I have, really?) it's just that it's daunting.

A friend of mine brilliantly described one of her issues as hair Dismorphia. I'm afraid I have the opposite problem. I think my hair looks okay and then I see a picture and I think, Oh Christ... this is what I look like? So I proceed to get it cut into layers (I think this was a mistake of proportions to teach other mistakes a lesson), continue to go to someone who obviously drinks before she gets to work for color, and in general look like I have a mushroom on my head. It's twisted when you hope for a disorder that ultimately means things are better than you think!

On that subject... so I never told BP about my blog because a) he'd make fun of me b) I didn't want him to make fun of me and c) he'd relentlessly bring in bits of it into every conversation ("That's not what you said on your blog!" or "Oh, are you gonna go write about this in your blog?" or "Go ask your friends in your comments section of your blog to feel sorry for you..." etc). I'm not saying he's mean. He just goes out of his way to get his OWN laughs. So, he finds out I have a blog (Thanks, Kevin... :)) and I told him why I never told him about it ("I didn't want you to make fun of me.") and he agrees! I said, "I'll give you the URL but you won't even really read it anyway!" He agrees again. Conversation closed. So - ... the hell? He knows his wife has what amounts to a public diary and he passes on the chance to read it? I know he hates to read and all... but really?

Next week I have to go in for the new two days a month in the office I agreed upon. You'd think I'd be dreading it. Nope. I can't wait to have nowhere to go but a desk for eight hours. Nothing to do but sit. I'll work some, too, but mostly I'll be sitting facing forward quietly minding my own business and loving every single second of it.

Practicing Embedding Slideshows.

It's worth repeating...

F: (at the airport on bringing his sister along for the week-long trip away from home) "I'm glad i is coming for two reasons. One - she puts a smile on my face and two - we get to ride the elevator."

B: "In which order? Really?"

F: "Elevator first."
__________________________

F (randomly the night before his trip): "Wouldn't it be cool if i starts crawling while we're gone and right at the same time my fish dies?"

Circle of life, friends.
__________________________

BP & the kids hadn't been gone two hours yesterday and I dusted the shelves in the living room and cleaned out the coat closet. Sort of makes me long for the days when I'd watch out the window as my parents backed out of the driveway with a cigarette and lighter in one hand and with the other hand I was poised to dial any & all other delinquents to fire the proverbial starting pistol.

So... a coworker of BP's who sent us a phenomenal baby gift just had her own baby. BP asked me to handle sending her something and reminded me she's the one who sent us the phenomenal baby gift. So. I sent him an email w/ a picture of what I'd sent... He responds, "Very cute, thanks."

(pause)

Very cute? Okay. I don't expect him to get it. But - very cute? I spent 45 minutes looking for "THE" gift - spent more on some dumb baby than I've spent on myself here lately and even paid extra for a glossy Nordie's wrap and bow and VERY CUTE? His friends and colleagues are about to go the way of his dejected parents whom I no longer shop for because:

• a) they're always telling me I'm way too generous and when they say it it isn't in a "but thank God for you" way but a "and you'll be the ruin of my son" way.
• b) I got a lot of thank yous from BP for handling b-days, mom/dad's day, etc... which closely resembled the "very cute" shit I just got. and
• c) quite simply they don't enjoy giving or receiving and I'm all about both.

Very (motherfucking) cute INDEED.

Special shout-out this entry to my friend Kim who turned me on to the Paul Potts video from Britain's Got Talent. I don't have a clue what he's singing but when I see his dear face w/ the chipped crown break into something that's a mix between soulful (from the soul - not James Brown soul) and something a tad run-away I just want to weep. And who is that female judge and why aren't we best friends so she can tell me I'm "a little lump of coal set to turn to diamond" when I'm down... Aw, thanks Kim... love it.

And in brief.

The BBQ went well w/ exception of the fact that my crazy-ass neighbor who only got an invite so she wouldn't call the police was one of the first to arrive and the *LAST* to leave. Aside from grinding every conversation to a screeching halt, she also showed her hysterectomy scar to my poor friend Cassie.

Said neighbor refuses to walk her dog. Then she refuses to clean the dog shit off of her driveway. She is a pig.

First week of summer and BP is gone three of those days. I'm swimming upstream this week. I am physically exhausted & my brain is mush. Both kids were asleep by 6:30 last night. So, at least they don't just wear ME out. Thing is, it's not a break, really, when this happens b/c baby i makes me go up and down the stairs no less than 15 times to plug her and last night was one of those "can't get comfortable" nights when she tossed and turned and cried for no reason. I thought I'd never do it, but I finally let girlfriend cry herself to sleep. I'd done all I could do. She seemed quiet this morning and all I can think is that she doesn't trust me anymore and feels all alone in a despondent world. I know... I know... if it doesn't feel right, don't do it. But seriously. Something had to give.

I liken the finale of the Sopranos to something like a friendship that ends. I had a friend D. I was maid/matron of honor in both of her weddings... really good friends... I never thought it would end and we joked we'd be on one of our front porches with our stoages talking about lifetime movies we'd watched & our grandchildren. Well, last time I talked to her she was on her cellphone and and the last thing she said was, "I might lose you. I'm headed into a tunnel." And the phone went dead. That was almost two years ago. I don't know how the threads of her life have wound, where she is, if her mother is still alive, how her divorce turned out, whether or not she stopped doing coke, etc... I invested so much but I just don't have the luxury of her or knowing her next chapters. It's weird. But, it's life.

