I'm Back Like Jay Leno But Hopefully In A Better Way

Wow, is it hard to get back into the swing of writing anything after having taken a month off. I'm still here, I'm still muddling through, and certainly still taking things one day at a time. Some days are good, some days are an eternity. But really when I stop to look at it, that's just the way life often is, no matter what is happening in the world around me. The good and the bad often mesh together to create a richly painted canvas of who I am as a person. Not every moment needs to be profound, not every moment needs to be glorious. But beauty can be found in everything as long as I never stop looking for it. Whew. That's quite enough of the heavy for this blog post. Time to lighten things up, I think.

I know I promised a three part tale of my ice capades, and I am diligently working on part 2. I'll have it up sometime in the next couple days. I swear, sometimes my level of clumsiness surprises even me.

The past month has gone by fairly fast, with a newly crowned two year old in the house. Critter's Birthday was on Valentine's day, which kept me from yelling Bah Humbug at the top of my lungs to everyone I saw that day. Celebrating his birthday was a nice distraction. He's grown and changed a lot, and his vocabulary is expanding daily. Sometimes I can figure out what he's saying, sometimes I can't. He still diligently refuses to call me Mom, and if I listen close enough when I get him out of his crib in the mornings, I SWEAR he's actually calling me Mrs. Krabappel. He did look at me and say Mom once this past weekend- the first time he's actually used the word in context. I hugged him with tears in my eyes, swelled with pride, and offered to buy him a car.

After having taken such a long bloggy vacation, I'm feeling list deprived, so I'm going to sign off with a list today. And then try and find time to work on part 2 of my tale of clumsiness. So without further Ado, I present to you:

TODDLER VOCAB 101
Critter Speak

Woof Woof : Dog, any dog, all dogs, any furry thing that might possibly resemble a dog, does not exclude squirrels, rabbits, Scooby Doo, and some fat cats

Bub Bob: Spongebob

Go!: To leave the house, any and all cars, trucks, tractors, vehicles with wheels excluding trains, and what Smoochie must do if Critter doesn't feel like dealing with his kisses

Da Dain!: The Train, must include the article the, there is never just a train, it must always be the train

Uh, Oh.... Roogaloh!: Uh-Oh, Spagetti-o's

Dye! Low! (sounds like wow with an L instead of the W): Bye! Love You!

Owttt!!: Ouch!(are you starting to notice a yelling pattern? Critter doesn't know the meaning of inside voice.) Best yelled when I'm wiping his face, his bottom, or his hands. I hope he stops yelling this at the top of his lungs before spring, or I will have to do some explaining to the neighbors.

Gay Goo: Thank You (he says this often, I eat it up for its uncharacteristic non ornery-ness)

Ki-Ki/Gi-Gi: I have NO CLUE. I can't seem to figure it out. I've determined it's NOT blanky, binky, kitty, or any other ends in y word I can think of. If anyone has any suggestions, I would be most appreciative.

And since Critter has just just begun running through the house with his hands in the air, yelling, "THE TRAIN??", I can only assume he is looking for one of his many trains and I must go help him find it now. Next Up, my tale of clumsiness, part 2.

Oh Crap, That's Going To Hurt (Part #1)

A Three Part Tale Of Epic Clumsiness
Part #1

Last Wednesday night, I heeded the warnings of my local weather.com page and prepared for a layer of ice to blanket the land. In preparation I had shopped for our food before the onslaught of the freezing rain, ran any and all errands that would be needed for the following couple of days, and upon completion pulled the wipers up off my windshield to avoid not being able to scrape off the ice when the time came. However, even though I prepared ahead for the ice, I am still a great procrastinator at heart.

I must confess that I was not nearly as prepared when it came to toting my garbage to the curb for the pick up on Thursday morning. I, truly, am a procrastinator to the core. It has not been unknown for me to wake up at 5am on the day a 10 page paper is due and spit one out in its entirety from start to finish. And my inner mind mechanisms treat the toting of garbage in much the same way as it would a term paper- I don't really WANT to do it, so I put it off until the unavoidable moment when it's do or die- sink or swim in a sea of black garbage bags. For me, that moment is each Thursday morning at about 7am because the Garbage man shows up at my curb shortly before 8 each week.

True to form, I woke up last Thursday morning in a rush to get the garbage out. And upon opening my kitchen door, I encountered the ice.

Ice, while it can be devastating, is truly beautiful when it coats the world outside. Trees glisten and creak under its weight, snow sparkles like a vampire should never, and our fence becomes a glistening fortress. This is the exact form of beauty that accosted me as I opened my kitchen door coffee-less, bleary eyed and rushed, last Thursday morning.

