Blogging from jj’s iPhone makes me feel like the total hipster I think of myself as. I just need a swanky black turtleneck, skinny pants and Audrey Hepburn sitting next to me. And perhaps a spot of sun with an equally cool cat basking in it.
You may have noticed that I have started monitoring comments. I will not be taking that off. Some of you are haters and hate me. This blog is not me in my entirety. I find it very short sited of people to think that because they read this, they have any sort of context in which to base their idea of who I am. I also find it very hard to think of things to write of late. Because I know that some of you are out there hating. If you have hateful things to say to me perhaps you should stop reading my blog. You know, there are choices in life. One being reading others blogs. The another being an ass. I am a happy girl and if that upsets you, that is sad.
I would also like to define forgiveness. Forgiveness is releasing the pain that a person has caused in your life. A person could rape another and forgive the rapist. However, the person who was raped does not have to let the rapist back in their life. Forgiveness is different from trust. A rapist will never have trust again. I have forgiven the people that have hurt me. However, I will not be letting you in my life. I do not trust you.
Also, I find I must state as I have before, that being a relative does not make you my family. I choose who I let in my life and I call them family. Good people. Honest people. Trustworthy people. They are my family. I love myself and my family enough to protect myself from unhealthy, toxic people. I mean it.
I have not mentioned before, but Gentry and I are part of a preschool swap thing. He is gone for an hour and a half every Monday and Wednesday. For this I pay the price of having to teach once a month. Not bad really, except that it is not really once a month. It is twice every other month. Still not bad right?
Except, who sends their children to preschool with boogers smeared clear across their face. “How nice to see you!” I say, then shut the door and vomit on all offending slime covered children. “Come get a kleenex and wipe your face please,” I say. More boogers are added to the dense sludge cake. Must run to bathroom to vomit a little more.
AND THEN! Then I have to wipe some other persons nose and hands and get all offending boogers out of the house. Which gets me all a twitching in my eye.
Then while the nice little girls are singing songs, there are two boys acting like beached whales on my couch. All flopping and groaning and leaking saliva. Only one of these boys was mine and I am not the sweet teacher or the kind and gentle mother. I am the mean one with the ruler and the board with the holes and I swatted them hard. Or being translated, I put them in opposite corners and made them have a timeout so we girls could continue singing about stars and buses and farmers.
I eventually gave up with teaching these pre-pubescent pre-kindergarten pre-potty trained toddlers anything and turned on the tv and we watched Super Why. I knew the tv would turn them nearly comatose and that is a state of toddlerhood I rather enjoy, especially when there are 6 of them here.
I could not publish yesterday. It was slightly frustrating. I kept pushing the thing and it kept saying it was working on it and by about 4:00 it said it was 55% done. What a quick and efficient worker. I guess my trusty hampsters had quit their cycling for the day at 1 o’clock AM, mountain standard time.
Also, I broke jj’s laptop. It was about a month ago, I fell asleep with it in bed with me. There is nothing like falling asleep with a warm laptop on your tum tum. I rolled over and it fell off me and landed on the floor on the power cord insertion device. And dented it. So it has done ok since then until yesterday. Now it has a hard time recognizing the power cord and so we have to prop it up with a lego. Or a table knife. Or an ipod. Or an ipod and lego. And it has to be just so. Turn me a little bit more. A little more. A little more. Yes. There.
No. Not there. Turn a little more. A little more.
You get the idea. Super sensitive. Like a teenager. Who ran out of hairspray. Who’s mother said hello. Who you looked at incorrectly. Just like that.
So I am now trying to decide if I want a new laptop of my own to sleep with or if the other two computers we have would suffice. But laptops are so nice. You can use them in bed, and on the porch and in the bathroom if needs be.
Thanks to Annie for the title.
One thing I struggle with is honesty, in the complete opposite way most people struggle with it.
If you were to ask me if your butt looked big in those jeans, and it did, I would tell you. Honestly. I would try to think of nice words, like “smashed juicy ham”, or “are tight pants the new style?” But lying to make you feel better about it, that is not me. I cannot do it. My mind goes blank and all I can think is the honest truth. No sugar coating or beating around the bush.
If your children are raving lunatics every single time I see them and scream that they hate me when I so boldy say “hello”, I may agree with you when you tell me that you think they are difficult children. I won’t add more, like “have you considered testing for rabies” or “bad mommie, very bad mommie.” But I am not going to lie and tell you they are angelic children of God, when clearly they are spawn of Satan.
Lastly, isn’t birthday money the best. I mean really, even when it is not for you. I love the freedom to spend on things I want, where I want. It is so much better than, well, pretty much most things.
And thats the truth.
Daylight Saving Time means less of this, for a little while anyway.
We have a new favorite song around these parts.
The itsy bitsy Spiderman climbed up the water spout.
Down came the rain and washed Spiderman out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.
And the itsy bitsy Spiderman climbed up the spout again.
A year ago, I spent a week with jj in Hawaii. We left November 1st, the day after Halloween. Halloween will always be the anniversary of the first time I went to Hawaii.
I cannot explain the longing and need I have to go back, especially knowing that the winter is coming and I don’t have a tropical local planned for the near future. Also, I don’t think it would be very much fun with the small one. One of us could be in the water alone, the other would spend the day digging on the beach. And since I am irrationally scared of water, it would probably be me watching jj body surf and snorkel.
But I am still filled with the longing. I think it will never leave and I will need to go back for my booster shots of Hawaii.
The first time I met him, we broke into another guys ftp account (actually, the other guy thought we were a match made in heaven and had given me his password), photoshoped over my cleavage and then put the picture back.
We worked together in the computer labs at Utah State. But I made him work to get a date with me. He asked me out several times, trying to convince me he was the most suave and debonair guy around. He eventually did convince me and we went out, for more than a year. Shock, I know. In Utah that is blasphemous.
He was the right decision for me, I knew it early on. I waited/beat him into realizing I was the one for him.
He has always been so kind to me. Always. Even the time when I was mad and threw everything out of every single cupboard in the apartment. Clothes. Towels. Sheets. He has waited patiently for me to grow up. He has held my hair back when I puke. He has been my quiet cheer leader. He has been my strength when I had none. He has gone months, probably an entire year, without getting any while I figure out birth control options.
Patience and stability. He is what I need.
He has quietly changed me. Made me better. He is 31 today.
I like to tease him about the slowly balding spot in the back and 14 gray hairs he has. But there is no one else I want.
Also, I have been attempting potty training the wee one. This is a joy beyond compare. Especially today. He let loose with a giant squishy mess right in his Tow Mater underpants. Being that I am full of patience and love, I threw those underwear away. His favorites, Lightening McQueen, are safe but I bet tomorrow he will join Mater in the garbage. I may be the mother, but I will not be washing loads the size of Georgia out of anyones underwear. This should make for great birthday dinner conversation.
happy birthday babe.
love, me