You know you're a dopey parent when...

Your baby wakes you up at 3:30 a.m. and when you can't go back to sleep you use that time to go through pictures and videos of your children. I just sat & watched roughly 45 minutes of video of the tykes even the snoozer class play (sorry 'tis true) I could barely stay awake for when I was there live.

Here's a pic of me and the babies from yesterday! Okay, I just love them.

Our big neighborhood BBQ is today. It sounded SO good in theory two months ago. Now that it's upon me, I don't know WHAT I was thinking inviting 60-some-odd people to our house. I can't even have family for dinner without freaking out and going overboard. To add to it... it's gonna be a long day since the starting shot was fired at 3:30 this morning as I mentioned. There's no turning back now, I suppose. I have to add a funny... Yesterday one of my neighbors called and left a message, "I wanted to know if there's something I could bring tonight. Let me know and otherwise, we'll see you tonight." Now this is our Mormon friend (relative only b/c of what I'm about to tell you) who has FIVE children. So had she not called to ask what to bring and I didn't have the opportunity to tell her that it was in fact not last night, we would have had seven of the Smiths on our doorstep last night! Not a bad thing, per se, but as I told you I can't even handle having family over without ta-doo. (<- Is that how you spell it?) I had to check and re-check our invitation we sent out because I had a moment of, "Holy crud. What if it IS tonight!?"

Anyways... this brings me to another funny... Apparently said neighbor with five children once told BP he looked exactly like someone. ("Brad Pitt?" he asked.) No, someone in Rascal Flatts. BP gave away that after she told him that he went and looked up pictures of the band (Band?? I thought Rascal Flatts was a person!) Of course then I had to look it up, too. Yeah, sort of. Is it because he's a country singer that looks Jewish? Upon further investigation (read: typing in "Rascal Flatts Jewish" in Google) it appears he may be! At least she didn't compare him physically with Matisyahu (Check out his version of "Message in a Bottle" by the way).

My mind is really wandering this morning because somehow I've made the connection from the Rascal Flatts (geez, is it RascaLL Flats? Rascal Flats? Rasscal Flat? I'm tired of looking them back up!) to another funny when my friend Al pulled up to a drive-thru of a drugstore and asked for, "Diet Coke and a pack of Marlboro Ultra Lights, please" to which the pharmacist said, "Um... ma'am... you need to come inside for that. This is the pharmacy drive-thru." Shout-out to my friend, Al. Maybe YOU will understand how I made this connection. (And P.S. - When are you gonna update your BLOG!?)

Oh Gosh - one more Al funny. Al & I used to call everyone "clown" when they'd do something, oh, clownish. Once we were driving and someone ripped out in front of us. We both shouted above squealing brakes, "YOU STUPID CLOWN!!!" We get right to the driver's side of the offending car and 'lo and behold... it was a CLOWN driving... or a person in a clown costume!

Cheers to silly Al and thanks for sending me this for the BBQ today:

♪ BBQ, bless my spirits, I swear it never fails, and the sauce mama makes just stays there forever if you ever get it under your nails.
So get the frown off your face we’re gonna replace it with a mess and a dream come true
Get a pretty girl dancing to jug band music and a mess of Mama’s BBQ.♫
-From Emmett Otter’s Jug Band Christmas

You rock Roanoke & The New River Valley! You're such a major player in those warm, funny memories from wayyyy back when.

In closing... I'll have you know the Atlanta PD *STILL* haven't contacted us regarding our "case." When you hear I've headed to Atlanta just know I've finally decided a life of crime is in front of me. Look, I know we have more pressing things for our law enforcement to worry over, but a simple call to even tell us THAT is in order if you ask me.

She doesn't sleep for shit, but she sure is ca-YUTE...

I may have figured out a new career...

Identity thief.

I'm learning that basically there are no consequences to taking a person's identity and stealing them blind.

When the contractors - UNFINISHED SPACES - robbed us I said this and it applies now, if a man ran by me and ripped my purse off my shoulder with 20k in it, there'd be a man-hunt. Because it's done by phone, mail, and Internet no one gives a crap! There can't be many street criminals anymore (been pick-pocketed lately?)... why bother? I know this... why don't the police!? Where are the task forces devoted to the most rapidly growing insidious crime there is? (The FBI will help you - you just have to make it to the 100k club first!)

If anyone is encouraging me to a life of crime, it's Wachovia (who sent two cards from two separate accounts we have with them in one month to two separate addresses without noticing FRAUD) and the Atlanta Police who aren't remotely hiding the fact that they just want us to go away. My guess is they'll spend more time trying to prove it isn't their jurisdiction than they will to finding the person who used our credit card to take out 20k from Atlanta ATMs. Oh, scratch that... that's crazy talk... they're too lazy to do anything on our behalf.

