Subtle Glow

When I seriously question my decision to be a parent. I often wonder, is it because of all the things I want to do and either choose not to or can’t do, or is it just the messages I get from the world around me that make me think I’m not doing what I want to be doing - parentally speaking.

Because, usually, I have enough to worry about that I tend to take my parenting foibles and pass them off as “do what I can - can’t help the rest!” because there is only so much stomach acid one can produce in response to all that there is to worry and fret about from day to day.

I think it may just be the fact that some of the usual stress has been remedied, and a bit more where that came from will be taken care of in the next few weeks. Which, by my calculations, frees up a bit of time for worry/shame/guilt about something ELSE! wheeee!

So the parenting thing. That’s what I seem to have chosen as my next contestant for a real! live! ulcer!

Most recently, I’ve realized that the kiddo (or Kadoo as I like to call him) has been to the nurse’s office four times since school started. FOUR! You might not know this but school started less than two weeks ago.

Ok, is Kadoo sickly? No. Not really. He’s actually pretty healthy. In fact only one trip to the nurse was because he was sick. Make that two - although they happened on the same day. So that’s not TOO bad. The other two times were random: once for an accident, and once because his eye was bothering him.

What is all that really all about? I am starting to think he’s having a tough time adjusting to the new school. Which is where the guilt comes in. I was the one who decided we needed to move (well, but really - we did). I was the one who let him finish the school year at his old school - I thought the transition would be easier if it was at the beginning of the school year. Turns out - nah! Changing schools kinda sucks no matter when you do it.

If I were sure he would adjust in time I guess there wouldn’t be so much guilt on my part. Judging from the amount of guilt I’m wallowing in, I don’t really see him adjusting any time soon. Maybe I’m spoiled - he went off to kindergarten with a wave and a song. First grade was the same.

If I had any idea of how to help him, maybe THAT would alleviate the guilt. But when you refer to the prior paragraph you see I am at a loss in this area.

You know what I’ve noticed goes really well with guilt? FEAR.

What if he is really nto going to adjust and settle in?
What if he is already being picked on for being the new kid?
What if this causes a lifelong hatred of school, with bad grades and dropping out and The Life of a Degenerate ahead of him?
What if his attitude at home is a reflection of the turmoil he’s in regarding school?
What if I am too stupid to notice that he’s really struggling?
What if he needs a psychiatrist and I’m too oblivious to know it?
What if that means years from now we’ll all find out that all the trouble was really all my fault?

Oh.

So THAT’S what it’s all about.

*sigh*

Again, seriously questioning the decision to be a parent. I’m obviously not qualified, and too selfish to be genuinely concerned for the child. Because even when I think it’s all about him - seems to be deep down: all about me. How did someone so selfish end up here?

Yes. Yes I did.

I just flipped my hair so hard that my dangly earring flew up and whacked my glasses. I’m lucky I didn’t lose the bead on that sucker.

Since when am I a hair-flipper? and of such force? I’m growing my hair out, so I suppose that has something to do with it.

Ok well to take your mind off of this puzzling puzzle of me and my hair and the flipping and all, how about a few link-gems I found? THIS is why I don’t get to bed on time… I’m diligently tracking down entertaining and/or thought-provoking and sometimes just plain waste-of-time links for you, dear readers (or, not - as there ARE no readers to this super secret anonymous blog). Anyhow.

Links!

A old favorite of mine.

Poke the Penguin

I’ve never seen one so big before!

Stupid Bush - too bad this one is not audible… THAT would be hilarious!

Have fun!

This morning I woke up, groggy, nauseous, and in general felt like hell. Went through my normal morning routine and even got to work a few minutes early - though I still felt awful.

I don’t know why, but it just stuns me to notice that I feel like a completely different person after a bunch of coffee. Different in a totally fantastic, I can’t believe it’s not awful, I fucking love coffee kind of way.

A dulce de leche Luna bar.

I am not impressed.

Here’s a little something to lighten things up:

awwwwwwww

Take a look around you - your neighborhood, your city, your state, your country. Now define each of those in terms of your government.

Are you living in a fascist nation?

Was your answer no? Think for a minute…

Think the answer is still “No”?

THINK AGAIN.

I just have to point this out. Because it’s totally weird.

You know how Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck are married and having a kid and everything?

Ok, so back when she was married to whats-his-name-stick-in-the-mud I remember telling a group of girlfriends how I just thought she was so sweet - I’d like to see her end up with someone nice - like Ben Affleck.

Of course, *sigh* - that was back before the whole Jennifer Lopez crap (what the fuck, Ben??) and after that I was pretty much all “eh” on the whole idea of Ben Affleck.

Seriously though, of all the random matchups how weird that I pegged those TWO and now they are having a baby and married and everything.

I almost feel bad for her.

Sorry Jen!

Tell me why I only tend to post here after a glass or three of wine? What am I so afraid of? Why the inhibitions without the vino?

