Archive for March, 2006

Naps are looming…

March 24, 2006

We were all up late last night..well, late for US, anyway, and Henry came home with red eyes and his characteristic piss-ass attitude that usually ends up in a nap right about….NOW.

He’s upstairs, in the big overstuffed chair, reading his new library book,and I sense that the nap is coming. It’s inevitable. I can hear him breathing heavy. Our house is weird that way; there’s two wings, kind of; with one wing leading to a spiral staircase (very retro) and so I am downstairs but not really downstairs, if that makes any sense.

Why can't I marry my brother?

March 22, 2006

conversation in the car on the way to kindergarten this morning:

“Mommy, when I get married and have my kids and my doggie I want to live next to you and Daddy so we can go on walks all the time. And we can have snacks.”

“That sounds great, Honey. I would love that.”

“I think I’m going to marry Henry.”

“Well, you can’t marry your brother, sweetie.”

“Why not?”

brief pause while I try to figure out what to say here

“Look Mommy! There’s a squirrel on the power line!”

Why can’t I marry my brother?

March 22, 2006

conversation in the car on the way to kindergarten this morning:

“Mommy, when I get married and have my kids and my doggie I want to live next to you and Daddy so we can go on walks all the time. And we can have snacks.”

“That sounds great, Honey. I would love that.”

“I think I’m going to marry Henry.”

“Well, you can’t marry your brother, sweetie.”

“Why not?”

brief pause while I try to figure out what to say here

“Look Mommy! There’s a squirrel on the power line!”

Bloated on Tortellini and Love

March 21, 2006

I just ate two plates of tortellini. And my S.O. (Sordid Object) danced around for a solid 45 minutes with the munchkins to techno-dance music, playing air synthesizers and pretty much rocking the HELL out of our living room floor.

Now he’s picking out books to read to said munchkins while I poop around on the ‘puter.

Somebody’s getting lucky tonight!

Lazy Saturday

March 18, 2006

I’m listening to Miles Davis, the Henry is playing with Hot Wheels, the James is constructing some kind of Lego dungeon, the Emma is at dance with the Daddy, and I’m STILL in my bathrobe and jammies, musing on whether or not I really need a shower because that would entail, you know, work.

Regarding the wanker post from yesterday. The contractor is still a wanker, but now we’re taking the wanker’s ass to court, and hopefully he will be banned from ever doing this kind of shoddy work ever again. Plus, I’m really trying hard to restrain myself from prank-calling him and calling him a wanker and (so far) I’ve succeeded admirably. So far.

Today’s activities include showering (maybe), getting the dog’s nails clipped (I can’t do it, it grosses me out), and perhaps taking a nap. I’ll also be watching some sort of old movie, taking the dog for a walk, and staring at my cat. Good times!

I have no friends

March 15, 2006

Waa, waa, waa.

No, in all seriousness, I have lots of “friends”, you know, the ones that I run into at school or out and about, but I don’t have anyone who would check up on me if I missed like three weeks of church or if I just up and died. I know that sounds horribly sad and it IS.

I was especially aware of this today. I think that maybe it’s coming from the fact that for the first 12 years or so of our marriage, we were so busy just surviving, living hand to mouth, food bank, church charity, you name it, that I got to the point where I was embarrassed to have friends know what was going on. I have held a lot of that shame over, even though we’re so totally past that and are living very comfortably now, but it’s still a very real part of my life. And in all honesty I hope that I never forget how horrible it is to live in poverty. Most people in America don’t have a clue of what real poverty is, but when you have to dig through a dumpster to find food? That’s poverty.

Sometimes I also think that the fact that I’ve chosen a very solitary work occupation – writer – definitely affects me having friends. I correspond with people all day long on my computer, but I go days and days without having a meaningful conversation with anyone other than my husband.

Which brings me to another rambling point. My husband is my best friend. So I’m not totally bereft of human companionship. I just long for the easy friendships that I see so many women have with each other. I have always longed for that.

Lately I’ve also been wondering if I should choose another profession, one that gets me out of the house and interacting with people. I know that I’m sliding into depression again, and that’s a scary place to be – I was horribly depressed for the first five years of our marriage, and I’ve been in and out for the last ten years or so. I tried anti-depression drugs but they don’t really work on me.

I’m now going to hit the Publish button really fast. I don’t regret writing this to you, vast soundless Internet, but it’s sad to me to see these words on the screen. I don’t know how to fix it.

Why Does My Dog Hate Me?

March 14, 2006

Man’s best friend my ass. Our dog, Charlie (Charles in Charge) insists that the correct place to take a giant crap is on the carpet. Well, if I had to choose between the green, green grass of home (which is cold and wet right now) and the cozy, warm, welcoming carpet..I would choose the GRASS BECAUSE CRAPPING ON THE CARPET IS NASTY.

I swear to the Baby Jebus that if my dog craps on the carpet again I will do something highly regrettable in hindsight.

Why My Children Will Drive Me To Drink, The Crazy House, Or A Combo Of Both

March 14, 2006

Henry is a cute little eight year old, unfortunately, he’s also the Spawn of the Devil. Literally. Tonight as we’re practicing some handwriting, he informs me tearily that he HATES this! It’s STUPID! I HATE IT! I could almost feel my blood pressure throbbing in that weird vein on the top of my head, yearning to break free…I could almost start understanding why women throughout the 1950’s popped Valium and drank martini chasers until their husbands got home…however, I took the moral high ground. Oh, yes, indeedy I did.

I did what every truly loving mother would do in this situation, and started agreeing with him! “I hate it too!” “Yes, it’s stupid!” He eventually started looking at me sideways, probably thinking “what the heck is wrong with my mother?” And then thankfully my motherhood instinct – you know, the one that tells you that it’s probably not a good idea to think about putting your child in the oven? -kicked in and all was well. Ten minutes after this little episode he looks up at me with those big green eyes and says, “Momma? I need some huggie time.” And I sniffed his baby head smell and kissed his baby head cheeks and once again all was well in the universe.

But I’m keeping the oven on standby.