But still, it creeps in. My minds tries to push it out with its entire weight. Like when I act on an impulse to rearrange a room by myself, and I try to move a bookshelf full of books using my whole body because I don’t want to be bothered with removing each piece and re-shelving it.
I can not have these images in my mind. Not when I look upon my children’s faces, faces that are of the same ages as those tiny victims. I can not look upon my children and imagine the horror that raced within those children. I can not feel my imagined grief knowing it could never mirror the gut-twisting, bone-weakening, heart-strangulating, living hell that has enveloped those parents. I just can’t.
Yet I do. Because I am a parent. Because I am a human. There is not one person who can hear of the tragedy that happened at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut and not be touched…except perhaps the kind of person who would do this in the first place.
Tonight, my mom said very simply, “None of those children will ever come home from school.” And it made me so sad. Ironically, that is the exact moment I heard about the shooting. When my child was coming home from school. The only television that got any air time at my house today was Nickelodeon, so when a friend of mine mentioned it as we stood in the school’s parking lot waiting for dismissal, I had had no idea. I didn’t even know the whole story yet. All I knew was that my children both came home from school.
Tonight after I put my daughter and son to bed, I silently prayed over them, as I do on most nights. God protect them always. I bet those parents in Connecticut have prayed those same words over their children. Unanswered prayers. It is so easy to wonder about unanswered prayers.
But I can not think about it.
I can not let myself think about it.
Beyond that, I can not think of anything else to say. But I did read something today that was about the only thing I felt I could hold onto in regards to tragedies like this. Thank you Matt Chambers at Ethoshift for your wisdom:
“[I]f you were to ask me during the greatest moments of my life exactly how and why it happened, why God chose that moment…that person…that circumstance…I’d never be able to explain it. It’s like trying to stare directly into the brightest spotlight to try and see the very center of the lightbulb. You just can’t do it. You know the light is there, you know you are in its beam, but it’s simply impossible to look into the center of it while it’s shining…
…[I]f you were to ask me during the most horrific moments of my life exactly where God was…why he didn’t stop what happened…how he could let it happen in the first place…I’d never be able to explain it. It’s like standing at the bottom of an abyss and trying to figure out exactly where the darkness begins. You know the darkness is there, you know it’s there because light is absent, but you’ll never be able to completely understand why…or how to get out.
Somewhere along the way, I imagine we’ve misunderstood the exact relationship between Heaven and earth. While a small minority are quite at peace with their understanding of it, I’d say the vast majority of us will struggle and wrestle with this for our entire lives.
While we grapple with and attempt to cling harder to our faith, there will always be a portion of it that in these moments is impossible to understand, explain, or describe. All I know is, every day around the world, tragedy like this happens. When it’s far away from us, it’s easier to stomach, but the closer it gets, the more vulnerable we feel, and it forces us to raise the questions we never wanted to talk about.
Yet, here we are…asking…begging for answers, and somehow still know that the answers we’re begging for probably won’t ever come. Besides, even if someone was able to provide an explanation of some sort, would it really help? I’m convinced explanations don’t magically end grief, or bring back people we love who have been taken away far earlier than we ever would have imagined.
This is a scenario when explanations are pointless. It doesn’t matter how genius the theology is or how many Bible verses we quote. This is that space that’s beyond anything we’re ever prepared to answer for. And that’s probably for the best. Most of us are experts at trying to fix things, but fall far short when it comes time to simply walking with people through their darkest or brightest days.”
