Tuesday, February 15, 2011


  • I love that when my husband is singing a song that I don't like, I can simply sing or hum a snippet of a song that I do like and shortly thereafter he begins to sing that song. It's almost subliminal. And sometimes I feel evil for doing it. But when he's been singing the same chorus to the same song over and over, I don't mind walking into the room to do some random task--put away laundry, grab a needed item, picking imaginary lint off a random object--all the while innocently humming or singing a better song. Sometimes he'll even ask me a little later, "Were you singing ________earlier? Because for some reason it's in my head." I think he must be highly suggestive. I might have to start saying phrases while he sleeps. "Hire a maid. Paint the bedrooms. Finish the basement. Tell me every day that I'm staggeringly beautiful. Throw out some of the junk in your office." Pure evil genius.

  • I am not a morning person. I don't like to converse until I'm well awake. I don't really even want someone to talk to me. I've been married to my beloved for nearly 20 years and he still hasn't realized this yet. He has no idea how close he's come to physical injury....

  • I made chocolate covered strawberries for the kids yesterday as a little Valentine goodie. They chowed down. I left aside a little plate of four for myself. I ate one last night. This morning, Sean couldn't find anything to eat in a hurry so he wouldn't be late for the bus. (A whole 'nother story.) I let him eat my strawberries. I cried inside with every bite he took.

  • At the bus stop, another mother made her way over to me. I knew I was in trouble. My stomach sank. Nobody comes over to talk to me unless they want to complain about my children or my dog. She told me that Sean had been teasing her child. I wasn't surprised. It's not right that it happened, and believe me, apologies were made and Sean will be dealt with when he gets home. But what I really wanted to say was: "Your child isn't innocent. He gives out his own share. I've been around him when he has. And I'm pretty sure that you might want to check out some meds for him." Obviously, I didn't say this. I'm sure she's aware of her own child's issues as most mothers are. But still. It sucks. And it didn't help that the snooty, snotty, bitchy (yeah, I said it.) self-righteous neighbor was right there. I'm sure it just confirmed for her that we are exactly what she thinks we are. Sigh.

  • Sometimes I wish that my life were a musical and that I could break into song and dance at critical moments. Seriously. I daydream about this sometimes. How awesome would it be to have a situation--like say, the above mentioned--and instead of replying, just be able to burst into a well-written, witty song and bust some moves and then just walk away? It would be hella awesome, I say.

  • Lately I have just been phoning in my performance as a mother. I am tired. I am tired of homework and outings and extras and oh, just anything that requires my time and attention. Homework right now is the bane of my existence. I don't remember my parents having to be so involved in my homework. Now, as an educator, I know the reasons behind the changes and that the methods have changed and it's all good. As a parent, I just want to whine and say: I did my time in ____ grade already! I don't want to do this project/power point/skit/poster/speech _______ (insert your own hated homework assignment)!"
  • I have a crush on Hugh Jackman.
  • I might also have the weensiest crush on Seth Myers. He just makes me laugh.
  • I listen to NPR. And I like it. I think menopause might be just around the corner.
  • There might be more confessions, but I confess that if I told them to you, you might just run away screaming.

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