I suspect that if you know me, or have read a great deal of my blog, your gears are at least spinning if your mental light bulb isn't going off like a strobe by now. Anyone who's known me for a lifetime, or a few years, or a couple of months, or a day or so, or perhaps encountered me in a grocery store, or even so much as glimpsed me from inside a jewelry store, will be able to tell you without a nanosecond of hesitation that Chas plus a glacier of ice can not ever equal anything graceful. Highly entertaining perhaps, but never graceful.

I approached the ice with this fact fully on my mind. I carefully slid my way to the garage, and began toting garbage bags to the curb. Well, technically it was more like skating- my driveway was a giant sheet of ice and it slopes down toward the street. Not only did I have the skating rink of a driveway to maneuver through, I had gravity working against me as well. Have I mentioned that I was already being extra careful? Well, I was as careful as I could be, toting 3 bags of garbage so I would only have to conquer the driveway twice.

And I made it, too. I toted those three puffy black bags of garbage to the curb like a slightly tired gazelle. Congratulating myself on my lack of broken bones, I placed my hands behind my back and headed back up the glacial incline speed skater style. And feeling quite cocky and graceful I began the trip back down to the curb.

As I reached the sidewalk and turned from the driveway ice to the sidewalk ice, I felt my whole world begin to slip out of balance. My feet magically (and yes I say magically because by that point I had forgotten that it could actually happen) lost all traction. Did I mention that I hadn't had coffee yet? My first foot hit the sidewalk ice, lost traction, and slung its self magically up into the air about head high. My other foot, being attached to the very same body that was attached to the first foot, followed suit. Before I could blink I was staring at both feet, hovering quite horizontally a couple of feet in mid air.

I think at this moment I will take a few sentences to share what one's mind actually thinks when one finds themselves a horizontal ice queen. Now mind you, it happened quite quickly, but I had time to fully think, Oh crap, no traction! Crap, no traction for that foot either! Oh, hi feet, so that's what you look like... Feet? I can see my feet? Uh-oh, crappity crap crap crap!! THIS. Is going to hurt...

And that is exactly what flew through my head on my way down to the ice encrusted Earth. Somehow, I managed to land on a bag of garbage though, feeling grateful at hearing the 'poof' sound it made when I squished the air out of it. Giving thanks for my blanket of garbage, I assessed the damage. I discovered that due to my strategic landing upon a pile of garbage, I was quite fine. Feeling relieved, I looked up.

And that was when I noticed the garbage truck across the street, with the driver inside staring at me...

Dear So and So: New Year/Weight Loss & Candy Edition

It's been quite some time since I participated in Kat's Dear So and So on Fridays, and I thought today was as good a time as any to start up again- since I actually have something to say for a change.


Dear Self,

You fool NO ONE at the check out line when you nonchalantly tell the clerk she can just throw the King Size Reeses Big Cup in the bag. She knows full well the second you're in your car you're rampaging through that bag like an 8 year old with a Christmas present and stuffing it in like a 13 year old girl with an A cup and a box of Kleenex.

Love,
Your subconscious


Dear Hips,

This letter is to notify you that you are officially being placed on notice. You have a short time left to vacate the premises. Please be prepared to vacate in the immediate future, and leave your dwelling in a state of good repair. You will be penalized and fined for any stretch mark vandalization. And pick up all your Big Cup wrappers for crying out loud!! Consider yourself warned.

Thank you,
Building Maint. Dept.


Dear Arms,

Seriously? You have to be THAT FLABBY? I saw you the other day and you gave me distinct Homer Simpson vibes. I highly recommend you try and lift something heavier than a coffee cup and an almost two year old for a little while.

With Sincerity,
The Bathroom Mirror


Dear Self (again)

You know you can do this. You were actually successful in your attempts last year and managed to ring in the new year 40 pounds lighter. Keep going, don't get discouraged, and keep your chin up. You will get there, especially now that your hips and arms have been placed on notice. But for crying out loud, try and stay away from the Peanut Butter Eggs that accosted you in the Check Out line Wednesday Afternoon. (Um, WHAT MONTH is Easter in this year?) And the Big Cups. And the Twix. -- Hey, I'll tell you what-- would a shock bracelet at the checkout line help? Willpower, girl, willpower. Just stick with it.

Love,
The Soon to be New You.