So someone has our social security numbers, mothers' maiden names, high school mascot (seriously - they used this to get a password!), and who knows what else. I can't wait to see where we'll show up next... Atlanta... Seattle... maybe we'll make it abroad this summer. Gulp.

In the dark

The power was out in our neighborhood for a couple of hours yesterday. I caught up on some reading and found myself (finally) invested in my book (The Falls by Joyce Carol Oates) and a little caught up on sleep for a change. After straining to read by candlelight (how did our forefathers and mothers do it!?), I decided to just go to sleep. F was having trouble falling asleep and wouldn't a) go to his room b/c he was freaked out and b) STOP TALKING. So, he came to bed with me under the condition that he wouldn't say another word. In between deep sighs and LOUD gnaws on his rice cake, he finally did fall asleep. I'll spare you the pontifications on how we take electricity for granted b/c instead what I wonder now is why I don't turn everything off sooner and go the heck to bed if it makes me feel so well-rested.

Five top five

Five book recommendations

1. I am one of you forever - Fred Chappell
2. One Night - Alice McDermott
3. Letting Go* - Philip Roth
4. Endless Love - Scott Spencer (yeah... I know you're conjuring Lionel Richie. But, seriously. This book is a read and read again kind of book.)
5. Ivy Louise Eat Your Peas! (Just read it.)

Five movie recommendations

1. Dangerous Liaisons (of course)
2. The Color Purple
3. Donnie Brasco**
4. Casino**
5. Goodfellas**

Five things on my mind

1. In the name of all that is holy, how will I get through this day without collapse?
2. Did I really invite 60 people to a BBQ at my house? What the?
3. The zit on my chin looks to be pregnant.
4. I'm tired (see #1).
5. Really? School is out in 15 days?

Five things I dislike about people

1. When they talk. And talk. And talk. And talk.
2. When they don't put their money where their mouth is... How many of the parents who sued the school board over mandatory year-round and got what they wanted are now NOT attending the traditional schools made available to them!? I could seriously cut them.
3. When everything is about them. HellOOOO?
4. Crooked people... or those not straight-forward.
5. People who are not just reliving their youth, but the worst parts of it. Gag.

Five things I'm happy about

1. The end of my "career."
2. How cute F looked today and his shiny clean hair.
3. Fruity Pebbles for breakfast and lunch out this afternoon!
4. Nordstrom's... in less than 2 hours.
5. My ingrown toe nail surgery is finally healing.

* If you haven't already read it, well then... Shame on YOU.
**WHY OH WHY OH WHY OH WHY is the Sopranos ending?

I don't know why...

I can't ever seem to do anything with this camera that isn't a) blurry b) left-of-center (which was kind of cute for awhile, but is now annoying) or c) too bright or too dull. In any case - here's my babbling baby --- this is her new thing... babble, babble, babble. It goes without saying then that there is now not a moment of silence to be had in our house!
Photo Sharing - Upload Video - Video Sharing - Share Photos

Miscellaneous.

• I have to give my notice this week so I can give them a respectable month's time to realize they don't even need to replace me (ha - sigh). I don't know why I'm hesitating. Well, I sort of do know why... but I need to get over it. Commit. Along those lines, I found out I'm a week of vacation in the hole so I will be effectively working for nothing the last month of work. I considered working an additional month to make up for that, but really - when would it end?
• A certain "someone" slept last night from 7:30 - midnight. Then midnight until 7:45. She didn't even have on her lucky pajamas. I won't name the "someone" or even celebrate it too much. I have been bitten BIG TIME in the past for this. So, no comments or editorial except to say I hope "she" feels well-rested today.
• I have ingrown toenails on my big toes so bad that I'm actually going to go to a podiatrist after weeks of putting "Call the podiatrist" on my to-do list and then not doing it. When I set something into actual action, you know I'm serious. I'm walking around absolutely petrified that someone is going to accidentally step on my toe, wincing when I put on just flip flops (navigating the toe strap is an art), and even feeling pain when I get into bed and put my feet in the sheets. We have a friend who is a podiatrist and I couldn't decide if I'd go to him or if it would be better to go to a stranger. I opted for his practice - different doctor. I think if I can get rid of this whole headache I'll feel like a new woman.
• My mom-in-law has a new saying, "She thinks she poops Chanel!" and it just ___ well, it just does something to me and I can't discern if it causes pleasure or pain. I try to GET her to say it now in the same way BP tries to drag Julia Louis Dreyfus into conversations with my Mom because he knows it fires her up.
• My roots are so disgustingly bad and I have a weird orange tint permeating through my hair. When I reflect on my life I know I'll say the thing that gave me the most hassle throughout was my g.d. hair. Superficial? Nah. I'm just being honest.
• I love people with ADHD - specific people. Counselors we go to in an effort to treat a child with ADHD who have ADHD themselves might seem like a good resource (you know, been there/done that), but... Argh. By the time our (late) counselor arrived, finished cleaning her office's bathroom, pinned her hair back and explained how much she hated long hair, how long she had to grow it for locks of love, discussed F's crocs and the sale they're having on them at some sporting good place, messed around with her printer, obviously cleared out the phlegm from yesterday's ciggies, and sat down with a pile of haphazard paperwork she never could seem to find an end to, I was beside myself. I wanted to help HER out and give her the, "Just one thing at a time... Okay, now focus..." speech I give F just about every other minute.
• Where are the women in my neighborhood (excepting my sister) who would bring their baby monitor over in the evening, sit on the porch with me, drink some wine and talk about *anything* but babies/children/PTA/conspiratorial neighbor theories/their yard? I need someone I can call to say, "I'll swap with you today. You go get your pedicure; I'll take the kids. When you get back I'm going to buy a skirt that I absolutely can not afford." I keep trying to find even that one woman I can relate to and before I know it I'm standing on the sidewalk listening to a rant about the school's Principal or positively offensive diatribes about how their baby "won't even wake up to eat." GAG.
• F saw me flipping BP the bird over the weekend. My one discretion (really! I've been very sneaky) and he won't let me live it down. I told him to turn the page and he pretended to be turning a page, and said, "Mommy putting her middle finger up at Daddy... Flip... Mommy putting her middle finger up at Daddy... Hey! It's on this page, too!" What a dopey boy I have. I also heard him whispering to his Nanna that I'd flipped off BP as though he were scarred... he's hilarious.
• These message boards for December babies are going to cause me to have an aneurism. I've read so much crap my eyes hurt! EXHIBIT A! If I respond once it will open Pandora's box and I'll do what I did on the Scott Peterson forum of CourtTV (and I'm not proud of this - months and months I can't account for) which is to have people sending me emails telling me I'm nothing but a heartless bitch. But can I just say this? Your baby shouldn't be on their belly in the crib, your relatives owe you nothing, your husband wouldn't last a flipping minute in my house, certain baby names aren't just "hard to pronounce" - they're stupid and it's honestly not a reflection on someone else when they struggle over "Quebecca" but more a reflection on YOU, leave Jesus out of it, stop saying you're not racist when you SO ARE, and for the love of all that is holy your pediatrician is just agreeing with you so you will LEAVE!
• I'm using a mix of Tri-Luma and Kinerase and my skin has never looked better. Now if I can just do something about the hair that grows on my chest, chin, and so far out on my thighs my box is a gigantic rectangle.

