You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘ho hum’ tag.
So my friend Rachel hit the nail when she said that the more you know people are reading your blog, the more you begin to (subconsciously or not) edit yourself. As usual with that wise woman, I find this to be true with me. I have a whole lot to talk about… and nothing I can talk about. Because I’m smack in the middle of some life changes, I don’t have a lot I can share. Surely everyone understands that. But if you have any magical advice on when/if to get a full-time job, how to transition for child care, autism, marriage, money or friendships, please send it along posthaste. Kthanks.
So, that said.. Hi! Here’s some more filler! Keep coming back until I can share the worthwhile thoughts again!
And finally, a song (Modern Leper) by a group (Frightened Rabbit) that I’ve come to love. They were in town last week, but I found out one day too late.
No matter, it’s still a great song. I hope your weekend is as fun-filled as ours will be, and I’ll be back later.
**ETA: Fixed the song finally.
I have to post something – despite my dearth of interesting brain cells – to keep you coming back, eh?
1) Oscar is doing alright. He had to have a second surgery and the bill is still trucking uphill, but at this point we’re all-in, so send healthy cat vibes.
2) Props to my momma who got a new job. Huzzah!
3) Jon’s sister Leigh-Erin, and her boyfriend Scott, are in town for our friend Annie’s graduation from Med School. If you need an OB/GYN in New York anytime soon, lemme know and I’ll hook you up with her. She’s wicked smart and is going to kick ass in her field. Lots of fun and going out currently.
4) The following are funny search terms that pointed to my blog (and the posts I think they’re referencing). The others just made me laugh because I don’t get it:
- Matt Damon & adrenaline fatigue
- Tootie ta ta song
- Kristy Antonopulos
- Pictures of VW Camengia
- purple crack
- happy man with group friends
5) Here’s some of The King to dance to this weekend. Have a good one everyone!
I really want to have a profound and fantastically-written post today. However. I don’t think that’ll happen. But I’ll start writing and see if something miraculously develops.
Here are a few things that have popped into my mind this morning:
1. CCR’s ‘Bad Moon Rising’ is on, and it always makes me laugh to think that I grew up thinking they were saying bathroom on the right.
2. Lo’s pattern the last few days is to get up somewhere in the 4 o’clock hour, play for a while and take a nice nap around 7:00 am… Before Jack has even gotten up. Day by day I seem to get less sleep. How long do you think this can go before I implode? I give myself a week.
3. Just read this article about a high school recruit who staged a signing with Cal (complete with tv crews) when in fact he wasn’t even approached by Cal. The sheer desperation of such a grand act is more indicative to me of how far sports have gone, rather than teenage immaturity. And to think this kid wasn’t even from Texas. I’m all about sports, but this mini-rant could quickly slide into the discussion of salaries (and I’m in the camp that thinks they’re beyond ridiculous) so I’ll stop now. I’m just saying it’s sad. This kid’s a product of the machine, in my opinion.
4. My ringtone is the theme from The Office, and I’ve called myself a few times just to hear it. (ETA: That’s supposed to be the subject line. But it’s ok if no one caught it.)
[I know. I’m a dork. But it loses power if I say it first, so don’t bother.]
5. We’re going to Seattle in less than two weeks to see some friends and consume sushi and beer (hmm do those go together?) and I’m so excited it’s almost immeasurable. Hopefully you all know I love my kids more than myself, but MAMA NEEDS A BREAK. And what’s funny is that the weather in Kansas is a nasty cold snow, so usually people want sunny beaches to cheer them up. But you know what makes me happy? Rain. So where do I get to go on my winter vacation? Seattle. Hoo-ah, I’m excited.
6. Here’s my girl Cyndi after finishing her race. She’s upright, I’d be laying in the grass. Congrats, again, amiga. I’m so proud of you. 🙂
And I think that’s about this this morning. Maybe I was on the verge of amazing, but a migraine’s trying to decide if it wants to visit, so this will have to do. Ciao.
Aside from a quick, somewhat.. uh.. beer and basketball-inspired post on Wednesday, I’ve held out pretty long, wouldn’t you say?
But I broke my own rule, because it was stupid, and I’m not working on Bradley stuff during the times I write here anyway. Plus, I got the first monster book report done, which was easily 40% of it, so realistically I could tear through the rest this weekend since it’s mostly busy work.
So, how was your week? I wish I could say in the interim I had multitude of events happen worthy of talking about, but truthfully it’s been the usual. Except *something* is going on with Jack and I simply can’t figure it out. His behavior is going beyond autistic into.. orbit somehow. I know there’s often a regression right before huge developmental leaps, so I’m just watching him right now and trying to roll with it. But his illogic has morphed into complete nonsensical now. Yesterday in the car, after I decided the snow coming down was probably reason enough to go home:
“Sorry, sweet boy. We need to go home now.”
