I love spring rain. I'm sitting here knowing I should go to bed and sleep, but I want to hear the rain start falling. I love that sound. I really wish we had a tin roof sometimes, like the one on the farm. I have great sense memories of that sound, associated with looking across the farmyard at the line of locust trees just on the other side of the pasture fence while a curtain of rain cascades over the porch roof. Or the time a friend and I went out into the street and danced in the rain, got soaking wet, and loved every minute of it.
Keeps on rainin', look how it's rainin'...
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
Oh! So that's what they meant...
I was a bit puzzled by this item in my employer's wellness newsletter, then intrigued, then inspired, then disappointed. I was coming up with all kinds of unattractive things to do that week!
Turn Off Week is April 19th – 25th
…which also explains how they can get away with this one:
April is Alcohol Awareness Month
If Turn Off Week was what I thought it was, this would maybe be bad timing…
(Disclaimer: I know how serious alcohol abuse can be; this is a joke, people.)
And my personal favorite:
April is Stress Awareness month
Show of hands, folks! Who considers themselves to be *unaware* of this issue in their current day-to-day life??
Turn Off Week is April 19th – 25th
…which also explains how they can get away with this one:
April is Alcohol Awareness Month
If Turn Off Week was what I thought it was, this would maybe be bad timing…
(Disclaimer: I know how serious alcohol abuse can be; this is a joke, people.)
And my personal favorite:
April is Stress Awareness month
Show of hands, folks! Who considers themselves to be *unaware* of this issue in their current day-to-day life??
Sunday, April 4, 2010
F@#king Toys
Sighing resignedly, I walked up to my husband. "I just found a chick in your closet. What do you have to say?"
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice." [snicker]
Tiny wind-up chick, you offend me, sir. I wonder sometimes if I am the only parent out there who starts to feel like an angry troll when encountering kid toys in my room. I don't mind as much when my stuff is appropriated/borrowed/outright stolen by my kids. It is mildly annoying, but not really a big deal to me. It's just stuff.
But don't be putting your stuff in my space. It makes me NUTS. I'm tripping over toy phones, tractors, books, art supplies, you name it. One thing I care deeply about is my personal space. When no one is looking, I literally throw the toys out into the hall, into their rooms. I'm not talking about a gentle toss; I'm looking to impress the major league scouts. The eight year old in me does a little troll stomp, then I move on.
I know, I know, some day I'll miss this, this and all the myriad messes and dramas that come with small kids, but right now? You know in The Usual Suspects, toward the end of the movie, when Kevin Spacey turns back and says in a broken pitiful voice "F@#king cops"?
F@#king toys.
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice." [snicker]
Tiny wind-up chick, you offend me, sir. I wonder sometimes if I am the only parent out there who starts to feel like an angry troll when encountering kid toys in my room. I don't mind as much when my stuff is appropriated/borrowed/outright stolen by my kids. It is mildly annoying, but not really a big deal to me. It's just stuff.
But don't be putting your stuff in my space. It makes me NUTS. I'm tripping over toy phones, tractors, books, art supplies, you name it. One thing I care deeply about is my personal space. When no one is looking, I literally throw the toys out into the hall, into their rooms. I'm not talking about a gentle toss; I'm looking to impress the major league scouts. The eight year old in me does a little troll stomp, then I move on.
I know, I know, some day I'll miss this, this and all the myriad messes and dramas that come with small kids, but right now? You know in The Usual Suspects, toward the end of the movie, when Kevin Spacey turns back and says in a broken pitiful voice "F@#king cops"?
F@#king toys.
Friday, April 2, 2010
They grow up so fast...
Overheard from the other room, as DD watches some Marvel comics animated short online:
"Oh, for goodness' sakes! Just push him in already."
"Oh, for goodness' sakes! Just push him in already."
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Carbonated goodness: evil threat or vital weapon?