Monday, monday...

I like this left of center picture... (If you want me, you can find me left of center....)

He's a gorgeous boy and I love him so...

It's HIM not me...

So BP worriedly tells me he thinks something is wrong with baby i. She's constantly "squinched up" with her legs to her chest holding on to her feet. She did this all night - he's so worried - Is she gassy? Is something bothering her back? Constipated? Etc. A light bulb went off in my head - it's him - not me (at least this time) who is utterly neurotic. She's discovered her feet for Pete's sake! That's all there is to that. If suddenly you saw two parts of your body you'd never seen or had access to before and you were prone to shove things in your mouth it'd be a field day, no?

I told my mom about it this morning and she said, "Well - he wasn't around with F when he was little so he's going through this all for the first time. Just like your father, when you all were kids he wasn't around and now... etc. etc."

... Huh? Where was he when F was a baby? Why did I feel like he was there every waking minute? I won't dwell on it - it's just kind of funny. We're all revisionists I suppose.

----

Yesterday was M's funeral. We were talking when BP got home about how our perspectives have changed. Instead of this making us think of our own mortality, we both thought of our children and thought of M's parents. It used to be when things like this happened, we'd reflect on friendships and the whole melodrama of growing up and all the hardships we face. It's so different now... Once you have children you labor to make them happy - to make them engaged in life or at the very least content. It doesn't feel like it always, but it's not about you anymore. I couldn't help feeling more pain on M's parents behalf than on M's. How must it feel to have your child succumb to sadness? To have them one day decide it's time to die and to be powerless against that sadness in the same way you're powerless against a terminal illness. And if M had children, would things have been different? One of many questions unanswerable.

Thinking about books and stuff.

Last night I finished a book that I struggled to read - mainly because I'm too tired to read. But also because I didn't immediately get into it. Books that don't get me right out of the gate rarely stand a chance... this was one of those that took so long to ramp up but once it did... POW. As it happens, the author has another book, We need to talk about Kevin, which transfixed me. Her writing is so haunting, fluid & gorgeous. The book is The Post-Birthday World and my initial problem with it was this: it starts out as one of those "Groundhog Day" type books where the action happens the same way twice but told slightly differently. Well, ultimately it breaks from this and is about how a choice or non-choice impacts this woman's marriage. It's a tough one, but worth it. It made me think.

Going through some of BP's things with him to find pictures or mementos of Matt, whose funeral is tomorrow, we found a lot of my old letters to him. Geez, was I a windbag through our early relationship! (Not now, of course... tra, la, la...) As we were reading them, he remarked how I was always writing letters of apology to him and yes, for the most part, I was begging forgiveness, explaining myself, and asking for his patience. It's humbling to look back on us and see in print how much I put him through, how much he went through just 'cause he loved me. I'm grateful for his tenacity and so much more. He was meant for me - no one else could or would love me in this way.

