kdiddy.org

Our buddy Matt has a pretty great post up about his two-year-anniversary trip to New Orleans. I recommend reading it and also checking out his pictures on flickr. One disclaimer: Matt is, uh, not a Republican. If you are, his post might piss you off. Well, the situation surrounding his post SHOULD piss everyone off, but everyone has different motivations for their pissiness.

We went to the baby’s school last night for a Meet & Greet. I think I signed up for the PTO. I’m not sure. But we got to see his classroom and his locker and meet his teacher. I have such a good feeling about the school. Most importantly, the baby really liked it and didn’t even want to leave when it was time to go. I managed to hold back my cries of “HA! THAT’LL CHANGE! WELCOME TO THE NEXT 12+ YEARS OF YOUR LIFE, KID!” and merely snorted at him. But everyone there seems cool and his classroom is the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

There was one family there that squicked me out. The dad had a Larry the Cable Guy hat with a confederate flag on it. Now, I’m not implying that Larry the Cable Guy fans are automatically racist, though I will state that I think that they have terrible taste in comedy and delight in giving money to someone who is basically mocking his audience. But the confederate flag tattoo on his arm gave me pause. The mom, who my husband said bore a slight resemblance to Marilyn Manson, yelled at her three kids, the oldest of which was maybe 7 and all of whom were rather obese. Now, I’m making snap judgments about these people, admittedly, but I have a feeling that we might not get along. Not to worry, though. At least I’m not the confederate-sympathizing moron sending my kids to a city school. Way to make yourself miserable.

Alright, enough being a bad, judgmental person. First week of classes is almost over and I am so relieved. I’m also supposed to weigh myself tomorrow, but we don’t have a scale at the house and I don’t trust the university to properly calibrate the gym scales…or maybe I’m still paranoid about the last time I did a short stint on Weight Watchers last year and in three weeks on the program gained six pounds according to the gym scales. It was around that point that I said, “Fuck it,” and started eating everything in sight. I guess I should have sought a second opinion. Oh, well. I find that periodically relinquishing control over one’s self is liberating, I just relinquished for too long. Or some shit.

So, I’ve been pretty busy the past couple of days. I had some orientation events and some house stuff to tend to, plus classes started yesterday. That’s traditionally pretty crazy for me, work-wise, but it’s even more so now. I am now officially a graduate student and had the first meetings of both of my classes yesterday and today. They seem alright but I don’t yet feel like I have a clear sense of what we’re going to be doing which makes me dread the semester a little. Reading over the syllabi, some words were familiar, like “assignments,” “15-20 page paper,” and “ugh.” But I felt not unlike this chick:

The U.S. Americans…don’t have maps with such as…the Iraq…and we in the U.S. should help South Africa Americans find a map with the U.S. on it. And world peace, too.

I keep telling myself that she was just so nervous and completely lost her shit because I know I get flustered and insert words and verbal clutter when I’m nervous. But I’m worried that Miss South Carolina just had no idea what Aimee Teegarden was talking about. And did she not know that she was going to be in a pageant and therefore did not have time to prepare? Whatever. I’m sure she’s mortified. Too bad.

The baby starts kindergarten on September 6th, not August 30th like we originally thought. But this week we go to some events to meet his teachers and on Friday we take him in for some placement testing. I’m so ridiculously excited (and weepy) for him to start. But I’m taking the extra time to work myself into what will be our new routine. I’ve been packing my lunch at night and last night, for the first time ever, I used the automatic brew function on my coffee maker. I have class at 9 on Tuesdays and Thursdays so I can’t go to my office first to grab a cup. Besides, the office coffee kind of sucks.

I’m also training myself to wake up earlier and I find that when I know that I have to get up earlier my impulse to keep sleeping isn’t as strong. So I managed to drag myself up and out of bed at 6:20ish this morning and squeezed in a half hour of yoga. I’m taking advantage of our new DVR feature on cable and taping the cheesy Namaste Yoga series from FitTV. The cat came and did some form of kitty yoga with me, lying down when I did then standing up and meowing. He did kind of ruin my mini meditation by attacking my hair and he totally showed me up during the cat stretch, but I enjoyed the company.

Also, since I was already going through big changes in my tiny life, I signed up for Weight Watchers again and have a buddy in Tracey. I appreciate having her to sound off with since she’s nice and cynical and is willing to hear my rants about body image and societal pressures and whatnot. The last time I really did Weight Watchers I went to the meetings and was just kind of creeped out. Our meeting leader kept saying stuff like “Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels,” and I would be like, “Obviously, you’ve never had creme brulee. I’m pretty sure that comes close.”

