But It’s A Good Refrain

October 19, 2007 Me, Unplugged, family

For the last few days I’ve been going through the motions of being me, but I’m a better me for some reason and I know it’s too many Quad Venti Iced Sugar-Free Vanilla Non-Fat Lattes.? Oh, I’m kidding.? I wish Starbucks would change the name of that drink to Zero Calorie Punch In The Face - at least that is shorter.? Everytime I order it I mix up the words that are in it and the girl has to fix it in her head and regurgitate it back to me but I always have to say Quad Quad Quad so I get all my shots to the face.

So I’m listening to too much Regina Spektor (is that possible?? I think not.) and I’m weirdly happy and oddly connected.? This song and this song are particularly uplifting to me at the moment.? It’s like I’m riding the wave of me, whatever the fuck that means.? There’s nothing to be sad about, except that I miss Daren but the kids are showering me with love and sloppy kisses and tiny arms around my neck.? And I hold them a little longer, a little tighter these days.? I’ve always appreciated them so very much, but lately I look at them and watch them grow an inch or a crop of unexpected knowledge in front of my eyes and do the whole double-take thing.

In the last three days I’ve managed a bagel and a salad, and about 8 granola bars.? You know those Nature Valley Sweet & Salty ones with the peanut butter or the almond butter coating?? It’s all I want.? I know it isn’t enough but I am forcing the food as best I can.? Also?? Writing my own songs.? The kids love all the singing in the house right now.

I have this weird excitement going on in my body - a buzzing of sorts.? I know this probably not making any sense but I feel as though I’m standing on the edge of something enormous and wonderful and hopeful.? I love this feeling.

It’s perfect sobriety, it’s a cocoon of love and love and love, all around.? Nothing can touch this.

Haiku Friday: Thursday Night Tradition

October 12, 2007 family

All the good tee vee

all jammed into thursday nights

baked nachos with hubs

–

cheese, tomatoes, laughs

sneaking kisses and looks

survivor at 8

–

jeff probst narrating

tough challenges and hunger

then read to thomas

–

tucking boys in bed

little arms around my neck

multivitamins

–

c.s.i. at 9

cringe at gruesome murder scene

minister guilty

–

At 10 it’s E.R.

Abby misses Joe walking

then Ugly Betty

–

Ridiculous show

Paris called “celebutard”

Marc is my favorite

–

I love Thursday nights

drama, comedy and Hubs

start to the weekend

–

He’s home safe with us

his presence surrounds us with

smiles, laughter, love.

–

Thanks to Christina at A Mommy Story for the inspiration to write a Friday Haiku! Go see her for more!

Unsharing

October 2, 2007 family

We brought our camera on our weekend away, and we didn’t snap one picture.? We were too busy enjoying each other’s company, to be honest.

I feel as though this past weekend would lose something if I shared it with you or anyone.? That perhaps some of the magic that happened would be reduced to words on a screen.? Our time together was so meaningful that if I dare try to explain it, it will lose? something in the translation.? I’ve shared a lot in the time that I’ve blogged but this past weekend is being placed in my heart as a series of memories just for Daren and I.

I know you will understand.

Reasons I’m Bringing My Camera on This Getaway

September 28, 2007 family

No kids.

Just hubby and I.

and this:

(more…)

Old Dude.

September 24, 2007 family

We celebrated Daren’s 39th birthday on the weekend by having family and close family friends over for a rip roaring get-together that involved kids, beers, too much food, laughter, and so. much. fun.

While Daren and I shopped for the party on Friday, he lingered just a little too long in the vitamin section and when I saw what he put in our cart, I got really sad.

(more…)

‘Widdle Brudder’

September 20, 2007 family

The last few weeks have been kinda nuts. You already know what I’m juggling daily, and I’m not writing to complain yet again.

This afternoon has been perplexing. I have no experience with what is going on here, and I’m wondering if there are any Moms or Dads that do.

I got out of the shower after working until about noon, and checked on Thomas, who was playing quietly in Dylan’s room (Dylan is at school). He was talking to himself, and as I combed out my wet hair, I listened.

“Thomas, here, use this one,” he said, then I heard a toy clink into another toy. Curious, I peered out of the bathroom door at my young son. He was sitting on the floor and ‘handing’ another toy to the air in front of him.

“Whatcha doin’ buddy?” I asked him.

“Pwaying wif my widdle brudder,” he answered.

I asked him questions about his “widdle brother,” and his ‘widdle brother’s’ name is Thomas and has the same last name as him.