It has occurred to me that there is a scrawny, angry bitch trapped inside me, and the way I have chosen to keep her muted is to surround her with a layer of doughy soft flab. Am I protecting myself or others around me, by doing this? Neither? Perhaps she would be less crabby if I let her talk.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Cool tricks I can live without (you maddeningly cute little buggers)
1. When sitting half-awake next to your toddler who has woken up at 2 am insisting that he needs to poop, it is not quite as amusing as he thinks it is to show you how far his foreskin can stretch, or that he can make it "turtle" in the other direction. Mommy made it this far without seeing and/or knowing this and was fine. Mommy also doesn't think it is that hilarious that you just put your penis on Dora's head (Dora potty ring).
2. Asking coyly if I had noticed her cool trick, my DD tries to get me to play sartorial 20 questions in the middle of Target. Failing miserably (and crabbily), she takes pity on me and reveals that she didn't just get dressed, she got dressed over her pajamas and is, in fact, wearing two cozy layers. This goes some way toward explaining why she wasn't freezing cold during the car ride to the store despite her refusal to wear a coat in 20 degree weather, and also why she didn't, like every other time we go to the store, complain that the refrigerated section was giving her frostbite. Snazzy!
3. DS is learning what all he can do with his body (see #1 above), including his increasing ability to jump, hop, run, and so forth. This means that I am called to witness all sorts of "stunts" -- ranging from hopping from legs together to legs apart (ooh!), running over and hanging off the footrail on the bed (ergh - don't break that/hurt yourself), and running in with both legs through one leg-hole of his shorts. That last one cracked him up no end, and he insisted on going to bed dressed that way. Thankfully he must have gotten uncomfortable at some point, because in the morning he was wearing his longjohn bottoms -- inside-out and backwards, but otherwise on correctly.
2. Asking coyly if I had noticed her cool trick, my DD tries to get me to play sartorial 20 questions in the middle of Target. Failing miserably (and crabbily), she takes pity on me and reveals that she didn't just get dressed, she got dressed over her pajamas and is, in fact, wearing two cozy layers. This goes some way toward explaining why she wasn't freezing cold during the car ride to the store despite her refusal to wear a coat in 20 degree weather, and also why she didn't, like every other time we go to the store, complain that the refrigerated section was giving her frostbite. Snazzy!
3. DS is learning what all he can do with his body (see #1 above), including his increasing ability to jump, hop, run, and so forth. This means that I am called to witness all sorts of "stunts" -- ranging from hopping from legs together to legs apart (ooh!), running over and hanging off the footrail on the bed (ergh - don't break that/hurt yourself), and running in with both legs through one leg-hole of his shorts. That last one cracked him up no end, and he insisted on going to bed dressed that way. Thankfully he must have gotten uncomfortable at some point, because in the morning he was wearing his longjohn bottoms -- inside-out and backwards, but otherwise on correctly.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Lost and Found Department
Lost: one Sense of Humor. Well-broken-in but prone to wandering. Last seen skittering down the hallway at work or lurking in the studio corner of my bedroom. If seen, please do not attempt to capture it. Toss it some double entendres, a crossword puzzle, and chocolate truffles, and wait for help to arrive. Do not make eye contact or it will start telling you knock-knock jokes to distract you from the escape tunnel it is digging. Just keep it talking to keep a fix on its location; dirty jokes work best.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Can I fire my "health coach"?
My insurance company has started this health coaching program to try and encourage its members to make healthier choices. Okay, sounds good in theory. In practice, however, not so much. My first experience with these folks was a call from them to get things started. I would actually welcome this service if it meant that someone was assigned to check in with me that actually wanted to know what my issues and goals were, and to make suggestions and encourage me. This... is not like that. Imagine a call-center drone with a Minnesota accent.
It turns out my insurance company provided them with some basic information about recent tests and/or medications ordered for me, with the result that they had two issues to discuss with me: acid reflux and depression. On that first phone call we spent about 15 minute going around and around about whether I was or wasn't "taking my medication" for my acid reflux. I don't, but that's because he didn't prescribe any. The only problem I have with reflux is that I drink entirely too much Dr. Pepper and lay flat on my back surfing the net every night after putting the kids to bed. Reflux solution: quit drinking so much soda and get off your fat ass already. Done. But no, we had to set up a "plan" for me to follow to ensure progress with this health issue. Much eye rolling was done. And gritting of teeth.
