balls

i've got them. you know how when someone is gutsy we say "they've got balls?" or "that's ballsy?" well i'm gutsy. so i guess i've got balls...ballsy. but a few years ago my friend and i were discussing the sexism inherent is saying someone, particularly a woman someone, has got balls. why do we say that? like women are not strong, gutsy, bold, brave? so we brainstormed. a way to capture the gutsy and give the gutsy a female part association. because plenty of females are gutsy. and damnit we should have our own parts as a part of the gutsy. instead of needing male parts to indicate the gutsy. you know? so we came up with ovaries. but "they've got ovaries" didn't seem quite right. so we shortened it to "O's." "they've got O's." nice ring, no? so ever since, i've thought i had O's. then today happened. my precious R, tugged at the neckline of my shirt, and took a look down. she has done this before. she has also tugged at the waistline of my pants, to look at my bootie. and we know how that turned out. but today her glance down my shirt lingered. so i said "that's mommy's body?" as though i wasn't sure. but we have discussed this many times before. "balls," she said. so apparently i've got O's and balls. thankyouverymuch.

oh patsy

sometimes my kids really tick me off. i'm not talking about when they whine. or throw their food. or run like hell in the other direction when i call their names. i mean who has delinquent children who behave in such a manner anyway? (not it). what i'm talking about here is probably something i need to take to a shrink. but i have neither the time nor the desire for a shrink. so my cute little blog community is the beneficiary. you. are. welcome. C and R mess with my stuff. well, it's their stuff. but it's their stuff that i've been working on. for example. i just picked up all 26 of those puzzle pieces and put them back into the appropriate places on the puzzle. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WATCHED ME PUT IT BACK TOGETHER AND NOW WANT TO DEMOLISH IT? for example. i just spent 9 seconds building the most stunning building ever to be built with cardboard tri-color blocks. i know. i've seen a lot of them. mine is very avant garde. i'm the frank lloyd wright of my time. hello kitty cannot believe her great fortune getting to live in this pad. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WATCHED ME BUILD IT AND NOW MUST DESTRUCT SAID BUILDING? for example. i just carefully aligned 16 books front-facing on the shelves (very montessori). WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FEEL COMPELLED TO RIP THEM FROM THEIR SHELVES AND JUMP ON THEM AND EAT THEM AND THEN VOMIT THEM UP AND RUB MY FACE IN THE VOMIT? ok. made that last part up. but only the last last part. but seriously. it's rude isn't it (them)? it's obsessive compulsive isn't it (me)? (do you hear patsy cline right now? or is it just me?) i know. i know. i like things to be tidy. and is it wrong to be proud of my handiwork? without nina-garcia-like critics coming in and trashing my accomplishments? "i just don't even have anything to say." shut up nina. you know you have something to say. and you know you'll squash some poor designer wannabe like R and C squash their poor mommy wannabe.

these structures only breathed life for 0 - 3 seconds. sniff.

(in case you're wondering...bribed the kids with "baby signing time" so i could photograph.

cra zy. crazy for feeling so lonely...).

hello kitty. off to build her own damn house.

i heart you, fall

but it's like an unrequited love. or like my celebrity crush on lenny kravitz. for i will never have you, lenny, i mean fall. i mean both. neither. neither lenny nor fall. where i live we only have one season: hot. it goes from hot to slightly less hot and back to hot then right on over to Godforsaken pits of hell hot. we're wrapping up the hell hot now. or are we? that's what we tell ourselves. it's september. it will be cooler. will not! it's not cooler! it's only slightlylessGodforsakenpitsofhell hot. we just tell ourselves "fall" will be better to get us through the place where grendel lives (i once made a diorama. not diarrhea. of grendel from beowulf. it. was. awesome.). ok right. why do i love the illusion of fall so much? other than a delusional fantasy of some level of coolness. my birthday. yes, still exciting. even though i am only slightly upstaged nowadays by two beautiful creatures who landed here two days after my day. speaking of the delights. oh yes. that's something to look forward to. way forward. celebrate good times come on (hmm. not the first time i've used that i'm afraid). the idea of fall makes me want to cook butternut squash. eat gingerbread pancakes. eat candy corn even though i don't like it. i always think i like it. but i don't. make s'mores over an open flame. random question: does apple-bobbing, bobbing for apples, still occur? what a heinous and germ-ridden activity. i once wanted to bob for apples. i was in 2nd grade. my mom said no. when she wasn't looking i did it. know what? it was icky. can you think of anything worse, during flu season especially, than opening your mouth and oozing saliva into an open bucket of water and other peoples' oozed saliva and apples? gross. which reminds me. let us not forget halloween. picking costumes for the little pumpkins. oh the pumpkins! pumpkins are good. even if your pumpkin melts (literally) if you leave it out for one. freaking. night. with. no. candle. whew. i sound whiny. and i really do love the fake fall. and here's why: i've already talked about the back to school loves. and i. cannot. wait. to put R in some leg warmers. though that is def more winter (two maybe three days).

let me boil down my love of fake fall, some based on reality, some illusion and delusionness (made up).

i have an unrealistic love of coats. love them. i can wear them for maybe ten days a year. and two of those days i will be sweating. oh the CPW (cost per wear) on the coats. it hurts. but i can't resist. are you looking at these coats? dreamy. apparently i'm in a ruffle phase.

boots. also unrealistic love. though i'll squeeze out more wears on boots than on coats.

those bastards at pottery barn make me want to host a seven course meal with delightful pumpkin-colored chairs (do you have to get new chairs per season?) and cloth napkins and beautiful flowers and candles and apple name cards and wait. what exactly would R and C do at this table? and when i say "at" i mean "to." what would R and C do to this table? let's move on.