Golly gee. I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t have anything prepared. Well, I just have so many people to thank. Oh, I know I’m going to forget someone. Let’s see. Um. First, I have to thank my parents for all those things like love and support and stuff, and for buying me my own word processor to take to college so I didn’t have to wait for an open computer in the lab whenever the writing bug bit me…the one that made a horrifically loud screeching noise when it would print at a snail’s pace, waking up my roommates any time I would finish a paper in the wee hours of the morning. And I want to thank the big guy of course. No, not THAT big guy. MY big guy. That 6’6 husband of mine, who used to love reading my latest blog, telling me each one was better than the last, but who I think now is getting kind of tired of them. But he makes windows, so what does he know? Then there’s that other Big Guy. The G-O-D. I mean, that’s a given, right? And I want to thank my fifth grade teacher Mrs. Stehly, who was actually quite crabby and mean a good chunk of the time, but who used to march around the room chanting, “Person! Number! Gender! Case!” Consequently, my writing is usually on the correct side of grammar. And then there’s…oh no, the music already? You’re playing me off? But wait! I still need to thank Leslie at Simply Better for nominating me in the first place. Oh great, here comes Will Smith’s daughter to usher me off. Man those kids get so many gigs because of their famous parents. Geez. OH, that reminds me…wait, before you push me off stage…I just have one more thing to say… Grace and Michael, Mommy won! You can go to bed now!
Okay, I may have gone a little overboard. But I am just tickled as a pickle to have received my very first BLOGGING AWARD from a fellow blogger. Leslie at Simply Better nominated me for the Liebster Blog Award. What is the Liebster BlogAward you ask? Beats me. So I looked it up, and it seems that liebster means favorite in German. Basically this is a “favorite blog award” given to up and coming bloggers. I kindly thank Leslie for naming this as one of her favorite blogs.
As part of the rules, I am supposed to list 11 facts about me, answer 11 questions posed by Leslie, chose 3-5 other bloggers to pass this award onto, and create 11 questions for them to answer. This is sounding a bit like a blogging chain letter, but far be it from me to break a chain letter. We already know my issues with anxiety. I don’t want to tempt fate that I will be unlucky in love for 17 years or that some little girl in Hoot Owl, Oklahoma will die of a rare disease caused by an allergic reaction to Fruity Pebbles. So here it goes…
Eleven Facts About Me:
#1 I took a direct hit of bird poop standing in the parking lot of my son’s preschool a few weeks ago. It looked a lot like creamed spinach, which was a shame…because I really like creamed spinach. #2 I washed the exact same load of laundry three times last week because I kept forgetting to switch it to the dryer, leaving it to get all moldy smelling overnight. #3 My dog has a long-lost lesbian lover. (Ooh, I just got an idea for another blog post!) #4 As a freshman in high school, I won a commercial writing contest by composing a rap urging kids to stay in school. Yes, I was a white girl from suburbia writing a rap. No, I have no soul or funk. But they aired the commercial anyway. I have yet to find out if I ever convinced anyone to stay in school.
God’s gift to the rear end
#5 I volunteered to be the leader of my daughter’s girl scout troop over two years ago because of my love for sit-upons. Ironically, we have not made any sit-upons. #6 I am working on a children’s book, but at a painstakingly slow pace. I hope it will be worth the wait. Scratch that. I just hope I finish it. #7 I love being in old buildings steeped in history. I imagine people of different eras inhabiting them. And I secretly like the idea that they just might be haunted. #8 I find it impressive that my husband can construct blast-proof, tornado-proof, and hurricane-proof windows. Yet at the same time, he can’t construct a decent-looking outfit. #9 I sadly took a bit of pride in the fact that while watching an episode of the old 90′s show Dinosaurs, I pointed out that the voice of Baby Sinclair was done by Kevin Clash, the same guy who voices Elmo. I am Mensa material. #10 If I could marry any character from a Christmas movie, it would be Buddy the Elf, though I bet the Ghost of Christmas Present is a pretty fun guy. #11 I am too boring to have eleven interesting facts about me.
The Answers to Leslie’s Questions for Me:
#1What was your favorite childhood memory? Probably playing Barbies on Saturday mornings with my sister…and using reverse psychology on my little brother to convince him we didn’t want to play with his hair. And then he would let us play with his hair.
#2 Favorite memory of your teenage years? Still playing with my brother’s hair. Just kidding. He usually smelled like kid sweat by then. Um, I would say weekend hangouts with my friends, particularly if they involved Steak ‘n’ Shake, Victoria’s Ice Cream parlour, cheese balls, and/or grape soda. Oh, and drama-filled fights between at least two people. We could party, ya’ll.