.. Baby i went off meds altogether & seemed to be struggling again. She's back on them and seems to be struggling again. I wish her GI appt wasn't in July. I don't think we'll make it until then. I know there's more to her than this crankiness and sleepiness and moodiness. When she has those moments of feeling "right" she's so delicious and sweet and serene I can't even stand it. I hate this for her... I won't stop until she's figured out. (Now that's slightly funny - when do we ever figure another person out? Okay, so I'll rephrase... I won't stop until she seems okay.)

I'll be glad when April is in the rear-view mirror.

Just pictures!

I had to get baby i in her baby I shirt!

... this is so funny ... all three of them checking hockey stats!

It never fails!

One month before paying off the car and in the midst of considering quitting my job, my transmission blows.

$3,000.

This sucks.

What if it turns out my Mommy Intuition is wrong?

So... the gastro-pediatrician took baby i off of Axid and put her on Prevacid. She suggested we try prune juice to help with the constipation. All of this meant to hold us over until her lower G.I. Well... we put it to the test yesterday. We gave her Prevacid in the a.m. & prune juice in the afternoon. She spent the day clinging to me like a koala bear & I her eucalyptus tree and whining and crying. Oh, and spitting up/puking. She tried very hard NOT to drink the prune juice... she'd let it fill her mouth and then when it overflowed it would just drain right back out, down her face and all over her shirt (and me). (Man, is that stuff THICK!) She was beside herself all day. Girlfriend is not going to do well when she's sick. That stuff I said to the gastro-ped about my "Mommy's intuition" has me thinking... what if I'm wrong? She had her worst day ever after seeing the best we could find right now. What's the common denominator? Is it the medicine (Axid) that makes her sick/grouchy in the first place and nothing is really wrong? Should I just leave the poor thing alone? Am I the common denominator? Is our infamous over-parenting the common denominator? Today I'm giving this a shot - doing nothing, giving her nothing, not looking for signs of something. Clearly my intuition that something is "wrong" hasn't entirely left... but I'm wondering now if what's "wrong" is that I think something is "wrong" and I'm treating her for that and making things "wrong" in the process. Oh boy, this motherhood thing is fun.

So we had the day from Prevacid with baby i yesterday and a despondent F who was just strung-out tired. He wept through his bath b/c he had so many sores the water "hurt." He counted and he has 45 boo-boos and they all are "killing him." He wept through my cutting his fingernails after bath because his right hand, according to him, was not long & didn't need to be cut. It was his left hand that was long. I wasn't even going to try to reason with him on this one. I just clipped and he cried. And as he was falling asleep (at the wee hour of 7) he gave BP the "my life is terrible" speech... "I had a bad day. I have 45 boo boos. I lost my bouncey ball. I got a bad note home from school. Mommy cut both of my hands' fingernails and they didn't need it." Etc. Etc. I walked in to BP giving F a "Control your own destiny!" speech. I think it was a little heavy-handed (when all F really needed was to just fall the heck asleep), but it did give me reason to smile. We were trainwrecks last night of the first order.

And now entirely off-topic but also among the macabre...

It's so gross and cliche that the VT murderer was just a reclusive weirdo with no real motive other than to act out his internal pain at such a hopelessly high cost. It makes me plain sick. When you're going to turn the gun on yourself in the first place, belly up to the bar and do it FIRST. My heart hurts awfully for those families and friends of the victims who lost something so definitively irreplaceable for someone so decisively sick. A friend of mine works with someone who lost their son on Monday at VT in this, the end of his senior year. Thinking of that, I feel gutted. This guy doesn't deserve to go down in infamy. I don't want to see his "creative writing" or hear about his "stalking" and alarming behaviors. I don't care about him one whit. I think others should turn their back on this dissection of this maniac as well. Find out how to prevent this from happening again? I'm all for it! Understand this guy? No thanks. But it does raise the question, why are all of these incidents remarked on with, "Oh yeah - that guy was unhinged!" or "Surprised? No way. The only thing surprising is that he didn't snap sooner." or my favorite, "I contacted the cops twice he had me so concerned. They said they couldn't do anything to him for being weird." Ugh. Ugh. Moan. (And here I reveal my one discrimination - people who raise that inner red flag. I hate them. I know they're not stable. Read "Protecting the Gift" - I beg you - and you'll know why!)

Finally, watching the Oprah two-day special on the "backlash" from Don Imus I felt I was in a parallel universe. One where I'm meant to be enlightened by the likes of Common (who was honestly verbose & composed) and Russell Simmons (who has such a strange lisp BP asked if he'd had a stroke) and to find meaning and "poetry" in hip-hop & to understand why it is a rappers' right to say the things the rest aren't meant to say & that are not meant the way Don Imus took license. Sure, there's some poetry in there sometimes and sure, Imus had no business saying what he did. I get that; I don't use that language myself (and heaven help the child of mine who does). But, for once can we address why anyone is using anyone in the entertainment world or the media as their moral compass? And for crying out LOUD can we stop repeating these slurs over and over by anyone with a byline or a microphone when they take place? Wagging my finger and saying, "Parents... arrange your children so that when these words are flung at them they won't fall down." This way when rappers, talk show hosts, Don Imus, Mel Gibson, et al get verbal diarrhea they can understand this kind of shit can roll right off.

