Friday, January 9, 2009
I don't have a lot of time today so I am going to leave you with a quick story.
I am making a real effort to be a better disciplinarian. As you know Dylan is a hard nut to crack. He's cute, charming, and quick tongued as a millionaire conman.
Last night Dylan is on the computer and it is time to go to bed. I have warned him at the half and hour mark, the fifteen and even the five minute mark. Then I tell him that he has to get off and get ready for bed. He whines, he complains, he begs for 10 more minutes, just ten more minutes and he'll get off. He promises, he pleads.
This is very hard for me. I look into those hazel pools of love and muster up all of my strength to stand firm and say no. We go through this cycle a few more times and I stand my ground. I am not giving in to guilt and I am not being manipulated by his over the top theatrics. I say no for the last time. Then my beloved son gets up from the computer desk looks me right in the eye and says:
"Man, I can't even trick you anymore, that's so unfair!"
Thursday, January 8, 2009
I am reading the Twilight series. In fact my 13 year old baby sitter is reading it too. When she came over Tuesday night to babysit she squealed with delight seeing the second book of the series "New Moon" sitting on my kitchen table. For those of you who don't know Twilight is a book series about a girl named Bella and her love Edward the vampire. Exciting adventures with a group of hip cool vampires. Yes, a romantic teenage vampire book, but not just any teenage vampire book. These books feature Edward. Dreamy Edward, voted People magazine's sexiest vampire alive or in his case dead. Not really, but he seems to be the perfect combination of the best parts of Brad Pitt, George Clooney, and Antonio Banderas rolled into one intoxicating sweet smelling dream boy. Edward also has the heart of Romeo, the coolness of Casanova, and the sexy dangeous charm of count Dracula. The romance of Edward and Bella has teenage girls going out of their minds
I first heard about the books from a friend about 6 months ago. Then more recently I heard on the news that teenage girls were sleeping in the streets in front of movie theaters all over America waiting to buy the first tickets to the Twilight movie. Good lord. What is wrong with these dimwitted girls. I thought when I saw the story.
Fast forward a few weeks and I am reading book two of the series. I read book one in about 36 hours over the holiday weekend. I saw that a friend had the whole series and so far she is nice enough to lend me book two. I am almost done book two. I would have finished it a long time ago if this damn family didn't keep distracting me. Clean this, cook that. Who am I Cinder-friggin'-ella? How can I think of anything so mundane as my life when Edward is sweeping Bella off of her feet? Saving her life and sacrificing his own happiness to protect her. Because she is his life, his only reason for living is to love her.
SNAP OUT OF IT LYDIA! Wake UP! Oh my, these books suck you in. The romantic fantasy of it all. The syrupy, lusty, dramatic crap of this fairy tale makes me drunk with desire. My husband has reaped many benefits from this amorous read. But, seriously as wonderfully fun as they are to read these books are full of crap.
In book one Edward wants to be right next to Bella at all times. He watches her sleep he drives her to and from school and waits for her outside of her classes. Isn't that called stalking? What about watching people sleep? If I ever woke up to see Dave watching my sleep. Then he tells me that he does this every night? I'll be honest I'd find that very alarming. Or if he wanted to follow me around 24-7? I love my husband with all of my heart, but , I'd tell him that he needs to leave me alone and go out and get a hobby or something. Give me some room to breath. Perhaps I need to pass some gas, or pluck my chin hairs. I don't need the man I love to share in all areas of my daily life. You know? too much of a good thing could lead right in to a restraining order.
I do love the romantic gobble de'goop, but now that I am almost 40 and the mom of two little kids I do see romance in a whole new light. I don't want come home to my name spelled in rose petals on the bed. Who wants to clean that up? For me romance is letting me sleep late while he feeds the kids. Or the fact that he cleans off my car on snowy days. The way he always calls me beautiful and looks at me with sparkles in his eyes. The way he plays so lovingly with the kids. The fact that he never complains that I quit my job to stay home with the kids. He supports me and loves me through the flu, and PMS. This is the stuff of a real life fairy tales. Too bad that this kind of love doesn't sell books.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
I can be paranoid at times. I think way too much. But I noticed that you have been busy a lot more. I call and leave messages. I call your cell phone & send emails, but you never answer back anymore. I honestly start to wonder if you are seeing someone else? I know that we are soul mates and that we will be together forever. We have made our pact and professed our mutual love and admiration. Didn't we? Well, at least I did. But I fear that you are loosing interest. I know that I have put on weight is that it? Are you dumping me for some one slimmer? Some one who can keep up with you? Fit into your new fit life style?
I have my suspicions, then one day when you are too busy to spend time with me, I decide to take Alice to the YMCA. I walk in and almost swallow my gum when I see you, and you are not alone. You are with a tall fit brunette. You arm is around her shoulder and you are giggling. I storm over tugging Alice along for the ride. Our eyes meet and you smile and say all chipper.
"Hiya Lyds. I didn't know that you were coming her today." She says. I feign a fake smile.
"Yeah well...Hey, why are you here? Weren't you going to work early this afternoon?