“No! Put the snow in the box! Home has gone away! Goodbye home! See you later!”
“Jack. You know that’s not possible. The house doesn’t leave. There is nowhere it can go.”
(anguished screaming) “THE HOUSE WENT ANYWHERE! GOODBYE HOUSE!”
And I know he’s just trying to create a logical justification for why doing what he doesn’t want could be impossible. It’s clever and complicated thinking, and that’s good. But more than the personification of everything going places lately, it’s the almost-terrified look in his eyes during these meltdowns that breaks my heart. I don’t think he’s particularly scared, he’ll tell us when he’s ‘scary’ of anything. So, I don’t know.
(Hmm. Now I’m sufficiently bummed. Great Friday post, Jen.)
Oh well. It’ll be fine. Just another dip in our road. I’ll post something happy soon, I promise. Or, I’ll just sigh contentedly while looking at the picture of the game 8) .
And until I come back, here’s a link to a creepy trick my moms sent me. I don’t usually fall for these things, but this one has been right all eleventynine times I’ve done it, so I’m officially spooked now. I really want someone smarter than I to explain how it works, por favor, because I can’t handle the idea of cybersupernatural right now. Kthanks.
Later, friends. I *did* miss you!
So they replaced all the machines at the gym, and have updated most of the ellipticals with these new beastly Terminator versions. I don’t remember the brand to try and find a picture, but suffice it to say you can do short stair steps and really long running strides. PLUS it has just enough tension to feel like you’re running through sand/water AND it’s so much kinder to my knee. I did it for about half an hour last night, and can barely move today. This thing is awesome.
And I mention that first because I’m sore, so I keep remembering, but also because I’m surprised that I’ve ever reached the point where I like to exercise. Really truly I enjoy it. Six months ago I would have been irritated by whatever Pollyanna would have written that – so for that I apologize – but it’s interesting to me, because my whole life I’ve categorized myself as the one whose brain muscles were the strongest ones in me. (That sounds horribly egotistical, but surely you understand what I’m saying.) And it’s not just the vanity results I’m enjoying, it’s the overall feeling better. More energy, less stress. (They weren’t kidding about that people! It’s true!) Yesterday I had an angering conversation, and later it felt good to go do something about it. I told my friend that if I can have at least a drink or a run, I can handle anything. And this is definitely a new stage. Well, the latter is, anyway. Ha.
So that’s that.
Moving on.. Jack has been a turd lately, in case the previous posts hadn’t clued you in. He’s done this before, punishing Jon for having to go to work, but I can’t figure out what triggered this latest attitude. It’s a whole new level and it’s hard to watch. I know someday he’ll understand, but now it hurts me to see him internalizing it and associating it with.. whatever he does. I’m guessing abandonment. Doesn’t really excuse the way he’s been talking to us, but I definitely feel empathy for the monkey.
And that’s about all for this mind-numbingly cold morning. We’re going to see good friends and possibly the second season of UK Office this weekend – not to mention a rash of birthday parties – so that makes this last day of the week happier. Sometimes I like the anticipation just as much, y’know?
Anyway, I hope everyone has a great weekend and is feeling well. Misty, you in particular are on my mind, amiga.
So I know from experience that I shouldn’t try and write when I’m still kind of groggy, but I think this might be the most uninterrupted time today, so I should take advantage of it.
Hmmm let’s see. Well, we have moved past the pink eye (which I don’t think was conjunctivitis, actually) and now we gots the snots. Jack is so sweetly chipper and good natured, and I hate to keep him home again, but when he coughs it’s shockingly loud. But not croupy (don’t worry Mom), so I’m not going to see the ped or anything yet.
However, if you were to tape our nights and speed them up, we’d look like a funny little Chinese Fire Drill of beds. The kids lately have started like this:
But then one of them wakes up squawking and we’ll move Lorelei into her room or Jack into our room and one of us always ends up somewhere else. Last night Lo was congested enough that she couldn’t breathe out of her nose, but when she used her mouth the pacifier fell out
[and you should know the continual spinning of earth on its axis is dependent on The Paci]
and she’d wake up pissed either way. She spent a good four hours snoring on my chest, and though it was adorable, it was not so cute that I wanted to give up sleep for it.
So why am I writing another post about sickness? No reason. But sometimes despite my intentions to be hip and interesting, I have no choice but to write about snot, puke and sleep.
It’s all good.
And to end this, I’ll post a video of why parenting is worth it. It was the tenth attempt in a row to get Lo to sing, and she became goofier with each take, so forgive the cackling in the background. She just cracks me up, the little goober.