#3 Do you know Jesus Christ personally? Well, He still hasn’t accepted my friend request on Facebook…sooooo…that’s a little awkward. Especially since we like totally met a gazillion times at church, had a couple of classes together, and He sat next to me when my flight from New Orleans went through a crazy big storm and I thought I was going to die. And there was that time at my First Communion when He was all like, “We’re so connected. I feel like we’re one body.” So, I guess the answer is yes. But I still wish He would accept my friend request. I know His birthday is coming up, and I have the best photo of a cat blowing out candles that I want to post on His wall.
#4 What is your favorite book series? I’m not much of a series follower. I only read the first Harry Potter book. I know. Deal with it. I do enjoy each and every Sandra Boynton book I read to my kids, if that counts. But my favorite book of all time is To Kill a Mockingbird because it reveals something new to me every time I read it. And I have read it a LOT.
#5 What song reminds you of summer time? Winter Wonderland. I know. It’s weird.
#6 Who is your hero? That’s a tough one. I mean, Superman can fly and has that crazy alien strength, but there is just something about Batman’s gruff voice that says, “You ain’t dying today, sweet thing.” So I’m going to go with Batman. And Oprah…because all women are required to say her under our female code.
#7 Who do you admire and why? This is thankfully a very long list, because it means I have encountered a lot of amazing people in my life. But topping the list would be my grandparents. All four have set real, tangible examples of ways to live my life in a way I can be proud of. See? And you thought I couldn’t be serious.
#8 Do you like to travel? Where have you been? I do, although I don’t really like flying. But I do love a good road trip. I have traveled to California, Nevada, Arizona, Texas, Michigan, Ohio, Illinois, Tennessee, Florida, Louisiana, South Carolina, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Maine and all kinds of places within Missouri. I have also been to England, France, and Italy. The place I would most love to travel in the future is Ireland.
#9 What is your favorite quote or bible verse? A lot of Catholics are notorious for sucking at knowing bible verses off the top of our heads. Other Christian denominations could totally wipe the floor with us in a Bible Verse Academic Bowl. So I will just go with a regular old quote instead, albeit a very wise one about thinking before you speak and choosing your words carefully. It was said by my daughter when she was three: “Mom, I said ‘oh pickles,’ but I was thinking ‘damn it.'”
#10 How long have you been married? Is it what you thought it would be like? My husband and I have been married for ten years. I think it is more or less what I thought it would be. There are always things you can’t even imagine or expect at the beginning. But at the end of the day, I am still with my best friend. And that is what counts.
#11 Why do you blog? Because I got tired of people telling me, “you should start a blog.” Then I got started, and gosh darn if I didn’t actually enjoy it. So I will continue to do it as long as I enjoy it, or if someone starts paying me to do it. Mark my word: I will sellout.
So now it is my turn to pass the honor along. I hereby bestow the Liebster Blog Award upon:
#1Perspectives In Writing and Editing: Blogger Maggie can not only find some really creative ways to make a point, but she also needs this push to start doing it more often. In her defense, she did just release this book I may have mentioned called Milk Diaries and spends a lot of her free time being a gifted editor. But those are pretty lame excuses if you ask me.
#223thorns: I don’t remember exactly when I discovered this blog, but I do remember the exact post that made me fall in love with it. “Love. And Bacon.” This guy has a razor sharp sense of humor about a lot of various topics. And he is a terrific writer on top of it. I even enjoy reading his posts about nature and wildlife, something Jack London himself couldn’t make me do. I mean, who wants to read about a guy trying to build a fire for an entire story? Not me. But a post about cleverly book-titled soaps and other products? Yes, I believe I would love to read that.
#3 Snide Reply: First, she’s a teacher. So I already like her. But then she goes and says stuff that just makes sense sometimes. Or makes me laugh about Christmas decorations. Or gets me thinking all philosophically…and stuff. It’s like a good mixed tape.