And to lighten things up - taking F to see Blades of Glory and hearing him use the term "sex addicts" was a true highlight (or is it low point?). Didn't I tell you being a mom is fun? To quote Carmine Jr from last Sunday's Sopranos, "The sacred and the propane..."

Sad day yesterday...

I couldn't believe the news out of Blacksburg. We heard just as we were headed into baby i's gastroenterologist appointment. Stunning & deeply saddening. I wonder if our rabid media can take the attention of Al Sharpton and Don Imus now and focus on getting guns out of the hands of lunatics & helping repair a torn university - and a broken country... Even the Blacksburg police - authorized to carry loaded weapons - couldn't do anything to stop what happened yesterday. I'd gladly give away my right to bear arms. I don't want that right anyway. I imagine it sounds idealistic to wish for a gun-free nation. Times like this make everything so senseless - why not allow wishes that belie common sense into the fray, too?

April is always a weirdly tragic month, ever notice that?

It seems trivial to talk about much else this entry except to say this: Life is impossibly short.

Ah what a week in television.

I watch too much TV. No, seriously - too much TV. What else am I supposed to do? Last night both chil'ren were in bed asleep by 7:45 & BP is out of town. (Like how I inserted that as though if he were home he wouldn't smack dab on alternate couch hogging the remote.) Enough with the excuses - you don't like when adults haven't fostered more respectable hobbies, to hell with you.

So anyways...

Sopranos! Welcome back. Yes, I was initially angry with you for leaving for so long but then I figured you were weaning me and that's good. Let's start with a request... nay, a plea. For the love of all that is holy, please STOP showing Tony & Carm in bed together in any way, shape or form. I've already admitted my weird sloppy old-man crush on Tony Soprano but I didn't mean to imply I EVER want to see him "ahem" engaged. And the thought of Carm going down on him for his birthday. Well, it's just too much.

Okay... now... Where was Christo'fuh? Even in his 2-second appearance (Happy Birthday! -- click --), he got a laugh. Blam... the season was off to a great start. If you don't think Tony is at heart cruel, think again. Instead of just ax-ing Bobby on the way to meet the (who were those people?) French Canadians in the bar (??), he is going to take Bobby on a long torturous ride of another kind. Fact is, after the brawl which Bobby instigated you can't help thinking if he's THAT stupid he deserves whatever Tony's got to give. Bobby knows he's so fucked. When he picked up his kid Nica (is it just me or does this child's name change?) by the water - the shot was magical. He might as well wear a toe tag.

I started to read the reviews and then thought - screw it. I do wish Imus hadn't gone on that racial tear (??) - I always like hearing his recaps & such.

Bobby, playing Monopoly with the family:
"You Sopranos! You always take it too far."

and Janice...

"Fuck the Parker Brothers."

America's Next Top Model. I'm guessing this is how a crack addiction feels... you really truly love crack. Crack makes you happy and does this delicious crawl through your veins that just feels right... But your friends and neighbors would be appalled to know you loved it & even your alcoholic boss would get all "I can't believe you do crack" on you. Oh, that show... Last night was a real coo for me. As I said, kids were in bed before 8. Just me on the couch with some cherry turnovers (!!!) and rain going on in the background. Dionne brings the F-bombs, Brittany brings the horrendous hair, Tyra brings the weird headband and 1/2 shirt posing as a dress (??) and Jael brings her Kurt Cobain/Courtney Love fused accent and "free-spirit" disposition. (Side note - don't you just love it when someone prats on and on and on and on about being a "free spirit?" Gag.) It's redundant to ask this, but can't you just hear Jael sing, "Why are there so many songs about rainbows?" Natasha seriously might win this thing by virtue of just simply not knowing what the fuck is going on... ("They decided I didn't miss my baby as much as they did." Sigh!) I'm gonna go with Brittany winning this thing & that isn't because I think she should (remotely) and it isn't because her hair is at all better looking now that the weave has been cut out (god, it SO isn't)... nor is it because she looks like a Phyllis who drinks 40s and lives in a pink ranch house with pelicans on the garage door perpetually smoking her Newport. Mainly it's because if they pick Dionne she's too much like Dannielle. Renee too much like Joannie. Jaslene too much like... hmm... have their been any former drag queens on it before? Jael - too much like a jacked up Scarlett Johannson.

Oh boy - I went on a tear with that one... That's what a 4 am wake up will do and three cups of coffee... Gotta take this time where you can get it.

So - in closing... The Tudors. Do I like the show or do I just feel I should like the show? When the camera pans to Anne Boleyn - I felt the foreboding interest I've always had in the story but I'm not sure I can take much more of Jonathan Reese Witherspoon or whats-his-name's silly pursed lips face. Seriously when he challenges King of France (who looks suspiciously like a New England fraternity boy even in cloaks and huge gold baubles) to the wrestling match I don't see how they could've let that scene pass through the editing room. I'm picturing a bunch of people gathered around the editing tables going, "I give up. There is no footage with him not making trout face. Anyone have any pictures of Henry? Maybe he's supposed to look like he's just come from an uptown surgeon on his lunch break." He's just too FIERCE looking. I'm Henry viii and I'm FIERCE. Look at me... I'm FIERCE. See how I walk? FIERCE! Hear me talk? FIERCE! Even when I'm just a filler in a scene? FIERCE! Just sitting alone wondering about peace treaties... FIERCE! Hey... we get it. He's FIERCE. He could take a lesson from Tony Soprano... Tone makes you forget he's fierce & that's the draw. He's not all overwrought Dixie Carter in Designing Women (and come to think of it everything else she's been in) - so'thern, so'thern, so'thern... As Gah-wad as mah' witniss I'm sah so'thern.