"Oh, the student didn't need help after all." You smile your contagious smile at me. "Then I went to return the kids books at the the library, bumped into Jane here, and she talked me into trying the one o'clock Zumba class. But I didn't have sneakers." I look down.
"But you are wearing sneakers." I say in a snippy tone.
"She had to borrow mine." Jane chimes in and then they both giggle. You are wearing HER sneakers! You have never asked to borrow my sneakers. Yes, they would be too small for you, but at least you could have asked. Sharing smelly foot wear is so intimate! Oh my God...am I being replaced?
I try to hide my sorrow, shock. I stand there with a big plastic smile. They invite me to come along. I refuse. Then they excuse themselves because Zumba is starting and skip off together down the hall like too little peas in a big frickin pod. I stand there in a daze trying not to cry as Alice fusses and tugs at my hand. There is no denying it. Oh my God, my friend is cheating on me.
I have had boy friends cheat on me, who care as about them they are all replaceable, but a good girl friend is sacred. I share my heart and soul with my good friends. They are more like sisters, heck, I love them much more than my real sisters. I feel my eyes welling up with tears. I pick up Alice and quickly leave the Y.
Friend cheating is so hard. There is the fear that we are growing apart, the fear that my friend is tired of me, I can be exhausting! There are hundreds of reasons why my friendships is breaking up. I have a lot of faults. Believe me this friend knows them all too well. I have had other frienships break up. I know for a fact that I have lost at least one friend because Dylan was making her nuts. I avoid one friend because I realized that she only calls me when she needs a favor. I lost one friend because she had a verbally abusive husband he hated me (mutually loathing on both our parts). Losing a love is never easy for me.
Is there a good way to dump a friend? I had a college roommate who I hated. But some how years later I ended up in her wedding party! After college I would try to slowly stop calling and visiting her. Months would go by then she would call and make me feel guilty, so I would go see her. By the end of the visit I would be counting the minutes until I could go home. Then I would avoid her for another half a year. I thought that she would eventually take the hint. But no! I even tried to dump her for real, but she talked me out of it and the next weekend I was driving up to see her. She was crazy, but I must have been part to blame because we were friends for almost 7 years before I ditched her. I had to move away and change my name. So I happen to get married and move, but losing her in the process was a huge bonus.
Was my new good friend trying to lose me? Was she rubbing her new friend in my face? Thankfully no. This was just a false alarm. After a few more exclusive dates with Jane, I confronted my good friend and we talked about it. She told me not to worry about Jane. That going to Zumba together was just exercise, that it meant nothing to her. Her and Jane only hung out a few times, it was never serious. Jane would never replace a paranoid, insecure, whackadoodle friend like me.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
“Mommy?” My six-year-old son Dylan asks from the back seat. “When Bobby grew in your tummy did you have to eat carrots?” Bobby is his beloved white stuffed bunny.
“Momma eat carrot?” His little 3-year-old sister Alice repeats through her binky. I look in the rear view mirror at his beautiful angelic face looking at me with sincerity and trust.
“Sweetie, Bobby didn’t grow in mommy’s tummy, just you and Alice, remember?” Our eyes meet through our reflections.
“Oh yeah, Bobby growed in his mommy’s tummy at the toy store.” I smile as I try my best to stifle a giggle. Something’s are best left alone. I glance up again and to see the hamster wheel start to spin under his flaxen blond locks. Oh crap! Here it comes. I brace myself against the steering wheel.
“Mommy, how did we get there?” Darn it! I look away, now I feel especially bad about telling any of the usual lies parents tell, about the stork, or the cabbage patch. Why can’t our society come up with better stories? Anyways, aren’t I always reminding the kids that lying is wrong? I decide to be creative about the truth instead.
“Well sweetie, Daddy and I got married, we wanted to have babies, and a few months later, I took a test and voila! I was pregnant.” I give a quick sideways glance up at the mirror. Dylan’s forehead is furrowed in deep thought.
“A test? Like at school?" "You have to pass the test to get a baby?” He says in an incredulous tone. “That’s so stupid!
“Don’t say stupid.” I remind him.
“Stupid!” Alice yelps from her car seat.
“Mommy is that true?” I look up and see his face, a sweet trusting face. Oh double crap!
“No, yes, I mean.” I take a deep cleansing breath. Triple crap! I am not ready to have this talk. I am still recovering from the "What happened to Alice's penis?" talk, that we had at the beach this summer.
“Well, you know that boys and girls have different parts. Well, when you are married, a man and a woman use those parts to make a baby. Then the baby grows in the mommy’s tummy, to make sure she is growing a baby she goes to the doctor and takes a special test. Not like the ones at school. A blood test.“ I notice that my knuckles are white on the steering wheel. I try to relax my hands and hear laughter coming from the back seat. I look up to see Dylan doubling over in hysterics.
“Come on Momma! Don’t be so silly! Tell me the real story!” Feeling some what relived and mostly amused I let my anxiety melt into laughter. I start to laugh too. Alice joins in and we all laugh. Then Dylan stops laughing and says in a serious tone.