Despite that - this post is basically a blogging cop-out, aka “The Weekend Rundown.” But damn it was a good weekend. If it weren’t for all the typos in my typing… shit.

Friday night one of my girls was here from south county. We usually tear the night apart what with the wine and the laughing. Instead we chose hole-in-the-wall mexican food for dinner, followed by a trip to the sex-toy shop (where she found a couple things to try, and I lamented the lack of a juicer. Or, at the very least a juicer knock-off), but none were to be had and after that we finally made it home for the wine and chatting. By then I was toast, so unbelievably tired, as was she.

Saturday was a bit of shopping, much loafing and domestic bliss (eh-heh) and then an evening with a man. I almost dare to say “my man” but we’re not there. We’re so not there I won’t even say we’re not there “yet”. He’s a good man, who may or may not think otherwise, but in any case I think it would be crossing the line to say he was “mine”.

Sunday was more shopping, and the most… how do I describe it… interesting barbecue I’ve ever been to. Perhaps I am accustomed to a specific type of barbecue - one involving many items for dipping - crudites, chips and salsa, even bread and dip, along with several drink choices - wine, sodas, margaritas, whatever.

I found myself witness to a woman standing over the bowl of guacamole. She had a fork, and I saw the fork disappear in her mouth. And I was thinking, THERE HAD BETTER NOT BE ANY DOUBLE DIPPING. And lo, for there was no double dipping, because there was in fact not even triple dipping, and I shit you not when I tell you THERE WAS NO LESS THAN QUINTUPLE DIPPING happening there.

What’s more, she left the fork IN THE BOWL when she was through. After deciding (of course) that she did not wish to serve any for herself onto her own goddamn plate.

Pointless to mention, as it may well be all too obvious, but I skipped the guacamole. As well as any other communal dish, because what the fuck - I didn’t know any of the mannerless motherfuckers.

I actually grabbed the wrist of a man armed with a single chip as he made his way into the bowl of hummus, telling him - “But Oh! Here are the plates! Let’s serve you some of this on your own plate!!” By then I had had enough. Because I don’t even fucking LIKE hummus but for the love of barbecues and common fucking decency with respect to sharing dishes - GET A FUCKING PLATE, PEOPLE!!

I don’t know how soon after that, but someone left their plate of salmon unattended while they took the plate full of the rest of the salmon to pass on, when some woman came over and HELPED HERSELF TO HIS PLATE OF FISH! The same salmon that we had been waiting patiently to finish grilling so we could have a bit. He finally had a small portion and went to pass it to the other tables. And then some fucking idiot comes and helps herself to it. Upon hearing “HEY! That is NOT THE SALMON PLATE! It is someone’s dinner!” she frowned and pushed the claimed portion BACK ONTO HIS PLATE!!

Oh it was a topsy turvy kind of what the fuck?! from that point on. We ventured on, leaving the party and the Wonderland-esque guests.

At which point another friend determined that we simply MUST go to the sex toy shop! Right now! and we must buy al sorts of sundry things that we should use on our own respective men that very night. I wasn’t too into it, having already been ONCE that weekend, which would have been twice as many times as I had been in my whole life. So, yeah.

Alas, the shop was closed, having the sense to go home and lock the doors before one slightly buzzed and another somewhat boggled patron could invade in search for a bit of NORMALCY in their day.

But all was not lost, for the morning’s shopping excursion yielded two pairs of absolutely ass-tastic jeans for me. No, seriously, try hovering between a 12 and a 14 and finding a pair of jeans that make your ass look so good they only need a pat of butter to melt on top! They are simply THAT good. Really! Just ask my “not-boyfriend.”

You know what’s really great, though? When you had a great shopping weekend (because they are not all great, let me tell you) and then you finding that you are not the only one winning at shopping this weekend. In fact, I did not know it but it was one of those “if you shop, it will be good” weekends but as luck would have it: I was shopping!! and it was good!!

So, to recap: I love my jeans (if nothing else), and I have two pair.

I had a longish day today - by the time I got close to home I hadn’t eaten in several hours. I was hungry, tired of being in the car, cranky, tired in general, and I almost came home and heated up some leftovers. But, two blocks before I got home, I decided: What the hell? I’ll just stop in here and pick up some takeout.

I don’t usually eat chinese food, but for whatever insanity-based reason that’s what I chose tonight. What’s even more nutty - I got it from Pick-up Stix, which I rank as the most vile excuse for Chinese food - EVER. And hurrah! Surprisingly - even considering how hungry I was - I did not think it was very good food, at all.

I picked up The Boy because the last time he spent five days in a row at his dad’s, he returned a sad, weepy lump of tears because he had missed me so much. He fell asleep twenty minutes after we got home.

And - it’s not even Friday yet. Damn.

Ok, so I figured out how to make a page. I even stuck a pic up on that shit. hehe. Click the link in the header for “photos”