And here are my questions for these three nominated bloggers (ha! Suckers!):
#1 What is something about you that your blogging public doesn’t know? #2 What do you find to be the most rewarding part of blogging? #3 What do you find to be the most frustrating part of blogging? #4 Do you have a go-to when you are in need of writing inspiration? #5 What is the best thing that has ever happened to you? #6 What do you hope readers get out of your blog? #7 Who do you find to be the most overrated author? #8 What would you do with a purple brick? #9 If you could be any character from literature, who would you be? #10 Team Twilight or Team I Don’t Give a Crap? #11 Can God make a burrito so hot that even He couldn’t eat it?
Whew! So there you have it folks. This concludes the First Annual Are You Finished Yet Blogging Awards. Thanks again to Leslie at Simply Better for gracing me with this honor. You should head over to her blog for a lot of great tips on living more fully and some fun giveaways. She also has two ebooks available: Buried Treasureand Mother’s Manifesto.
I think next time I might see if Billy Crystal is available.
Parents are sometimes told, “what goes around, comes around”…most often by their own parents who see the misbehavior of children as some kind of karmic payback for the grief they themselves caused growing up. I fully admit that Grace is giving me a taste of my own youthful willfulness and dramatics, but Michael? By default, the blame for Michael’s actions must lie with my husband. Which also means that many, many, many stories about his childhood were conveniently kept silent from me before I sired children with him. I hereby make the claim of false advertisement. But I guess it is too late to do anything about it. I will nobly soldier on, and tell you my latest story in the meantime.
Know this to be true: Michael and Church do not mix very well. They have had numerous battles during his short four years of life, mostly dealing with Church’s requirement of silence and Michael’s aversion to it. And there was that time he drank from the holy water font like a dog.
Well, at mass this past Sunday, our family was responsible for bringing up the Offertory gifts. I can almost hear a sympathetic “oh no” at the foreboding that statement instills in those of you who have read about Michael’s past exploits. Let me quickly assure you that neither the wine nor the Communion hosts ended up on the floor, thankfully. But that was only because the usher very wisely handed Michael the giant basket of the weekly collection to take up to the priest. And Michael likely accepted it without protest because it was the biggest item, therefore the best item. The procession up the aisle was actually incident-free, as was the hand-off of the goods. But while the rest of the family bowed in reverence toward the crucifix, Michael whipped around and took a running leap down all three of the altar steps, landing with the smacking sound of his “church shoes” against the marble floor. Awesome.
After mass was over, one of the ushers came up and thanked me for volunteering to take up the gifts. “You got quite the little comedian there,” he teased. I guess I can be thankful that my embarrassment serves as a source of chuckles for others…and that I believe in a God who is truly forgiving.
A pair of sparkly shoes. Images of a rainbow room. Three companions leading me on a journey full of magic and awe. It wasn’t Oz. It was even better.
I am currently coming off of a high from this weekend, for I witnessed the greatest concert of my life TWICE. Once in Chicago. Once in Cleveland. By now, you should know me well enough to know I am talking about The Monkees. It happened. Micky Dolenz, Peter Tork, and…wait for it…Mike “Papa Nez” Nesmith. On stage. Together. Pinch me. Continue reading “The Memory of Sparkly Shoes: The Monkees 2012 Tour”→
No, I promise that is not a typo. If you are anything like me, you may not have heard of Movember. I was enlightened thanks to a funny little blog I read called Snide Reply. It led me the Bloggers for Movember page started by Le Clown.
Movember calls for an awareness of men’s health issues and mental illness. Started in Australia, Movember has infiltrated the globe, and supporters work to raise money and awareness under the guise of mascot moustaches. You may notice my banner photo has conveniently grown one for the occasion.
Coming on the heels of October and Breast Cancer Awareness, Movember holds a rightful place. My husband actually made the observation last month at how much coverage breast cancer awareness receives in proportion to other health issues. I responded that it is probably because 1.) most everyone likes boobs for one reason or another and 2.) it is a disease that affects namely women, and women get stuff done. But Movember proves that men are stepping up to the plate on their own healthful behalf. And just as men have helped carry the flag for women’s health issues (like the NFL teams sporting pink on their uniforms in the month of October), we women need to do the same for them. After all, every woman has at least one man in her life she cares about, be it a husband, father, brother, son, boyfriend, uncle, grandfather, or friend.