My heart leapt into my throat. A thousand thoughts muddled my mind: why has he developed an imaginary brother? Is this the start of a multiple personality disorder? Is he lonely? Did I not play with him enough today? Is there anything wrong with him? How do I handle this? Do I acknowledge the ‘widdle brudder?’ Do I ignore ‘him?’ If I don’t acknowledge the widdle brudder, will that be damaging?

I know I should probably calm down, that I’m probably worrying for nothing, but I don’t know how to handle it. I’ll tell you one thing, there will be no reversal of any vasectomies and we sure aren’t going to adopt any kids.

Help! How do I handle this?

___

Win a copy of the DVD Knocked Up, at Droolicious.

Money Laundering

September 9, 2007 family

With keeping the house in shape like Martha Stewart on Meth, I’ve kept the laundry up at a pace that has made Daren question my identity upon returning home to find socks! underwear! and REAL FOLDED T-SHIRTS alongside REAL FOLDED SHORTS in his drawers. Gone are the days of rifling through laundry basket number 5 to find work pants that aren’t as wrinkled as Estelle Getty’s face.

We had showing after showing after open house after open house these past few days and the kids have been great in keeping their rooms clean. Dylan has earned some extra allowance through the many benefits of child labour, and Thomas has earned his 3 bucks a week by chucking his toys into the toy box before bed and showings.

Lately I’ve noticed that Thomas has been really good about putting his clothes in the hamper and it doesn’t look like a teenage girls’ bedroom with the floor missing to hills and valleys of clothes. (He used to change 6-10 times a day and throw stuff everywhere. Ahhh… my little stripper.)

With all this running out of the house so strangers could look at (but not buy) our house, I ran a bit behind on the laundry. (Not that Daren bringing back a weeks worth helps any.) I guess I shouldn’t expect the frat house to have laundry facilities when they don’t even have curtains or um, sheets on the air mattresses. Yeah.

On an aside, I do feel terrible that Daren who works his ass off all week is sleeping on an air mattress while I’m all up in the comfort of my Serta, so I’m careful to sprawl right out while he’s away to ensure even wear on our new bed. Very generous of me, I know.

So tonight after returning from a lovely dinner at my in-laws, where our Asian Slaw Salad was a hit and we had great conversation, I brought the boys home while Daren stayed there and watched the football game with his dad. The boys were co-operative as I cleaned the kitchen up and straightened the house. I grabbed our laundry so Daren wouldn’t have to go to work naked. (They frown upon that there, especially seeing as he works with 99% men. Um, ew.)

The boys’ laundry was caught up as of Friday so I thought I’d throw what little bit they had in and was surprised to see Thomas’ hamper half full. Nevertheless, I brought it all down in Thomas’ hamper and started the washer, throwing Daren’s stuff in and hoping I had enough room for all the coloured stuff.

Near the bottom, I began to pull out Thomas’ clothes, that were NEATLY FOLDED.

The little bugger earns his 3 bucks a week by cleaning his room…into his hamper.

Brothers and Sisters

August 25, 2007 Parentless, family

The other day commenter Red Anne Vane asked:

A question for other  Motherless posters here: what kind of relationship do you have with your siblings? Because I have next to none with my two sisters; we all live several hundred miles distant and aside from commonplaces I have no idea what to say to either of them. It would be like old Gulag survivors getting together to talk about their days in prison, and who wants to relive that?

It’s different for everyone, I’m sure. My brother and I are close, always have been. We huddled together when my mother and step-father fought, hoping not to be caught in the crossfire, but he was always one step away from trying to intervene. He was only 7 when they married, and I think he wished he was bigger and stronger so he could save our mother from the fighting.

(more…)

Raising A Girl - Keeping My Daughter Safe From Guys Like Me

August 15, 2007 family

Hi, everyone!? This is DevDad (Mike) from Stay At Home Dad, Geek Style.? I recently started blogging about my life as a work at home dad.? I’m a web design and search engine optimization guy, but I’m really into photography and writing.? Feel free to check out my blog, and enter to win a Canon SD750 digital camera that I am giving away this month.? Ok, enough plugs. Onward to the good stuff!

When every guy has his first daughter, the elation and overall wonder of the new addition to his life tends to be followed by outright fear.? Fear of what, you might ask?? Fear of his own kind.? I like to believe that I am not your typical, hot-blooded 21 year old male.? However, I am willing to face the fact that guys are guys, and to be honest, the fact that my baby girl will have to deal with the animals in my tribe scares the hell out of me.

Inevitably, countless ideas run through our heads on how we’re going to keep the hoodlums at bay.? They range from sick and twisted to blatantly illegal.? Some of these master plans may include any or all of the following:

Send her to an all girl school?? No, that definitely won’t work.

Shotgun?? Too tempting.