i want a cold cloudy morning with nothing to do but hunker down and snuggle into my cold cloudy bed. open the windows to get that cold air smell. i will only pop out to eat tomato soup and grilled cheese and later drink hot chocolate (the real stuff). um can you believe the peace in this picture? i see cold cloudy peace.

the prospect of fall also makes me feel compelled to decorate with images like this one. paintings. pillows. dishtowels. i do have a strange fascination with trees. preferably bare trees. someone psychoanalyze me. and don't say my tree doesn't bare fruit. au contraire mon frere. two fruities would beg to differ. thankyouverymuch.



i'm ready for dark nail polish. it just seems wrong in june. you know?

oh the quest to pull off jet black hair with pale skin. damn you angelina jolie.



so i will now vow to not dress my sweet sweeties in fleece halloween costumes with plastic masks and wool hats. no mittens on thanksgiving. no earmuffs on Christmas. no faking the funk.

i still heart you fake fall.

dear mom

dear mom,

i love you. i love your passion. i love your fire. i see it in R everyday. and, especially when reminded, i see it in me too. i love that you are a fighter. of course, you had no choice. you were dealt a hand early on that forced you to fight. and fight you did. you always taught me to fight. but to be kind. you taught me to give my best to everything i did. and when i was the best, to be humble. you taught me a love of nature. and nurture. you taught me to give. and that there is no better feeling in the world than being thoughtful. and giving thoughtfully. you showed me how to take care of people. especially those that could not take care of themselves. you taught me to treat all people well. and not burn bridges. you taught me to be careful. though i never really was. you taught me about commitment. and loyalty. and perseverance. you taught me how to be part of a team. a family. and that family was most important.

so when we disagree about politics i can see why you might feel disappointed, though you've never exactly said that. it must be perplexing. you raised me. you taught me. we have so many similar beliefs and values. and now that i am older. so many different ones. i think about it when i think about C and R. what if they grow up to think so differently than me? i know we'll have conversations that take me back to you. and how you must feel.

right now i am just ready for political season to be over. i am tired. which is not like me at all. or you. even when you get tired, you are still strong. i love your tenacity. i love your confidence in your beliefs. i love your sassiness which you had way before that level of sassiness was acceptable. i love your fight the power mentality. which conflicts every so often with your respect the power mentality. i love your kill them with kindness nature. which conflicts every so often with your if someone hits you, hit them back harder side.

people tell me i'm strong. i know that i am. because of you. so i don't get upset when we disagree about issues. i wouldn't want you to back down. you are passionate. and i am so glad. because i feel grateful to be passionate too. and i know exactly where it comes from.

love you,

betty

sass. wonder where she gets it.

what's a few bites?

one day last week C got bitten by a human at MDO. one day last week R got bitten by 10 mosquitos at MDO (or 1 mosquito bit her 10 times. or 5 mosquitos bit her 2 times each. you get the idea). all this biting. what is all this biting? C recovered quickly. didn't even cry. R didn't cry either but is recovering with hives. ew. at home there are no bites. no hives. two freaking days out of my hair, er home, and bites and hives! what have i done? it's not all bad though. at home i have never made paper bag puppets with cute noses and little eyes. it's hard to describe...there are so many things you look forward to. the standards: smiling, laughing, crawling, walking. things that you look forward to but when they happen they are better than you even expected. i have never been more excited than for the first school art. i mean i loved the smiling, laughing, crawling, walking business too. but oh the art. and it's better than i expected. we have done some crafty things at home. play dough. crayons. but i was so excited for the first school art that i superdorked and had the display area ready and waiting for magneted art. in a prominent area of our kitchen. in a place where the dog won't eat it. hopefully. and so last week when i picked C and R up and received two precious paper bag puppets, i had so much pride. we hung them up immediately. is it wrong to be ok with human and insect bites on my children's bodies as long as they are accompanied by outstanding school art?

i say...worth it.

i heart school

new clothes. new supplies. new shoes. the cutest new lunchboxes with the cutest new coordinated bento boxes. is there anything better? why yes, there is. what's better is providing all of the previously mentioned mentionables to your two children and scooting them into their new classroom while you drive an empty stroller back to the parking garage. whoa. this is light. "you can leave that here." dumbass. of course i can leave the stroller here. there are no kids in it. what am i doing pushing an empty stroller? it's doubly empty. park. and. i'm. off...but off to where, i wonder? i decided to helicopter parent like the best of them and stick close to the school in case i got that pleasedon'tringphone phone call telling me that R and C hate school and they want to drop out. they're never going back. it's straight to cosmetology school (i am in the market for a new hairdresser). no call today. no tears either. no dancing yet, but there's plenty of time for that. so here's what i did for my (er, their) first day of school:

*volunteer work delivery. put my car in a loading zone (legally) and made a jaunt.

*pharmacy. i went in. no drive-thru necessary. popped in. popped out. done and done.

*car wash. do-it-yourself car wash. thankyouverymuch. i'm counting this as exercise bytheway. there are some arm lifts. swift movements. broke a sweat (it's hot).

*whole foods. i drank hot. i said hot. coffee. while sitting. down. what? seriously. i even read the acknowledgements of my dissertation. where THERE IS A TYPO IN THE FIRST SENTENCE. i am now sharing my most embarrassing fact of life with you, at this moment, here on this blog. i have a typo on the very first line of my dissertation. and they still gave me the degree. suckers.

*parking garage of school. hey, it was shady and cool. and sat in peace and had a lovely cellular telephone conversation with an old friend who i have been trying to talk to for 2 months of phone tag and when will i ever have time to talk to her? so nice.

for my next day of school i will be going to lunch with a friend to celebrate said friend's birthday. lunch during the week. in a restaurant. with no high chairs. i might throw my own food on the floor just to be wacky.

kind of makes you want to go back to school, no?