Kids are good. Baby i learned to stick her tongue out in response to you sticking your tongue out and it's quite adorable and fascinating. She just sort of splays it out of her mouth and hangs it there unsure how far or for how long she has to hold it. In usual F fashion he was very sweet and complimentary, "She has a cute little tongue... she's so smart to learn this..." (Oh he's beyond cheesy cute.) F got his report card yesterday and it was his best one of 2nd grade. He didn't understand why he didn't get a "4" in Science & Health since he has perfect attendance... I said, "I think this means health class, F, not your physical health." Life is fun with an airhead child... he's a trip. And ever-obsessed with perfect attendance, he told me Charlie from his class last year got perfect attendance. He called him "Bad Charlie" and I didn't remember Charlie being even slightly "bad" but F assured me he was. I couldn't resist, I said, "Maybe since Charlie was so bad his parents wouldn't let him stay home with them even when he was sick." F's eyes kind of widened but then he got in on the joke. I think I did make him wonder if perfect attendance is such a great thing after all.

I joined the ranks of Moms feeding her children too soon...

But boy is she cute. She doesn't really care about the eating, per se, but she loves being level with us at the table and can't get enough of the silly choo-choo train noises that accompany the feeding. It doesn't appear to remotely make her less hungry... so when they say it's empty calories, they really mean EMPTY! Of course, one doesn't come a pudgy ballerina without the intake:

This picture just makes me smile. I love the little belly over the tu-tu. It flies in the face of the primadonna! This outfit was a gift from Nana and we needed photos in it before she outgrew it.

I've got to snap out of my mood as of late. I hate being so out of control. I hate not having a definitive answer from within... should I work? Shouldn't I? Is everything okay for everyone during any given day and if not - what can I do to make it so? Is it my responsibility to make it so? How can I release this? Anti-anxiety meds? Could I be a stay-at-home Mom... but what then? If I leave the workplace, could I return? What am I compromising for a job that brings NO JOY? What's going on beneath the beautiful blonde head of my boy? When he looks sad, is he? Do I worry too much?

Of course I do. Of course I worry too much... To add to my neuroticism I shall now go and worry too much about worrying too much. To all the parents who make it seem effortless I raise and wave my cushy & unmanicured middle finger.

I wish that I could...

• complain without feeling ungrateful. Sometimes you just want to have a good old-fashioned rotten fit. Why follow that up with guilt?
• quit complaining. (As you can see I'm in a quandary!)
• just relax! RELAX. RELAX. RELAX.
• enjoy my children instead of moving from task-to-task and feeling like a day laborer. I think the last time someone stopped by my house unannounced it was my mother. She wouldn't notice if I was on fire, let alone if I had dust bunnies in the corners of my rooms. And what is it I'm trying so hard to clean away? -- Hmm... I'm not ready for that trip to the psychiatrist couch.
• stop being so mean to BP. Isn't he eventually going to throw up his hands and say, "That's it. I'm finding someone nice." I shouldn't see if he has a breaking point.
• quit worrying that there's more to what someone says to me than what's on the surface. Not everyone has an agenda. Do they? Do I?
• get dressed in the morning and instead of thinking, "Why is this so bulgy or that so crinkly?" and just think, "Okay." I'm not expecting miracles... I'll never be entirely pleased. But things could be worse!
• quit seeing the negative. Yes - she did this; he did that; I'm tired; it's not fair; I always have to ____. But who gives a rip, really? I'm here & I'm healthy.
• let myself feel the change in my life since baby i. Yes, she is a blessing. But it's okay at 3 in the morning to think, "GO BACK TO SLEEP before I claw my own eyes out." (Isn't it?) I don't have to well up with tears and feel like a schmuck for just. wanting. some. rest.
• let go. There are people in my life who have been trying to exit gracefully (or at least their version of gracefully). Being tenacious for the right reasons is a good thing. Being tenacious for the wrong reasons is sadistic.
• stop making F. wait. Baby i. can cry. And she does anyway. So, pay some attention to my tow-head. I saw sadness in his eyes the last time I snapped at him. Perhaps I should cut that out, too.
• take help when it's offered. Ask for it when it's not.
• stop using my free time trying to achieve the insurmountable - don't barter away my moments for nothing.
• remember how to read... take in words because I love them... they lift me up. The shape of them on the page, their music...
• forgive... sans apologies. Surely someone has done the same for me or I wouldn't have what I do and be loved the way I'm loved. If I'm always the victim, then I'm pretty helpless at best.
• lighten the EF up. (See all of the above)

Lucky Girl

I was holding baby I as she was falling asleep for her nap this morning and what kept running through my mind as I was looking at her is, "She's so lucky..." She gets to do anything... everything... it all lies ahead of her. I realized my outlook on life has evolved (and that - sadly - I'm old). I envy her for having so much in front of her... even the stuff I thought I wouldn't wish on anyone (heart ache, etc). Lucky girl. I hope it's an amazing journey for her. Girls seem so complicated. I want to do it right for her so that while on the journey she has just what she needs.