Anyway, I know I probably sound like I’m drinking the diet Kool-Aid (aka Crystal Light Fruit Punch, motherfuckers), but I’m not myself. I haven’t felt this crappy in a long time…probably since December 2001 when I was a jillion months pregnant. And it’s not like when I’m not dieting my weight is the furthest thing from my mind. I think about it constantly and have been since I was little. I don’t really know if that’s going to ever change. So while I’m thinking about it, I might as well take some steps to be healthier, right? This past year or so has just been really rough and I guess I abused myself in some non-fatal ways…like with Fiery Habanero Doritos.

On Saturday, I got a little piece of mail. It came in a security envelope, the ones that require you to tear off strips of perforated paper along the edges. Inside was the baby’s school bus schedule.

Ever since then, the reality of this big transition has really been racing through my head. I was telling a friend last night that we really have to start working our way out of this summer routine that involves staying up kind of late and taking advantage of the fact that school is out by leisurely arriving at my quiet office. The baby gets the bus at 8 a.m. and so I am going to have to make sure that he starts going to bed an hour or so earlier. I am going to have to start going to bed much earlier. Watching movies until 1:30 a.m. is probably not going to cut it anymore. I’m also going to have to start doing really responsible, adult things like pack our lunches the night before and making sure that all backpacks have everything that they need. Juggling work, the baby’s school, the husband’s school and my school is going to be a real challenge and I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t slightly terrified.

I feel like we’ve been kind of skating along up until this point, dabbling in only the bare minimum of responsible habits. The baby growing up and starting kindergarten and really moving into the realm of Big Kid is forcing me to really knuckle down and do the things that I know I should instead of just letting them slide in favor of some self-indulgence.

It might be a little easier if the baby was just totally gung ho about the whole thing, but he’s a little nervous. Last night, we were talking about the bus and he asked if I was going to go with him. I explained that I wouldn’t be and he got a little upset but I said that there would be other kids on the bus and some of them would be nervous, too. But when they get to school his teachers will meet him and they will show him where to go. I think we’re both struggling to let go of the idea that I’m just shooting my kid into the unknown with no real plan. Millions of kids start kindergarten every year and mine is going to be just fine.

To top it all off, we were watching Big Love last night (I said I was a bad mom!) and the baby said that Nicki was his favorite character. I asked him why and he said it was because she’s pretty. I asked him if he thought she was the prettiest, meaning the prettiest on the show and he said, “No, Mum, you’re the prettiest.”

Alright, I have to go melt into a puddle somewhere.

Around 3:30 this morning, I was jolted awake by a gigantic thunderstorm. It seemed to be one of summer’s last hurrahs and was completely unapologetic about the shocking brightness of its lightning or the magnitude of its thunder. The baby crawled into bed with me just as I’m sure hundreds of other babies sharing our weather did the same. We held each other as the rained pounded down and it sounded like it was in the room with us. The wind howled so fiercely that I was sure it was a banshee warning me of horrible events to come. The thunder shook the house and made the baby gasp.

After a good half hour of this performance, the storm settled and the baby started to twist and turn. The husband told him to go back to bed, since our little full-size bed is barely big enough for the two of us, let alone a squirmy kid. I couldn’t go back to sleep so I went downstairs and tooled around on the computer for a little while. Just me. In the dark. And no one is online at that time of night so it really compounded the loneliness that I’ve been feeling.

I finally retired back to bed and drifted somewhere between nightmares and wakefulness.

Life is bumming me out.

I’m waiting for the coffee to kick in, so while we’re waiting…

Karl Rove is resigning. Ho. Lee. Crap.

You’re in a funk and feeling shitty, but just when you start lamenting your lost youth and declaring that you have no purpose or direction in life, someone like Chanelle and her “career” grabs your attention and makes you feel just a tiny bit better about yourself. Sure, I may be a sucker for going to school and working when there are plenty of people making millions doing shit like this, but…eh, maybe I’m just a sucker.

At Phipps the other day I encountered some sensitive plant which, I think, is just one of the coolest things on the planet. I took a short video of my encounter with it and I present it to you as a sort of Moment of Zen kind of thing.

Someone tell me how my grandmother was able to obtain my work phone number. Now she calls me all the time and is currently getting pissed at me for not knowing my son’s measurements, even though said son is currently not even in the same building as me.

I’m so angry. For over two months, I’ve been trying to get a contractor/handyman to come to my house. The drywall that the husband and his dad started needs to be finished/sanded and I also wanted to see if that person would be willing to paint the small front room and the dining room. It’s a small job but it requires some skill and precision and would probably only take a few hours of a pro’s time. I’ve talked to four different guys and each one has flaked out. They have all agreed to meet me at my house and then just stood me up and not returned my phone calls. One guy did come out here and gave me a price and then never showed up to do the work and never returned my phone calls.

