Friday, February 27, 2009
Dylan has a best friend a boy who is in his class. I see the kid from time to time at school functions. He is usually at these functions with his mom. At first she seems shy. She will look over at me smile then look away. I will wave and she will nod her head and blush. Eventually after a few awkward smiling waving episodes I was completely shocked when one day during an after school Destination Imagination meeting out of the blue she asked us out on a date. She wanted to come home with us to play. I was a little nervous, I didn't know her at all and I had never had a play date with an Indian mom before, what were her expectations? I hope that she doesn't think I'm easy.
Dylan, Alice, and I went home and the mom and son followed. Once we all got into the house the kids ran off and the mom and I are sitting at the kitchen table staring at each other. To break the awkward silence I ask her a stupid question.
"Is India one of the cultures where dogs and cats are considered filthy and dirty and never kept in the house?" She smiled and nodded her head yes. We both looked at Anabel sleeping on the floor by our feet and started laughing.
"I am so sorry about the dog." I say and she giggles and says.
"No problem. I know here it is too cold for the animal to live outside, my son wants a pet. I tell him if you want pet that is great. You can buy all of the pet you want when you no longer live in my house."
We both laughed again and I knew that I liked this woman. During her visit she admitted that she had never had an American friend before and she was also not sure what to expect. She is confused by the idea of a planned play date. In India neighbors and kids just drop by and hang out. I told her that she could drop by my house anytime, I am a horrible planner! I am so unorganized that I always forget to plan play dates and on the weekends my kids are forced to play (sign-complain) with each other. I warn her that I am not a typical American mother. What goes down in my house may be seen as odd in a "normal" American house hold. For example the decorations. I have religious items from all of the major religions up around my house. I also have postcards of TV dinners, a collection of fried eggs, and vintage pocketbooks displayed in my kitchen. I also have plans to do some fun crazy painting this summer. I have always wanted a sky painted ceiling with flying pigs and angels.
By the end of the play date we made another date for the following Saturday. Our kids are best friends and by the end our our play date we are friends too. The next step is to see if our daughters are a match.
Last Saturday she came over again, we couldn't go to her house because her husband was sick with the flu. All four kids met in the kitchen and went nuts and began trashing my house, which is always a god sign. Dylan and his friend hadn't seen each other in a while since it was school vacation week and they almost simultaneously combusted with joy over their reunion. Yes, this is the play date that Dylan cracked his head and ended up in the emergency room, but were not talking about that today. The girls played nicely together they are both tough and sturdy from having older brothers, and when the girl showed up wearing a red and black argyle print shirt over purple & pink polka dot sparkle pants, with green ruffle socks and blue sneakers I knew that the girls would be friends.
As we were chit chatting at the kitchen table she admitted to me that she is in the market for a seriously family relationship. Not having any relatives in this country she is hoping that the boy's friendship and our new friendship can grow into something bigger. So far she sees a lot of potential she really like me. She thinks I'm cool. I am glad. People seem to love me or hate me, there doesn't seem to be a middle ground.
Feeling complimented by her proposition and touched by her honesty, and the fact that she thinks I'm cool, I agreed that I would like to be good family friends too. Since my kids have no "real" cousins and none coming on the near horizon. I have my one single sister, and my husband's half brother is busy being in his twenties. We are pretty lean on the family front at this point in our lives. I would love to have another family to invite over for holidays. We have close friends but we are often wishing for more people to hang out with on Holidays. In fact we made Easter plans on the spot. They of are not Christian, but they can experience my second annual Easter bunny egg hunt! I'll have to invite my Jewish friends over too! We'll have a multicultural Holiday Egg Hunt celebration. I make the kids put on bunny ears and hop around the yard looking for plastic eggs filled with treats (but not candy! Not this year).
We hug and are both happy to be on the same page. The next step is the most crucial, the husbands. Toddlers are easy they'll be friends no matter what. The boys are already best-friends. Mom's can be tricky but if given enough one on one time they find a common ground. She and I get along very well and I can see us having a lot of fun and learning a lot from each other. Dads are harder especially since one of the dads doesn't like American football, or any other sports. Usually you sit two guys in front of a game with beer & pizza then come back in two hours and they are friends. These two guys are going to be harder. They both like chess. Can you actually drink beer and have manly bonding while playing chess? We will see the meeting is Saturday at 4:00pm.
She is concerned that we are rushing into having the husband's meet. My thought is that there will be chemistry or not. The menfolk will feel a connection or they won't. We can't make it happen for them. I think we should just shove them in a room and see what happens. We do have a lot riding on this meeting. If the menfolk dislike eachother we can still be friends but the family functions are gone. The dream is dead. Our hearts, and the hearts of our son's will be broken. Oh relationships are so tricky. Maybe they should have EHarmoney or Match.com for families?
Thursday, February 26, 2009
To celebrate my 100th blog post here are a hundred words written in the form of haiku poems (okay 101 words).
Please send me help now
Two children and a small dog
Are holding me here
Til death do us part
"Honey, where is the mustard? "
That is way to long.
My kid in the cart
Left alone for two minutes
Old ladies attack!
Candy very bad
Sugar make kid basket case
Candy very gone
Is that girl homeless?