What was even more fun was the depression discussion. She could see that I've been taking an SSRI for a while now. She then proceeded to administer the depression short-form screening questions, the ones you use to determine whether you need to have outside help with your dark side. Not surprisingly, I scored very well on that test. There was a long silence, then she had to follow up with my personal favorite, the suicide forecast question. Oh, lady, please. After being reassured that I not only knew I was depressed but I was both taking medicine and seeking additional treatment for it, she decided to go off on a ten minute pep talk that largely consisted of suggesting I contact my local Welcome Wagon to help me settle in to a new town. After explaining, in italicized tone of voice, that "new" didn't really describe me, as we've been living here for 3.5 years now, she petered out and ended the call. Ugh.
So today as I was catching up on opening the mail, I came across the "resource materials" that this conversation netted me. Acid reflux one was completely useless and devoid of any entertainment value; recycled. Oh, but the depression one. Hee hee. That's another matter. Headed "Stress Management," it offers the following suggestions on "Ways to lower your stress." Here we go:
1. "Manage your time. Schedule your commitments, and decide which are most important."
Where do I start?? What time, exactly, do I need to manage better? The hour and fifteen minutes between waking and rolling out of the house? The hour and a half between getting home and putting the kids to bed? Probably you mean the time after that, the time when I'm so wiped out from commuting, working, and oh -- parenting -- that I pretty much want to sit on my ass and veg out (see paragraph two, above). Or maybe my weekends, where I'm trying to do household chores, shop for groceries, and, well, there's that parenting thing again (pesky interesting, fun, challenging children)? Yeah. A planner is exactly what I need. What I need is shorter/no commute and more money. Will you send me those two things in a handy little mailing?
2. "Make healthy lifestyle choices. Get plenty of rest."
Oops, sorry, I just snorted Dr. Pepper through my nose. You're right about this one, you really are. This is probably the one area of my life over which I have the easiest control. But there's something about having only the time between when the children go to bed and my own bedtime to myself to do whatever I want that makes it hard for me to go to bed on time. And I don't drink coffee. So in the morning, it's more Dr. Pepper and whatever shiny, chocolaty thing I can get my hands on to get me through the day. It's a vicious cycle. I'm pretty sure that lumpiness on my ass cheeks is the bumps of Whoppers and peanut M&Ms floating just under the skin. It is a good idea, though. I'm trying.
3. "Get support from your friends and family. Ask for help."
Mmm hmm. Yep, makes sense. Oh, wait. I do that all the time. You know that great guy I'm married to? The one who keeps our household afloat by making sure that shit gets done? The one trying to get tenure? That one? Or maybe you wanted me to ask for help from my crazy family. Right now, we're all working so hard at keeping our shit together at various skill levels that it feels a bit like trying to get help opening a jar from a room full of chimpanzees with butter on their hands. Loud, noisy, confusing, buttery. Nope. Or maybe my friends? That's a good suggestion, actually, because I have quite a few really supportive friends. I'm lucky in that regard; I have more friends now than I ever have in my life. Except here's the really crappy part about depression, or at least for me when I'm depressed: I either can't or won't initiate contact with people. It's about the very last thing I have the energy to do. And if I do, I feel worse, because I feel like I'm pulling people into my viscous pool of pointless navel-gazing. When you have social anxiety plus depression, this is like telling me I'll feel better if I pull out all my fingernails to use to make a lovely bracelet.
4. "Change the way you think."
Oh. I never thought of that. Problem solved! Who knew it was just that easy! Seriously though, I know that cognitive therapy methods can do a world of good. They've helped me a lot. But some kinds of emotional crap needs bigger weapons than a worksheet and some daily affirmations.
5. "Learn better ways to solve problems and communicate."
Again, yes, very helpful suggestion. I'll add this to my things to do right now. The list that is a mile long, that makes it so hard to make a choice about what to do next that I do nothing at all. One more game of Picma...
6. "Talk to an expert. Stress can be too much to handle on your own."
Ah, we've finally gotten to one that feels like a good fit. I'm glad to hear that this feeling of dust and ashes might be something I need to have outside perspective on. Maybe I"m not thinking clearly and objectively! Good idea! I think if we've gotten this far, from talking with a clueless Minnesotan "coach," reading this handy health sheet, and having years of therapy and medication, it might be time to bring in an expert. Yep. That'll be $240 a month please. Now there's a stress-reliever for you!