(Check out the tats on her cheek she and Jack gave themselves with a wayward pen earlier!)
Look, we have to talk.
We need to discuss some things. You’re 30 now, and it’s time to grow up and out of the blemish stage. Really, it’s embarrassing for us both. You’re an adult, and this is a problem for teenagers. Despite the whole trend of my-decade-is-the-new-younger-decade thing, this is like grandmas going clubbing: sometimes you just have to face up to reality and act your age.
And don’t take this to mean I’ll stop paying attention to you. You are very soft, and I think you’ll be my friend when wrinkles want to move in. You do bruise ridiculously easily, but you tan fairly well too, so that helps. And hey, didn’t I just notice the birthmark that popped up on my side last week? And have I ever complained about the mark on my neck that looks like a fading hickey? We all make mistakes and I forgive you.
Honey, I know we all want to be noticed. But this isn’t the wisest way to go about it. In fact you’ll get so much more attention if you work with me here, I promise. So can we try to move forward gracefully please? Because I do wield some power too, you know, and I’d hate to threaten a chemical peel. But I will.
Just think about it. We still have time.
P.S. Is this about the tattoos?
How are you? How were your holidays?
We’re fine, in post-holiday recovery. Christmas was a crazy time, but no less than anyone else’s, so that’s secretly relieving. This was the first year Jack sort of understood what was going on, but only partially. He was all types of confused about what was happening. He didn’t get why there were presents when it wasn’t his birthday. He also didn’t get whether it was Santa’s or baby Jesus’ birthday, much less whose lap he would sit on at the mall. Talk about mixed messages, poor kid. The other day when we were going to my parent’s house he mentioned again that he was going to open presents. We told him no, that Christmas was over and it would be a year before he opened more of those kinds of presents. He sat for a moment and said ‘Fine. Then take down the tree.’
New Year’s Eve was fun. A group of friends went to dinner at a Japanese steakhouse where two hours after our reservation, we got to sit down for some delicious and horrifically expensive sushi. We then went back to a friend’s house where we hung out until the wee hours and everyone finally tried to get sleep. I slept about forty seconds before we all got up again in the freezing-ass Kansas morning to make a yummy breakfast. Unfortunately, I just don’t like eating in the morning, so I cuddled my coffee like it was oxygen.
And it’s funny, I’ve had less collective sleep this past week than since Lo was a newborn, but I’m fine. Obviously it’s because I chose to buck practicality, stubbornly resisting parenting realities. I recognize that I’m in a phase of trying to juggle the running dialog in my head while my life continues to truck along. It’s hard to accept that while I may be going through a stage of growth personally, my contemplation doesn’t jive with my environment. It’s a balance, and one of the hardest things I’ve had to be an adult about since getting married and having kids. But, it’s getting easier, and probably will be something I obviously needed to do in retrospect.
And that sounds vague and dramatic, but it’s not, I promise. It’s all good. I’m just mentioning it as a semi-excuse for my lazy posts recently. And if nothing else, I now have like, two some-odd weeks to get my academic Bradley work in so I can start provisionally teaching. That means I have to put down my newest beloved book, Love in the Time of Cholera, so I can write book reports and study and such. Therefore I may be around even less for a bit. But please don’t go away and forget me, you’ll feed my insecurities. 😉
I hope you’re all well, please comment and let me know how you’re doing and how the holidays were.
Much love to all.
I know I promised words, but coherency is simply not possible today. So I’ll continue to post filler to keep you coming back until my lobotomy, mmkay? Listen to the music over thar <– and enjoy today’s randomness.
First, a funny:
Then a political discussion point:
And finally a quiz game for those more geographically knowledgeable than myself (which would be everyone, since I still have to think about where Nebraska is and I’m sadly not kidding):
Regardless, first potty dookies MUST be recorded for time immemorial.
So exciting and yet so bittersweet for me..
[[ETA: Too many people were searching for and clicking on the picture that was here, so I took it down. 3/1/08]]
In other news, we’ve been elfed. Everyone I know on the planet has done one, and I think they’re cute enough, but I don’t have the patience to wait for it to load half the time, so I didn’t have the energy to try and create one. The best reason to click and wait for this one though is b/c Lindsey accidentally put my face on the boy elf and her boyfriend Mike’s on the girl elf. I’ll let you insert appropriate jokes here if you wish.
And lastly I have a question for all my female friends out there (unless the guys know and are comfortable enough in their manhood to answer the question). We have a wedding this weekend and I want to wear a cute dress I’ve worn to all the weddings recently, but it’s obviously too freaking cold for it by itself. I have a nice coat, but the dress is sleeveless – don’t I need a wrap or shrug or something? Also, if I remember correctly, my heels need to be closed-toe, right?