Mima Supreme

The in-laws and Mima (BP's Grandmother) stopped for an overnight on the way to visit Susie and they brought along this jewel of a story... Apparently for the past couple of months, Mima has been trying to win Publisher's Clearing House. The story began with how she didn't really take it seriously but she figured her kids could really use 10 million dollars. Even though they told her she didn't have to buy anything to win, she felt it bettered her chances to buy something. She spent $70-some on various items from their catalog (one of which was a Kaleidoscope for F). She talked about how if she won she planned to give her grandkids a million each and $500k to the temple (to which we all balked that temple didn't deserve 50% of what she felt her grandkids were worth but she explained she really wants the temple to have central air conditioning throughout). Anyway, the letters from Publisher's Clearing House really picked up the pace even telling her where they were going to order flowers from locally and what hotel they'd stay in the night before - the local references upped the ante and she got very excited). Well, they gave her a script of what they'd prefer her to say when they came to the door, "I just won Publisher's Clearing House! It really can happen! Dreams do come true!" Now... Mima explained she normally gets her hair done on Wednesday, but Publisher's Clearing House would be coming on Wednesday and she thinks her hair looks better the 2nd day after having it done. So, the week she was supposed to win she went a couple days early for her hair and because she was worried she'd forget her lines, she taped the script from Publisher's Clearing House by the front door. Well, sadly she didn't win (or there'd be one happy Rabbi in upstate New York) but she's taking it in stride. Instead of a lesson in how that demographic gets exploited by these kinds of hoaxes, I'll take it as a lesson in hopefulness.

Whoa... Keds.

Seriously when did Keds get so cute?

The only problem I see is that people are going to resist buying thinking, "Can I really pay $40+ for KEDS?" If I were their PR people I'd face that kind of image buster HEAD ON. And simply using Mischa Barton in your commercials is not enough.

It feels do-able

Yesterday was one of those "do-able" days. I found myself thinking, "I can do this." Why is that noteworthy? Because more often than not I find myself thinking, "What was I thinking? I can't do this." This being work, 2 children, traveling husband, recent influx of company, "budget constraints" and crazy boss. Yesterday was a point for the home team. Some highlights of the day were:

• picking Baby I. up to be told, "This was one of her best days yet!" Bonus: Missing a bowel movement during said best day yet. (BMs are a bit - heartbreaking - for my little puss bless her heart! We're talking two-hour angst-filled production.)
• I read... actual CHAPTERS of a book.
• I cruised a couple of online stores and put things in a basket/cart and didn't buy. Virtual window shopping. Now THERE is a thought. (Confession: there was that one Octopus outfit that I couldn't say no to... but I had a coupon about to expire so technically I HAD to.)
• I had the perfect opportunity to be insubordinate to my boss and I surprised us both by acting submissive and agreeable. (More bonus points because now my boss is going to have to devote some time this week to new ways to undermine and rattle me! Mwahhhh-ahhh-ahhhh!)
• I did the 4 o'clock feeding last night! Now if only I could stop talking to BP before and after those feedings I'd REALLY be useful.
• I had a clean house, a clean dog, clean kids, and a moderately clean husband.
• I got a baby announcement in the mail yesterday and within five hours I went online and ordered a baby gift. (This was not during the virtual window shopping so it does not count.) Check! No perpetual "Get Baby Gift" at the top of this girl's to-do list! Not only that, but the gift was super cute.

It's a good thing I started today with a slight reserve of optimism since I've been up since 3:45, had three cups of coffee, and feel a bit wilted already.

A new low...

There were swarms of emails going around on Friday in regard to an "urgent" work issue. I wasn't even on the clock, but was checking email and somehow got in the middle of said "urgent" issue. I asked my boss if he could access a particular page on our website. He could not access it. Why? He was responding from his Treo during Happy Hour. The give-away should have been the erratic misspellings and seemingly contained mood (usually this kind of thing would throw him off half-cocked). The highlight of the exchange?? When he replied to all, "If I'm not too hungover, I'll look into this over the weekend."

Whoa.

It's not as mystifying as him coming into a staff meeting with an ace bandage around his wrist one day and responding to our inquiries as to what happened with, "I can't remember. It was one of those black-out kind of nights."

And to think... I considered not returning to work.

***************

F. lost one of his front teeth over the weekend. He lost it in a squirmish in the attic with his playdate. He couldn't find the tooth (still hasn't) and he was worried that the tooth fairy wouldn't leave him $. I told him the tooth fairy would still visit. Just in case, he wrote the following:

Dear Tooth Fairy,

I couldn't find my tooth when I lost it. It's somewhere in the attic if you need it.

From,
F.

Because his other tooth is hanging (sideways) by a thread, it's moved to the center of his mouth. I told him he looked like a Hillbilly. He asked what a Hillbilly is; I responded, "It's someone who lives in the mountains without access to dental care." He responded - dead serious - "Cool."