So when people ask me how I'm doing, or if I'm okay, I tend to lie or to downplay it. I try to be funny or vague or flippant or evasive. I don't want to talk about it. Not really. What is there left to say?
It turns out my insurance company provided them with some basic information about recent tests and/or medications ordered for me, with the result that they had two issues to discuss with me: acid reflux and depression. On that first phone call we spent about 15 minute going around and around about whether I was or wasn't "taking my medication" for my acid reflux. I don't, but that's because he didn't prescribe any. The only problem I have with reflux is that I drink entirely too much Dr. Pepper and lay flat on my back surfing the net every night after putting the kids to bed. Reflux solution: quit drinking so much soda and get off your fat ass already. Done. But no, we had to set up a "plan" for me to follow to ensure progress with this health issue. Much eye rolling was done. And gritting of teeth.
What was even more fun was the depression discussion. She could see that I've been taking an SSRI for a while now. She then proceeded to administer the depression short-form screening questions, the ones you use to determine whether you need to have outside help with your dark side. Not surprisingly, I scored very well on that test. There was a long silence, then she had to follow up with my personal favorite, the suicide forecast question. Oh, lady, please. After being reassured that I not only knew I was depressed but I was both taking medicine and seeking additional treatment for it, she decided to go off on a ten minute pep talk that largely consisted of suggesting I contact my local Welcome Wagon to help me settle in to a new town. After explaining, in italicized tone of voice, that "new" didn't really describe me, as we've been living here for 3.5 years now, she petered out and ended the call. Ugh.
So today as I was catching up on opening the mail, I came across the "resource materials" that this conversation netted me. Acid reflux one was completely useless and devoid of any entertainment value; recycled. Oh, but the depression one. Hee hee. That's another matter. Headed "Stress Management," it offers the following suggestions on "Ways to lower your stress." Here we go:
1. "Manage your time. Schedule your commitments, and decide which are most important."
Where do I start?? What time, exactly, do I need to manage better? The hour and fifteen minutes between waking and rolling out of the house? The hour and a half between getting home and putting the kids to bed? Probably you mean the time after that, the time when I'm so wiped out from commuting, working, and oh -- parenting -- that I pretty much want to sit on my ass and veg out (see paragraph two, above). Or maybe my weekends, where I'm trying to do household chores, shop for groceries, and, well, there's that parenting thing again (pesky interesting, fun, challenging children)? Yeah. A planner is exactly what I need. What I need is shorter/no commute and more money. Will you send me those two things in a handy little mailing?
2. "Make healthy lifestyle choices. Get plenty of rest."
Oops, sorry, I just snorted Dr. Pepper through my nose. You're right about this one, you really are. This is probably the one area of my life over which I have the easiest control. But there's something about having only the time between when the children go to bed and my own bedtime to myself to do whatever I want that makes it hard for me to go to bed on time. And I don't drink coffee. So in the morning, it's more Dr. Pepper and whatever shiny, chocolaty thing I can get my hands on to get me through the day. It's a vicious cycle. I'm pretty sure that lumpiness on my ass cheeks is the bumps of Whoppers and peanut M&Ms floating just under the skin. It is a good idea, though. I'm trying.
3. "Get support from your friends and family. Ask for help."
Mmm hmm. Yep, makes sense. Oh, wait. I do that all the time. You know that great guy I'm married to? The one who keeps our household afloat by making sure that shit gets done? The one trying to get tenure? That one? Or maybe you wanted me to ask for help from my crazy family. Right now, we're all working so hard at keeping our shit together at various skill levels that it feels a bit like trying to get help opening a jar from a room full of chimpanzees with butter on their hands. Loud, noisy, confusing, buttery. Nope. Or maybe my friends? That's a good suggestion, actually, because I have quite a few really supportive friends. I'm lucky in that regard; I have more friends now than I ever have in my life. Except here's the really crappy part about depression, or at least for me when I'm depressed: I either can't or won't initiate contact with people. It's about the very last thing I have the energy to do. And if I do, I feel worse, because I feel like I'm pulling people into my viscous pool of pointless navel-gazing. When you have social anxiety plus depression, this is like telling me I'll feel better if I pull out all my fingernails to use to make a lovely bracelet.