My energizer bunny Grandpa on his 90th birthday. He is one of the warriors who beat prostate cancer.
Prostate Cancer is a disease on the minds of a lot of men. And it should be. I have heard it said that if a man lives long enough, it no longer becomes a question of if he will get prostate cancer, but when. That experience has proven to be true in my family. Both of my grandfathers battled with prostate cancer; one successfully, the other not so. My dad’s father was one of the lucky ones, and now in his nineties, he is giving time a run for its money. My mom’s dad had a much rougher go of it. (I remembered him in an earlier post.)
My Papa in Ireland
Papa, as I called him, was a tiger. But not a wild tiger…more like the tiger you see at the circus. The one who knows when to roar on cue and make people quake when necessary, but who also gives warm, gruff, fuzzy snuggles to those who care for him (we will just forget about that tiger that attacked Roy for the sake of making my analogy work, okay?). He battled prostate cancer TWICE, but it was not actually the cancer that took him in the end. He kicked that crap to the curb on both counts, but not without consequences. What finally took him from us was what the cancer opened him up to. By the time he died, he left behind a body that was missing a prostate, had one lung, was skin and bones, and had been ravaged by years of fighting off infections. To me, the amazing part of it was how long and hard my grandpa fought, how many times he beat the odds, and how he did it in way that made us think there was nothing to it. Despite his courage, faith, and determination, I am still left feeling that it was not fair. He should not have had to endure it. No one should.
So here’s to Movember. Here’s to helping keep the men we love healthy. Prostates may not be as pretty as boobs, but ugly things need love too. I recall a wise man in a wool hat once said, “In order to dig things that are pretty, it takes no special talent. What it really takes talent to do is to dig something ugly…dig something like a garage door. I mean, how many people say, ‘OH, look at that garage door!’ ? You know? I mean, you get a lot of this stuff, ‘Oh, what beautiful azaleas.’”
Even my daughter is sporting a ‘stache
So in other words, let’s save some garage doors! You can help by spreading the word about Movember, liking the Movember Facebook Page, and/or making a donation to my Are You Finished Yet Movember Team. If you’re a man (or a very hairy woman who doesn’t mind going “au natural”), grow a ‘stache…and get yourself screened for prostate and testicular cancers (only the guys, I mean…that would be a waste of time for the hairy women. But they may want to get their hormone levels checked). If you’re a woman, encourage a man in your life to get screened.
Now watch this rap about a bunch of men who were rockin’ moustaches before Movember was a word. And stay tuned for next month’s awareness campaign…Decentember: National Please Stop Posting Pictures of Your Elf on the Shelf in Sexually Explicit Poses and Thinking It’s Funny Awareness Month.
If you read my last post, you know I had a very important task to do yesterday. And despite being a tad on the side of super-duper-über nervous, I am happy to say that appearing on one of our local morning shows, Great Day St. Louis, actually went surprisingly well.
I have referred to myself in a previous post as being apparently really lame in person, and that I should only communicate my thoughts via my blog, where I can bypass the mockery my mouth always seems to make of the words that form in my head. History has proven that am more likely to flub up than appear cool and graceful in high pressure situations. Thankfully that was not the case yesterday; and I could not be more relieved. Because yesterday held much higher stakes than impressing some celebrity I adore. Yesterday I risked the unforgiving microscope of high def television to help promote Milk Diaries: a compilation of practical, encouraging advice from the “real” breastfeeding experts. You may have seen me mention it before. It is important to me to help get the word out about this book for few reasons:
1. The author, Maggie Singleton, is a very dear friend of mine. But she is also very talented, and I have watched in awe as she has traveled this journey of growing a seed of an idea into a real life book, doing most of the hard work herself. And doing it in a way that is full of wisdom, encouragement, humor, and even a bit of brilliance.