Dear Nestle Crunch Hotline,

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the fit of giggles you gave me this morning. Without giving it away, I will only tell you to call this number: 800-295-0051. If it's busy, keep trying- trust me it's worth the giggle. When asked to continue in English or Spanish, just stay completely silent for 10 seconds and listen- you will smile. Keep going and press 4, then listen to the options and press 7. Try not to giggle out loud, or your selection will be made for you- I had to attempt 3 times before I made it all the way to 7. Anyway, Nestle, thank you- you finally made my day without lingering on my hips!

Always Love a Good Giggle,
Chas

Back With a List

I've caught some sort of goop that's left me miserably croupy, and cold meds make me completely loopy. And as I drift in and out of consciousness on my couch, I am daydreaming of a day in which I could just stay in bed and sleep. Unfortunately, with a not quite two year old running rampant in the house, that is a luxury I do not have. So today's post is dedicated to reasons why mothers should be allowed sick days, or reasons why one should not blog while hopped up on cold meds, whichever more suits the bill. So without further ado, I leave you with the top ten things (Letterman style) my boys love to do when I am sick.

10. Trash the house. This should be a given, but there are those out there who are not yet parents and therefore not fully aware of a young child's 'parent is in the next room and too stupefied to move so lets massage grape jelly into the kitchen floor' philosophy.

9. Pull pillows out from under my head while I lay in surrender on the couch.

8. Host Scooby Doo Marathon days. Mom doesn't have the energy left to protest the multiple hours worth of consecutive Scooby Doo Dvd's that have been popped in her 5 disk DVD changer. And SOMEBODY (cough cough SMOOCHIE) knows it.

7. Interpret half hearted grunts as the answer yes to questions like, "Mom, can I have MORE CANDY?"

6. Chase each other around the house wearing nothing but underoos and diapers making monkey noises.

5. Giggle in a sadistic way while trying to see how high the rotini spaghetti needs to go into the air before making an audible splat on the floor- in the name of science, of course.

4. Take up target practice by aiming the newly issued Christmas nerf dart gun at the unwashed dishes sitting on the kitchen counter instead of windows and doors.

3. Be grateful mom takes on the 'just don't aim it at your brother's forehead' approach to her day.

2. Attempt to hang dirty socks from the Christmas tree.

1. Remove all jammies from the jammie drawer, spread them in a fine layer across the hardwood floor, then take a running belly flopping leap, slip and slide style. Implement a point system and see who can achieve the most air with the least amount of injuries.

Update

Some day I will be able to sit and write out the complete story of this time in my life. Some day I will be able to sit on the other side looking back and see things in a larger perspective. Some day I will have picked up the pieces of myself that are scattered across the recent months and fit something back together that closely resembles who I am and the path I am meant to be on. Someday I will recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror.

But for now, although I can't piece together the bigger picture, I can see enough of it to know I'm caught up in a massive whirlwind of hurt, emotion, and loss. And both my head and heart know that I have fully stepped into one of the darkest and most confusing periods of my life.

I've been avoiding my blog for a while now, I'm hopelessly behind on reading the blogs I used to take such pleasure in reading. I recognize within myself some changes. I am and always will be an optimist. I will always strive to see the good in life. I will always seek the joy and the laughter. These things I know without doubt. What I didn't expect, though, was that I would ever have such difficulty seeing these things before me. Laughter doesn't arrive to my ears as easily as it did a few months ago- at least mine doesn't. The joy is still there, I just have to search harder.

It's not my intent to have a little pity party for myself, I am trying to share what is in my heart without stepping over boundaries and sharing more than I am able to. The end of any marriage is, of course, a sad event. But little by little I am discovering as each day passes that it is nothing shy of devastating. No matter who is at fault, no matter what things have expired, the end of a marriage isn't pretty. And I guess I figure if it wasn't painful then I probably shouldn't have been married in the first place.

I have made my recent focus on just simply making it through the holidays. After I've made it through this difficult time, I will reassess and adjust my goals. The Holidays for me have always had strong ties with family and tradition and great joy. This year has been something entirely new for me, so I feel myself tripping in the dark a little bit. Eventually I'll be able to discover the light switch- I'm just going to have to stumble across the room first. And in a way, I am breathing a sigh of relief that they are almost here and will be over soon.

I'm working on a post regarding New Years Resolutions, but I will say that one of mine for the new year will be to blog on a little bit more regular basis. The past few months have left me searching for the words to express myself, and I'm beginning to think there's no way past that other than to just do it. And in honor of my always look on the bright side of life philosophy, this will be the first holiday season in recorded memory when I will leave it weighing considerably less than I entered. And by holiday season I mean from the moment Reeses ships out its first shipment of Peanut Butter Pumpkins to the time one wakes up bloated and hung over on New Years Day after the cramming of non-diet allowed food and drink. And truly, that is a beautiful thing.