Push for lesbianism?? Hmm, now that’s an idea.

These thoughts continue to plague us as we enjoy watching our beautiful babies turn into sweet little girls, and in my case, future angry teenagers, and finally, beautiful babies once again (since we’ll have no choice except to see them this way).? I keep confirming to myself that we get over it.? I remind myself that, at some point, we have to take a step back, and let their lives happen.? And then I start thinking some more.

I was never an asshole, in my opinion.? I was always reasonably mindful of the feelings of the girls, and then women, in my life.? Despite my undeniable aptitude for sensitivity, I’ve done some things that I’m not proud of, would never want to see happen to my daughter, or both.? With that said, if I was obviously the cream of the pubescent crop, what kind of shit is my little Alex going to have to deal with??

Being a father provokes many emotions within every guy.? It really is magical, and I am glad that I will be able to help Alex avoid the mistakes that I’ve made.? However, I can’t help wishing that I could go back in the past, change a few things, and rewrite the precedent for the behavior of the guys that she will grow up with.? That isn’t going to happen, but there must be something that can be done.

For me, if I ever have a boy, I’m going to teach him that respect is cool.? If that means it keeps him or one of his friends from breaking someone’s little girl’s heart, mission accomplished.? I just hope that other dads take my lead, and maybe, just maybe, keep their mini-men from breaking Alex’s.

“Why aren’t you wearing underwear”, and other typical conversations

August 12, 2007 family

As I lay here in my bed this morning, waiting for the angels of inspiration to fill me with wit and verve and overall brilliance, my daughter walks in and says:

“Why aren’t you wearing underwear?”

to which I - instead of being embarassed - said:

“Why are you looking at my crotch?”

Yep. That sums up life in my house.

I am Dawn.? Some days when I can’t sleep, I am Dawn of the Dead…and the rather crabby Dead at that. Other days, when I am filled with motherly inspiration, I write at this place. Gimlet Eye.

And on other days, I am herding the masses at True Wife Confession,? Last, but CERTAINLY not least, I find nekkid men to mock at this place. Hey SueBob, we got some fine specimens for you to peruse, baby.

And now, for your reading plezzzzure, I present one of the finely aged specimens of my writing - Long before anyone read me at all.? And so began my battle with the school secretaries:

It is official. I am at war with the school secretaries. Here are my declarations of war:

1. They treat my husband like he is some god on earth. I saw them do make their genuflections to his maleness this morning as we showed for our meeting.

2. When I picked up my daughter for her physical today, they descended upon me like mythical harpies. I snuck by the office ( can we imagine why??) and went straight to the classroom. As I stood, silently in the door, the loud speaker came on “MRS X, DO YOU HAVE A PARENT IN YOUR ROOM?” I actually mouthed “I hate those women” to the teacher and she mouthed “I’m sorry” before saying, “Yes, I do.” “SHE NEEDS TO CHECK IN WITH THE OFFICE BEFORE SHE LEAVES”

I gathered my daughter and walked down the hall - with the Asst Prinicipal shadowing me like I was a freaking terrorist. I half expected him to tackle me and wrestle my shoes off to check for contraband. I actually thought of continuing to walk out -without checking into the office to see what they would do, but …No, I have my daughter with me and I have to present some sort of adult role model that doesn’t involve drinking too much sangria and chasing the ice cream truck down the street.

So I make the left and stand in front of the office. The berating starts. “CAW CAW CAW, stop and sign in , CAW CAW CAW, send in a note ( which as a matter of point - I did!) CAW CAW CAW , we’ll call her from her classroom and she will meet you at this door.”

This is when I cracked. This is also when the Asst Principal guy ran in to shield the harpies from my now Medusa like fury.

Excuse me? Did you just tell me that even IF I sign in and make my ceremonial bows to your fucking power hungry ancestors, that I can’t walk down the hall to my child’s classroom and pick her up? She will be sent down from said classroom? And why is this?

“We don’t want parents to disturb the other students or teachers”

“I didn’t disturb the students or the teacher”

“The teacher wasn’t expecting you - that was discourteous to her”

“The teacher absolutely expected me - I gave her a note this morning and she knew I was coming”

“Who made this rule?” Asst Principal sputters and looks around. “Was it the school Board?” I say. “Well, no” he says, getting fairly red in the face.

Well, guess what. I am her mother. I will walk into any building at any time and I will walk to see her. You will not keep me from my daughter and frankly, I’d like to see you try.

Hi - Dawn again. I wanted to edit this story to add that by the end of THAT week, I had a special letter, signed by the principal and superintendent, stating that I could visit the school and classroom any time I wanted. Provding I signed in, of course. Those secretaries HATED me.?