Why is she wearing those rags?
Because she wants to!
Kids! Wash your damn hands!
"I love my fat mom!"
I love my son’s honesty
At times, little jerk!
Mom's gourmet dinner
Cooking for her family
Open box and nuke
Hey, thanks for reading. Back in October 08 when I started this blog I had a hand full of readers one or two subscribers. Now I have 20 subscribers and readers from RI, CT, NY, IL, PA, VT, ME, CO, WI, KY, VA, CA, TX, UT, AZ, NJ, FL, IN, MI, NM, and other states I am too feeble minded to recall. Even other countries! Canada, Ireland, Australia, Argentina, Russia, and Israel! I am truly grateful that I amuse you enough to take time away from your busy lives to visit my site and laugh along with me. You are laughing with me right?
Hey as a 100th post celebration why don't you leave a comment and tell me who you are? You know so if I go to your state or country I'll have someone to get drunk with....just kidding.
Who are you...be brave say hello! We are all friends here.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I am not fairing any better, the candy experiment doesn't have me screaming on the floor but it does have me crying in the mirror. I have felt a difference in my feelings about candy. The candy doesn't speak to me. But knowing that there is a basket of my favorite sweets on top of the refrigerator has me talking to the basket. I find my hands itching to get in there and have a little sweet chat. I have also had a few stomach aches due to irresponsible candy consumption. For example fudge is a treat best eaten in small portions. A half a pound at a time is too much for the body to process. But on the bright side I never want to eat fudge again. A small success!
Tonight is book club and the meeting is at my house. We are all going to have an old fashioned no hold bars candy feast. Then once my house has been cleansed of the sugary evil. I will tell myself that I can eat all of the candy I want. I'll just have to go to the store and buy it. Because I am not having any in my house any more, no sir. I am also banking on the hope that if I do get into my car to go buy candy that I'll hopefully change my mind on the way.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
My beloved husband Dave and I are driving in the car we are out on a date. We are off to Worchester, a city about an hour away from our small town. We are going to see Bill Cosby perform a stand up act. The night is our oyster, whatever the heck that saying means, I have no idea, but we have all of our ducks in a row, we left the kids at home with a great baby-sitter, we left on time, and we are making good time. Red our fateful GPS system, like Rudolph's nose, is shining bright and leading us to the show.
We are driving closer to the city and I notice that Dave s getting how they get. You know how those men people get. You are having a nice time chit-chatting as you ride in the car and then they get all quiet. Then they start breaking and hitting the gas too hard and the car starts feeling more like a carnival ride. Then if they are like my husband they get so jacked up that they start missing turns, getting in right turn only lanes, and chanting this ancient caveman tribal dialect under their breath.
Sitting terrified in my seat going over in my head if the Ford Focus has passenger side air bags. I do the worst thing in the world. I try to help.
"Um honey?" I look over at his bright red face grimaced in pain.
"Mmmmm?" He grunts at me from the corner of hi mouth.
"Why don't you just follow the GPS the..."
"No." He barks at me. He is a caveman and I am an intruder from the land of sanity trying to break into his cave. "That thing is just screwing me up. Turn it off."
"But, it is telling us how to get there."
"The voice is just distracting me. Shut it off."
"Honey, come on..."
"Shut it off."
"You are being silly..."
"Shut it off!" I shut off the GPS and hope that our seats are in different areas of the theatre. I am not sitting next to this wild caveman on the bright side maybe we'll never even get to the theatre.
I mean a GPS is a machine that's only purpose is to give you directions. The machine does not have a grudge against you. The machine does not send you in the wrong direction and then laugh at you behind your back. The only way the GPS can screw you up is if you don't listen to the directions that the machine gives you. Then you are screwing up, not the machine.
Some days I wish that my husband had an off switch. Then I could have switched him off and taken the GPS system with me into the theatre to see Bill Cosby.
A note of apology to my dear sweet husband who suffers the ill will of being the man who is regularly in these blogs representing every man. Dave, I use your name, and our stories, at times I embellish, never ever in your favor, but you know that I love you and appreciate that you are a good sport when I write about you and share your very few imperfections with the world. <3
Monday, February 23, 2009
Dylan's head crashed down on the kitchen table to applause and giggles from his visiting school friend. Dylan looks up with a rye smile and says.
"My sister barfies! Dylan sick!" I am holding on to the phone so tightly I am surprised that it doesn't crush in my hands. I bump Alice out the door way with my hip and lock her out in the hallway. She is now screaming and knocking on the door.
"Momma, Momma, I can't get in!" I am rubbing Dylan's back as the recorded voice finally tells me that if this is of an urgent nature I can hit zero to speak to an operator. Why have I waited for what feels like 4 hours to hear this most important information! I am glad that no one is having cardiac arrest. I hit zero and start screaming Shirley McClean style from the movie Terms of Endearment into the receiver.
"I know we are taking him to the emergency room.."
"No...This child needs to be in some kind of therapy, this behavior is not normal..."
"This behavior is very strange. This child banged his own head? He needs to be observed and perhaps have some kind of therapy."
"Obviously you have never had a 6-year-old boy! Listen, I am on my way to the emergency room."