“Well? Momma I'm waiting.” I stare straight ahead.
“Alright.” I take a deep breath and say the first thing that pops into my head. “I bought baby seeds from Wal-Mart, and then I swallowed the whole pack with a tall glass of milk. A few weeks later I took a written test to find out if I was pregnant.”
“How come I never see baby seeds at Wal-Mart?”
“They keep them at the pharmacy; you need a prescription, from the doctor.”
“Hmmm….” I see his brow wrinkle. "What do you write on the test?"
"The reasons why you will be a good mother."
"Hmm..." His wrinkled brow slowly relaxes. “Can we go to McDonald's for lunch? They have Madagascar toys!” I sigh in relief.
“Sure.” Felling guilty and oddly satisfied I turn on a CD and the three of us sing our way towards the golden arches.
Monday, January 5, 2009
So here I am back at the YMCA. A new year, a new commitment to avoid adult onset diabetes, and get healthy. What brought on my new commitment to health was the snow. Yes, the snow. I was shoveling snow and I started to huff and puff. Then I started to feel dizzy and wet with sweat. Then sure that I was having a heart attack, a panic sent my heart thumping against my chest like a troop of cloggers. At that moment I decided that if I lived through this, that I would start going back to the gym and get back into shape.
Here I am at the YMCA, Monday morning. I am meeting a friend. She is late. She is always late, so I go up and walk on the indoor track. I walk up the stairs and am amazed by how many people are here. Then I remembered, of course, the fist school day after vacation coupled with people's New Years resolutions. Like always they'll be gone by February. God, Why am I always the hypocrite!
I walk around the busy track quickly two times. Then I bolt out of the door into the hallway horrified. Who are these speedy beauty queens, did a super model gang take over the Y? I need to pee! I return slowly from the bathroom and walk back on to the track. This is not a beauty contest, this is for me. This is about my health. Where is Heather! Having a friend here would make this a lot easier.
I walk around the track. Peering down at the gyms bellow. I see my friend she is stunningly beautiful inside and out. There is no avoiding the fact that all of my fit healthy friends are always here working out. Hmm there might be something to that? Especially this friend. She works out hard every week, that's why I can't hate her, even when she eats Big Macs and shakes during McDonald's play dates. I wave and she looks up and waves back with a big smile. She is so nice!
I walk around once and see a gaggle of girls in a spinning class. I wave at one of Dylan's preschool moms. She looks right through me. Has it been that long since I have showed my face here? Have people forgotten who I am? I walk around again. I approach two girls that are in the same shape as me. I wish that we were friends so that we could walk together fat-girl-solidarity. Strength in numbers. I look at there out of shape giggling bodies trying not to think bad thoughts. How can I of all people judge them. I shake my head in shame and pass them on the right.
I pass them and when I am a few strides ahead I hear them break out in giggles and talk in low hushed voices. No doubt they are mocking the view of my backside. Which can not be pretty. But, why are we all so hard on each other? I look ahead am quickly passed on both sides by running skinny girls. They are like ponytail, ipod wearing gazelles. I admire their strides. I have a 27 inch inseam. Forget petite, I need to order my pants in dwarf sizes. My stride is pitiful.
I walk a little faster, I hear foot steps rapidly approaching me. I turn my head to see a couple of golden girls zip past me. I look at their backs, their gray hair bouncing as they walk. I start to wonder when Heather is coming. I am then passed by a woman wearing full make-up, and holding a coffee in one hand and talking with her cellphone in the other. I speed up again trying keep up. I start to feel a pain in my lower abdomen. I quickly press my tongue against the roof of my mouth. I hold it there for a half a lap. Nothing happens. Then I remember that the tongue on the roof of the mouth is for stopping brain freeze. I slow down and manage to pass a tall fit beautiful girl. I feel so victorious. Then she quickly breaks into a fast run...Oh man!
I check the clock on the the next lap. I must be almost done my hour by now. The clock reads 10:15. 10:15! I have only been walking 15 minutes. Where is Heather! My side really hurts and I am the slowest walker on this darn track. I am feeling pretty low when I see a ray of hope. Toddlers! I see toddlers from the day care center down stairs being led onto the track by two teacher. Finally a group I can pass...at least I hope. I walk quickly and easily pass the small group. The kids come up to my thigh and seem to be not a day over two years old, perhaps 18 months. I quickly walk around and smile as I start to pas them again. I am a sick woman! Then an older man limps with his cane on to the track. He is barely moving. I quickly pass him and am starting to feel better about myself. I also realize that I need to walk every day if I am going to get my heath back. Perhaps in a few weeks I'll be able to pass a group of three or four year olds.
I decide 20 minutes is enough for the first day. I am out of breath and my side aches, but baby steps. I remind myself. I am in theory walking for my life. If I don't want to end up with full blown diabetes, or end up walking with a walker, or having to weigh myself on an industrial scale I have to start taking care of me.
Until then I'll see you at the YMCA. If I ever see Heather I'll tell her that you said hi.