Wednesday, March 04, 2009

there she goes (again)

I've got one losing teeth and one gaining.

It's totally slowdown warp speed again. Where things are changing. When babies aren't babies and kids are in kindergarten it's all shuffling around and I'm not sure how it will all play out.

The weird thing about parenting. Let me start that over. One of the very many weird things about parenting is that you really are the same person you were when you started. This is nothing new, this insight, nothing earthshattering or breathtaking or anything like that. No, it's that very common realization that I have not changed much at all since I had my children. I still am insecure, silly, and think I'm a better dancer than I am. I still say the wrong thing, wish I had more clothes, and love to read. I still procrastinate, delegate, and love to debate. Anything. I still am me at the core.

If I thought of having children I think I assumed that once you had them you got a free ticket; a golden pass to being smart. Getting stuff. This shows an enormous lack of awareness, I mean, just look around at how many parents so obviously don't get it. But I for sure thought that all of the bad stuff, the unanswered questions, the worries and insecurities, that would all go away and a deep sense of peace would descend and I would be Sure.


So now one is nearly toothed and the other nearly toothless and it's not coming together and I think I have a glimpse, a glimmer, that this is how it goes and that is okay.

Peace out.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

And a sharp turn off the path

This might be a good thing, I'm thinking. Of late (perhaps of always?) this blog has been devoted to, ahem, the lesser. Ranting, raving, and the ridiculous the headliners, and often a good dose of as-far-from real important as as could be.

I have these two people in my life. People. I have to highlight that word, because it's only recently struck me that they are people, not mini-me's or mini-already-exisitings.

At five it's pretty darn apparent that she is her own person. Listing off all the lessons she takes and/or will take, I got to basketball. Basketball has always been a sort of given, as it's her dad's passion. Plus she's nearly my height.

"Basketball?" Her little nose wrinkled and her forehead creased. "I'm not playing basketball, mummy." There are times when her voice is firm and sure, and this was one of them. "I'm going to play golf."

Golf? Golf? Who knew.

We are not golfers. Oh for sure, we have an expensive men's set, along with expensive additions and boxes of pristine white golf balls. Golf shirts in size XXXL, won as doorprizes. I even worked summers at a golf course in high school. But we are not golfers.

The little one is mad for books right now, and when I say mad I'm quite sure it wouldn't be an exaggeration to hint at froth at the mouth. She sits next to me now, with her mullet hair pulled back in a ponytail and her face determined as she flips through the pages, hunting for babies, dogs, and Dora.

"Gook! Gook!" She turns around and backs toward me, bum out in a half crouch, ready to plunk down on my lap. "Go. Go." Her voice is commanding, the way a second child must be in order to get their own attention.

We walked outside after dinner tonight. There are still piles of snow everywhere but the frigid has lifted and now it's just frosty. Cold and all, plus a glass of red on top of the Tylenol yellow pills made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Little one on the toboggan and Miss Five walking beside, we enjoyed the fact that at after six it was still light out.

We've made it. Spring is coming.

[at which point readers hear full course of "Hallelujah"]

Monday, March 02, 2009

Mother-effing cold

I fought the cold and the cold won. Bastard.

I was so sure I could kick it. I used my neti faithfully, doubled up on the Progressive Vitamin C, and went to bed early. That's not totally true, but I did watch Pineapple Express which I thought was going to totally suck and I laughed out loud many times throughout. Rather odd, my husband thought perhaps I was drunk and perhaps I was, but it was still funny. Point being that I thought laughing was good for the immune system.

Even though I felt like ass yesterday I went to yoga and that part of the day was awesome. [If you can, go back and re-read that sentence and sing the "awesome" part because that's how it's supposed to read. Awe-some, like that.]

I'm going to drag myself to Mysore tonight but I have no expectations whatsoever that I will a) be able to breathe through my nose and b) enjoy headstand.

In hopes of a brief nap while the baby was down I allowed the five year old to do my hair. This involves her getting out all my "product," as she calls it, and spraying copious amounts in and then patting it down and complimenting me on my very "smooth" hair.

It was only after I realized one of the products she used was an aloe vera after sun skin care, but no mind. It washed out.

If we weren't mostly strangers I would post the photo of me, nine or ten (perhaps eleven) months preggo with the second, in July, with incredibly high humidity (in my city that rhymes with fun we don't normally have humidity so I don't know how to describe it other than ridiculous) when I let the child do my hair and then put makeup on me. A few of you have seen it, and hopefully still love me. For those who haven't I don't think it would be good for our relationship.