2. I believe in the message of the book. MilkDiariesis unlike any book I ever read as a new mother, and in the best way possible. Not only is it like getting really great advice from your girlfriends, sister, or mother, but it is a non-judgmental exploration in how mothers can succeed at breastfeeding in a myriad of ways. It is accepting of all breastfeeding viewpoints on the spectrum, whether you are a mom who wants to exclusively breastfeed, a mother who wants to nurse her children well past the year mark, a mom who wants to use a combination of breastfeeding and formula feeding, a working mother who pumps, or a struggling mother who is unsure of how long she wants to continue breastfeeding. There is a story in there for everyone, and a voice that will help each mother feel confident in whatever decision she chooses to make.
3. If Maggie becomes famous, I fully intend to ride her coattails seeing as how I contributed one of the stories in the book, “The Lactation Consultant from the Black Lagoon.” You know, I plan to be the Solange Knowles to her Beyoncé.
So considering the above reasons, I am glad I didn’t pull a “classic Kelly” moment, made famous by the great Micky Dolenz Debacle of 2011 and the Andy Cohen Catastrophe of 2012. I didn’t even make some ill-informed comment about “legitimate breastfeeding.” Whew. (I did use the word “zest” twice, as if that is a word used in natural conversation. Weird, but not damaging.) And I might add that Maggie was very graceful under pressure, appearing quite “authorly;” and Susan, another contributor to MilkDiaries,further proved that Maggie chose some great moms to share their stories in her book.
I also want to thank the people over at Great Day St. Louis who were very welcoming and not intimidating whatsoever. Their easy-going attitudes definitely put the three of us at ease, and it was nice to hear Virginia Kerr endorse the book as something she wishes she had when she was a new mother.
And now the moment you have all been waiting for…the roundtable discussion of the year. Please share this with anyone you know who is expecting a child, who is struggling with breastfeeding, or who wants to read a book that will make her feel great about being a mom. Let’s make Milk Diariesgo VIRAL!!! Boobs do really well in the viral world.
(P.S. You can find MilkDiarieson Amazon. If you live in the St. Louis area, you can pick up a copy at the Ballwin or St. Peter’s locations of Once Upon a Child or at Main Street Books in St. Charles.)
I know I JUST made a new post yesterday, but I simply wanted to share a couple random things with you. Hopefully you are not already tired of me.
A classic quote from “Billy Madison”
#1 So I have been thinking about the political candidates today and what election day must be like for them. For me, the hubbub is over. I have cast my ballot; the rest is out of my hands. And to be very frank, watching the returns will likely be anti-climatic for me since I am mostly of the opinion that my life probably will not drastically change with the election of any candidate. But that’s just me.
What I am REALLY wondering is if any of the candidates are peeing in their pants yet? That’s what I said: peeing in their pants. Particularly Romney and Obama. And I don’t mean peeing in their pants because they are so excited…I mean peeing in their pants like, holy-crap-I-could-be-hours-away-from-becoming-the-next-president-what-the-hell-did-I-get-myself-into-maybe-I-will-dodge-a-bullet-and-lose. Seriously, though. I know how I felt when someone nominated me to be on the school board, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted the pressure of making decisions that would affect the entire educational system in which I entrust my children. So I can only imagine when someone says, “Hey, man. You should be the next president.” No thank you. That’s a little too much responsibility as far as I’m concerned.
#2 Speaking of peeing in my pants, I will most surely be doing that tomorrow as I will be appearing on LIVE television to support my very good friend Maggie Singleton as she promotes her new book “Milk Diaries.” A few of us who contributed stories to the book will be there along with Maggie to discuss how insanely amazing it is, as well as touch on hot topics in breastfeeding. So if you want to hear me talk about boobs, are in the St. Louis area, and are near a television at 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday, November 7th, you can watch me and Maggie on Great Day St. Louison KMOV Channel 4. The rest of you will have to wait to see me talk about boobs until I can post the link to the show afterwards.