This last guy rescheduled the initial appraisal/assessment and right then I had a bad feeling. But I kept in touch with him and the husband even told him about our troubles. He was supposed to be here at noon today. Noon came and went and no sign of him. I called his cell phone and left a message. Then I called his house hoping that I might get his wife so I could ask her what the fuck is up with her man. I got voicemail there as well and left a snotty message saying, “You never showed up. I am displeased. I sincerely hope nothing catastrophic happened to you.” I’m certainly past being mature about this because I am very pissed. Like I mentioned the other day, my emotions are constantly on 11 so I’m ready to have a cage match with this turd.

I realize that these small jobs do not equal big money, but I don’t understand why it’s so hard to say, “I’m not going to be able to do the job,” or “I don’t want the job,” or even just, “I hate you, never call me.” Instead, I sit around for WEEKS waiting on these assholes during which time I could have become a drywall apprentice and done the shit myself. The rooms have been sitting half-finished for a year and a half because I can not get anyone to give a shit enough to finish them.

My house is a total dump. But all anyone has to do is spare a few hours of their time (with pay!) to help me and it could be a little bit better. I can’t even find that and that is just so depressing.

My co-workers and I went to Phipps Conservatory today to see the Chihuly exhibit. It was a field trip for grown-ups basically. It was really very lovely and I realized that Phipps is actually quite relaxing if you don’t have to chase after your kid (no offense, dude, but I still have nightmares about our visit there last year when you were having “a time” and ran past all of the expensive, breakable stuff in the gift shop). Since I’m so close to stuff like Phipps and the museums, I should really make a date with myself to just go check out some art every now and then.

I put a post up about this on MamaPop, but I was delighted this morning to read a post from Lee alerting me to the existence of a new Michel Gondry movie. Eeeee! I’m so excited for this! Gondry’s brand of goofy just speaks right to my soul. Though so does Judd Apatow’s which seems like it might make a weird intersection in my brain. Anyway, Mos Def might just be one of my favorite actors. He was awesome in Bamboozled and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Galaxy and looking at his imdb page I’m realizing that I’ve seen him in quite a few things that were equally rad. Of course, who can forget his tour-de-force as the Black Head of the CIA.

I got it wrapped up in this special CIA napkin!

The baby has been working on his first loose tooth for well over a month now. This morning he came running into my room and said, “Hey Mum, my tooth came out! My tooth came out!” and immediately dropped the tiny and newly liberated tooth on the floor. He found it, though, and presented me with the most darling gap-toothed smile I’ve ever seen.

Congratulations, dude!

Gah. First tooth lost and in about three weeks he starts kindergarten.

I think I need a drink.

I am NOT going to whine about how hot and humid it is, because many before me have done that. But I will say that the one detail that I am having the most amount of trouble dealing with is when the crooks of my elbows get all sticky and bending my arms results in those spaces sticking together and then peeling apart whenever I extend my arms.

It’s slowly killing me inside.

I’ve been thinking about stuff lately and I’ve noticed that in the past couple of months the thing that I’m having the most trouble with, mentally, is how intense every emotion I have is. I don’t just get irritated, I become furious. I am never just pleased, I’m deliriously happy. I’m never just kind of bummed, I’m abysmal. If I get too many phone calls in a row at work, I’m ready to kill someone. If I get my act together for five minutes and get something accomplished, I’m ready to throw a party. If I screw something up, I’m ready to do myself in. It’s exhausting. The other major problem that I’m having is my tendency to be scatterbrained. I don’t think it’s terribly surprising that I’ve had more trouble keeping track of things since I started taking grad classes on top of everything else, but it’s almost like I have two brains instead of two hemispheres working together. And the one brain is constantly binge drinking and then waking up three days later with its underwear in its pocket and wondering how it got to Idaho.

Hmm.

Well, I’m going to walk to Craig Street to get some Weeds DVDs from Dreaming Ant. Hopefully I will not perish from either the heat or my brain forgetting how to safely cross the street. Edit: Nevermind. Monsoon ahoy.

Shockingly, Baby Einstein videos don’t make your kid a genius. I will be the first to admit that, as a parent, I’m susceptible to drinking the Kool-Aid that is the marketing of children’s products, but I never got into Baby Einstein. Some friends of my parents (incidentally, these friends were very into products and were the type who insist on $800 strollers because obviously that’s the only good and safe stroller) who had their first baby about a year before I had the baby gave me some of their videos, but I was just really uncomfortable with the idea of the baby watching TV. My general guideline was that he wouldn’t watch it regularly until he was 2 and we were able to stick to that more or less. That’s not to say that I shielded him completely from it, but I just didn’t really present it as an option. Now, of course, he seems to be on a mission to make up for those two years that I cruelly kept him from the joys of Cartoon Network.

Anyway, Baby Einstein…it just seemed like bunk and while I guess you could say that they would be a good tool to use with your baby, I have yet to meet the person who can honestly sit through one of those videos more than once. They’re boring.

In other news, PUPPIES!

Completely unrelated to anything mentioned above, I’m finding that I still feel very awkward in this new forum, like I’m still finding my voice. It’s all very dramatic. I need a room of my own!