4. "Change the way you think."
Oh. I never thought of that. Problem solved! Who knew it was just that easy! Seriously though, I know that cognitive therapy methods can do a world of good. They've helped me a lot. But some kinds of emotional crap needs bigger weapons than a worksheet and some daily affirmations.
5. "Learn better ways to solve problems and communicate."
Again, yes, very helpful suggestion. I'll add this to my things to do right now. The list that is a mile long, that makes it so hard to make a choice about what to do next that I do nothing at all. One more game of Picma...
6. "Talk to an expert. Stress can be too much to handle on your own."
Ah, we've finally gotten to one that feels like a good fit. I'm glad to hear that this feeling of dust and ashes might be something I need to have outside perspective on. Maybe I"m not thinking clearly and objectively! Good idea! I think if we've gotten this far, from talking with a clueless Minnesotan "coach," reading this handy health sheet, and having years of therapy and medication, it might be time to bring in an expert. Yep. That'll be $240 a month please. Now there's a stress-reliever for you!
So when people ask me how I'm doing, or if I'm okay, I tend to lie or to downplay it. I try to be funny or vague or flippant or evasive. I don't want to talk about it. Not really. What is there left to say?
Friday, January 22, 2010
Kryptonite
Okay, so I have too much time on my hands during my daily commute. Today's topic: why do cars have an erotic fascination? I mean, it's one thing to say that chicks dig a dude in a hot car purely because said dude probably has a lot of money and can show one a good time. It's quite another to explain a visceral reaction to the car itself. I think I can understand a little better why guys -- or anyone, for that matter -- can get so into particular models of cars. Something speaks to you. I just don't understand what it is. It's just a collection of metal (and fiberglass and plastic) parts stuck together. What's the big deal?
But it's there. My first love was the classic 60's Mustang. Trite, true, but man that's one fine car. I have to sheepishly admit that I dated one guy far longer than I would have otherwise just because he had one. Yellow, with a black rag top. That was a great car. My current obsession is the Dodge Charger. Not that sexy of a car, in the stereotypical muscle car type of way, but there's something about it that makes me want to hit the mountain roads, window down and music pumping.
Which leads me to say that I think I've hit upon the recipe for my own personal Kryptonite. DH, if you were to pose casually against a Dodge Charger, dab the scent of freshly drying laundry behind each ear and engage in witty banter, I don't think I could resist. Especially if there are brownies there too. Just sayin'.
- The TMI Queen
But it's there. My first love was the classic 60's Mustang. Trite, true, but man that's one fine car. I have to sheepishly admit that I dated one guy far longer than I would have otherwise just because he had one. Yellow, with a black rag top. That was a great car. My current obsession is the Dodge Charger. Not that sexy of a car, in the stereotypical muscle car type of way, but there's something about it that makes me want to hit the mountain roads, window down and music pumping.
Which leads me to say that I think I've hit upon the recipe for my own personal Kryptonite. DH, if you were to pose casually against a Dodge Charger, dab the scent of freshly drying laundry behind each ear and engage in witty banter, I don't think I could resist. Especially if there are brownies there too. Just sayin'.
- The TMI Queen
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Children's Books
Some of my favorite lines/sentences from children's books:
"And he thought and thought and thought about them."
- Snowy Day by Jack Ezra Keats
"It's awful how often their poogles get broken."
- Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are by Dr. Seuss
"Today is gone, today was fun, tomorrow is another one."
- One Fish Two Fish by Dr. Seuss
I'm sure there are others. These are the ones that come to mind. Any favorites of yours?
"And he thought and thought and thought about them."
- Snowy Day by Jack Ezra Keats
"It's awful how often their poogles get broken."
- Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are by Dr. Seuss
"Today is gone, today was fun, tomorrow is another one."
- One Fish Two Fish by Dr. Seuss
I'm sure there are others. These are the ones that come to mind. Any favorites of yours?
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