I might have multiple personalities. I say this because it is the only logical explanation for what could be called “inconsistencies” in my parenting. Some of the time I am fueled by anxiety, completely obsessed with shielding my children from every possible action, food, disease, location, toy, person, animal, chemical, mineral, element, intention, or idea that may harm them. This personality shall be known as Mrs. Pennynickels.
And then there’s Marge. Marge says things like, “Michael, stop that and go play on the ladder instead.”
Yes, the very same woman who channeled Mrs. Pennynickels to write “An Instagram Diary of Anxiety” also let Marge take over her body and encourage her son to goof around on a ladder. When those words sloppily slid from my lips, my husband (whose unofficial motto since becoming a father is “don’t tell mom about this”) clearly recognized that something was amiss.
“Did YOU just tell Michael to play on a ladder?” he asked, mouth agape.
“Yeah. But it was only because he was wrapping an extension cord around his neck, so I needed a quick distraction.” Totally logical, right? Marge is a genius.
I think my husband likes Marge better than Mrs. Pennynickels, because he seemed to agree with her course of action. “I guess safety is relative,” he quipped.
Ooo. Neon Boogers.
Indeed. Sometimes safety isrelative. In the above case, it was comparatively safer for Michael to play on the ladder and risk falling (from a rather low height, mind you) than continue playing with the extension cord and risk strangulation AND electrocution. You have to give your kids something now and again…like letting your son shove a glow stick up his nose because you’re just glad that this time it isn’t a Fuse Bead which gets stuck and results in a trip to urgent care.
Home Depot has all your lumber needs
Or risking the possibility that your child might get inadvertently purchased for $7.50 if it means he is not stacking towers of 2×4’s at Home Depot.
Thankfully, Marge and Mrs. Pennynickels both know not to overstay their welcome, and they each usually spend just the right amount of time influencing my parenting: Mrs. Pennynickels enough to keep child protective services away; Marge enough to keep the bottle away. My kids stay relatively safe; I stay relatively sane.
But I guess sanity is also relative.
P.S. Just to say I have done my public service announcement today, DON’T FORGET TO VOTE! For the love of everything holy, please vote…so we can get this over with and go back to recognizing most of the numbers on our caller ids. Also, Mrs. Pennynickels likes Romney while Marge likes Obama, and I am getting tired of all the mudslinging they subject me to.
Since it is the season of ghosts, here’s a little video for you:
Sorry. I had to. It’s Halloween law.
I love Halloween. Plain and simple. First, there’s the candy. Even adults sometimes need a special excuse to gorge themselves on fun size Butterfingers and Snickers. And there’s the dressing up. Halloween is by the far the best reason to slather on the face paint. Finally, there’s the scary movies. Though I can always enjoy a good horror flick any time of the year, pumpkin scented air somehow heightens the cathartic fear I crave.
My husband, on the other hand, hates Halloween for all the above reasons, except the candy. He will swipe a Kit Kat from a trick-or-treating stash faster than you can say “smell my feet.” But he loathes dressing up, so the fact that I have gotten him to do it so many times proves the omnipotence of my womanly wiles. And scary movies? Forget about it. He can’t even watch a commercial forGhost Hunters. He probably won’t even dare to read this post based on the title. He so wouldn’t survive a zombie apocalypse. I, however, will have my vast knowledge of survival skills, thanks to The Walking Dead.
To me, it’s all in fun. As far as I’m concerned, there are things much scarier than Halloween:
1. The junior girls’ clothing department in most stores. (Oh, the horror!) Don’t go into the bargain basement! The evil hoochie will suck out all your dignity!
2. Being stranded anywhere cold. Or just standing in the cold. Or getting out of bed on a cold morning. Or just thinking about being cold. (Now I’m freaking myself out.)
He is no doubt shooting the scariest movie I could ever see. This just looks horrific. Quick, someone show me a picture of a beach! (photo by By Chief Warrant Officer 4 Dennis Oglesby [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)3. Finding the perfect dress for an out-of-town wedding, traveling to the destination, and then realizing your forgot your Spanx. (I had to cover my eyes for that one.) We’re pushing the envelope of horror here. It’s worse than a slasher film.