Sigh. Sometimes being a girl is such a PITA. Good thing my calves are looking GREAT from all my elephant panic at the gym, right? 😀
Thanks again for the rescues yesterday, friends. It’s nice to feel loved. As Sam would say: Smooches all around.
I love my son. Lo and I woke up Jack this morning with the promise of ‘driving on the highway’ as soon as breakfast was over, and his excitement of going in the car pushed him out of bed, even though his sleepiness caused him to walk smack into the doorway. He is such my little carbon copy sometimes. He’d be content to drive for hours listening to music (mine, thankfully) if it were up to him. After merging conversations he once asked if we could return the movie to the store in Colorado. I was up for it.
So we picked up our Christmas cards today, and I’m currently taking a break from addressing them. Personally I’d be ok if it were federally mandated that everyone be forced to give picture cards. I know some people think that’s lame, but I think a random card with a Santa-hatted cartoon mouse, signed with just your name, is not as much fun. But really it doesn’t matter, I just love getting Christmas cards. This is the only time of the year I check the mailbox – Jon teases me about it.
Unfortunately, I seriously underestimated the number of cards we’d need, and now I’m forced to put people into regular-card or picture-card categories. And it’s not a popularity contest, I promise. It’s more likely that if you see me all the time you’ll get a regular card while my friends across the states (world – two in Germany!) will get the picture. And I know part of this is because I just enjoy sending hellos to people – especially if the pictures are so damn cute (which, since they’re from that slide-show, they are). But also it’s because I don’t know the etiquette of whom to include or not. It’s a ripple effect on who you know, and it’s the edges that I seem to err on the side of caution – if that makes any stupid sense. I just don’t want anyone to feel badly that they didn’t get one. It’s not that big of a deal, I know, but it’s something I think about nonetheless. And it’s really not that hard to send them, so I do. Unless I don’t get enough, and then we’re back to the original problem. Sigh.
Moving on.. I finished another book Jon brought home from the library (which despite Jon’s insistence, I don’t enjoy, because then you have to give them back) and it was great. It was Chuck Klosterman’s Killing Yourself to Live . Klosterman is the main reason we subscribed to Spin for the last few years, despite it totally becoming Top-40 suckage from being bought by some horrible devil-like Clear Media or something. ANYWAY, I love Klosterman’s writing style, which is tied with Steve Rushin for how I’d love to sound like. He’s got another book out I haven’t read yet, so I’m jonesing to get it. (Or have H.Pimp get it from the library I guess. Boo.)
And finally, to end an oddly meandering post, a question thrown out there: An ongoing conversation with our friends is what song would you choose to be your intro from the bullpen, if you were a pitcher? Jon said his was something by Rage Against the Machine, which makes sense, because you want your song to represent you as a total baddass, which Rage is (are). I suggested for myself the last minute of Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’ or the intro to Ozzy’s ‘Crazy Train’, but he just gave me a look and shook his head at my apparent un-badassedness. So I’m curious what I should pick and what you would pick. That is, if you’ve ever thought about it.
Parenting and marriage are things you do every day, forever and ever. I mention this because after lying awake for a long time last night, listening to my (beloved) snoring husband, I got donkey-kicked out of the bed by my little heat-blasting octopus. Bah.
So. How is everyone doing? Did you have a good weekend? (Feel free to really answer – I’m not being rhetorical.) We were pretty low-key here. Obviously the royal prince asked and received his tree. I thought the poor child was going to actually explode he was so excited. I Grinchingly had forgotten the simple joy that Christmas brings to kids, since this is the first time he’s understood or cared. Of course, now that he knows this is December, every morning we are asked if it’s Christmas. Imagine how his head will explode when it really is, and he sees the bounty he’ll get – he has no idea that Christmas brings gifts. He just thinks it’s a day everyone talks about. Oy.
Let’s see.. I got to see lots of good friends, I had lots of interesting conversations and ate lots of good chili at a TexMexMas ’07. I brought delicious cornbread, but next year I may snag my Momma’s chili recipe and try to enter the contest.
And I think that’s about it. Other than that our dumbasses bundled up and went to the park for approximately.. 4 minutes yesterday. Holy batman it was freaking cold. Later Lorelei slipped and smacked her face on the wood floor as she was sliding down the stairs on her tummy, and now she has one of those caricatured puffy lips that are on all the Simpson’s avatars. Poor monkey.
I’m not sure my Monday weekend re-caps are the most interesting thing to write about each week, but I have a hard time organizing thoughts on Mondays. I should think of a brainless theme for that day like I have for Youtube Tuesday. WHICH, speaking of, you should totally check back tomorrow – my clip will be priceless, hilarious and amazing if you were at least old enough to walk and talk in the 80s.
So happy Monday, yo.