4. Thinking your kid had an after-school activity only to get a call that she has been sitting in the parking lot waiting for you to pick her up…and sobbing. (Gasp!) Talk about Nightmare in the Carpool Lane.
5. Over-zealous salespeople at mall kiosks jumping out of nowhere. (No, please! I don’t have a minute to spare! If you let me go I won’t tell anyone! Please, I have children!)
Look at ’em. Just stalking their prey like Jaws. Watch your appendages or they may end up the victims of sneak attack massages or covered in alien lotions. (By warrenski, Drop dead Dead Sea scum! [CC BY-SA 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons)
6. The guy behind the counter at Qdoba who has absolutely no patience for me deciding which kind of salsa, beans, and cheeses I want adorning my burrito. (My heart is racing with suspenseful, impending doom.) NO TACOS FOR YOU!
Here’s hoping you only encounter ghouls and goblins, and not something worse. Happy Halloween!
Since it is the season of ghosts, here’s a little video for you:
Sorry. I had to. It’s Halloween law.
I love Halloween. Plain and simple. First, there’s the candy. Even adults sometimes need a special excuse to gorge themselves on fun size Butterfingers and Snickers. And there’s the dressing up. Halloween is by the far the best reason to slather on the face paint. Finally, there’s the scary movies. Though I can always enjoy a good horror flick any time of the year, pumpkin scented air somehow heightens the cathartic fear I crave.
My husband, on the other hand, hates Halloween for all the above reasons, except the candy. He will swipe a Kit Kat from a trick-or-treating stash faster than you can say “smell my feet.” But he loathes dressing up, so the fact that I have gotten him to do it so many times proves the omnipotence of my womanly wiles. And scary movies? Forget about it. He can’t even watch a commercial forGhost Hunters. He probably won’t even dare to read this post based on the title. He so wouldn’t survive a zombie apocalypse. I, however, will have my vast knowledge of survival skills, thanks to The Walking Dead.
To me, it’s all in fun. As far as I’m concerned, there are things much scarier than Halloween:
1. The junior girls’ clothing department in most stores. (Oh, the horror!)
Don’t go into the bargain basement! The evil hoochie will suck out all your dignity!
2. Being stranded anywhere cold. Or just standing in the cold. Or getting out of bed on a cold morning. Or just thinking about being cold. (Now I’m freaking myself out.)
He is no doubt shooting the scariest movie I could ever see. This just looks horrific. Quick, someone show me a picture of a beach! (photo from http://www.events.nationalgeographic.com)
3. Finding the perfect dress for an out-of-town wedding, traveling to the destination, and then realizing your forgot your Spanx. (I had to cover my eyes for that one.)
We are pushing the envelope of horror here, folks. It’s worse than a slasher film. (photo from http://www.washingtonpost.com
4. Thinking your kid had an after-school activity only to get a call that she has been sitting in the parking lot waiting for you to pick her up…and sobbing. (Gasp!)
Nightmare in the Carpool Lane (photo from dipity.com)
5. Over-zealous salespeople at mall kiosks jumping out of nowhere. (No, please! I don’t have a minute to spare! If you let me go I won’t tell anyone! Please, I have children!)
Look at ’em. Just stalking their prey like Jaws. Watch your appendages or they may end up the victims of sneak attack massages or covered in alien lotions.
6. The guy behind the counter at Qdoba who has absolutely no patience for me deciding which kind of salsa, beans, and cheeses I want adorning my burrito. (My heart is racing with suspenseful, impending doom.)
NO TACOS FOR YOU!
Here’s hoping you only encounter ghouls and goblins, and not something worse. Happy Halloween!
Tonight, my mom said very simply, “None of those children will ever come home from school.” And it made me so sad. Ironically, that is the exact moment I heard about the shooting. When my child was coming home from school. The only television that got any air time at my house today was Nickelodeon, so when a friend of mine mentioned it as we stood in the school’s parking lot waiting for dismissal, I had had no idea. I didn’t even know the whole story yet. All I knew was that my children both came home from school.
Are You Finished Yet? 