Monday, November 17, 2008

Feeling a Little Blog-Conscious

:sigh:



Rolling through my head is an old familiar tune….

“Oh life….is bigger…

It’s bigger than you,

And you are not me….”



I’m not losing my religion, nor am I particularly melancholy, so why this song I don’t particularly know….besides the fact that I lurve REM and wish I heard them more, I think it mostly has to do with me just thinking about just how big life truly is and how it can become bigger than me, the person to whom my life belongs* if I let it, what with my life going in a million different directions.



* That isn’t quite right….I am not the author and finisher of my life, God is – what I meant to say was, you know, that I’m the supposed container for this life and yet if I let it life can outgrow me and make me feel like a tiny being watching my life as a bystander rather than the major actor in it….sort of an out-of-life experience, so to speak.



I haven’t blogged in 9 11 days. I think that is my record….I mean, even on our vacation this summer I took the time to blog. Lots of blogworthy stuff too…And the fact that it’s taken me this long makes me feel so disconnected from my bloggies! Let’s see….


The other night Punkinhead was standing over by Charlie Brown, and he tooted. An exaggerated “Excuse me” followed from one little red-headed boy, and then his quip, “That’s because I farted and I always hafta say ‘scuse me when I fart.”



Since when, I wondered, as half the time we have to beg him to employ his manners. Also, it wasn’t like we needed to be told that he’d had a gaseous emission as it was really quite audible.



But perhaps the funniest part of this exchange was when LMNOB, sitting at the table in the kitchen with me, leaned over, hand to the side of her mouth and with a stage whisper, said, “You ought to put that on your blog, Mama.”



The girl knows me. Or, rather, she’s banking on being able to pull these stories up in the teen years to embarrass the hell out of him. Yeah, probably the latter.



******************

And because I believe in equal rights….



here’s a story about LMNOB.



The last several weeks at church I’ve noticed a little boy who used to be more friends with Punkinhead than LMNOB showing LMNOB some newfound attention. They’ve been playing together quite physically at church with the usual platonic rough-housing of children whose sexuality is still extremely repressed and in latency…and will forever stay there in the boys/girls have cooties phase, right? I jest….I know I need only to blink before LMNOB starts thinking she needs a boyfriend, let alone want one.



Anyway, Saturday this little boy and my two were at the same birthday party and he came over to LMNOB to give her a great big bear hug. At this point, I caught him trying to give her a peck on the cheek. I also saw that he had to really try as LMNOB was desperately trying to fend him off with a look that said, “Duuuuuuuude!!! So not requited!”



I intervened and said, “Hey, let’s not get too crazy here in the hallway – we’re blocking people’s way.” And the situation was remedied.



It was totally innocent enough – it felt reminiscent of being in grade school and the boys chasing me on the playground. But still, highly entertaining – so as I relayed the story to Charlie Brown that night, when LMNOB finished it all up with wide eyes and the resolute proclamation that, “Yeah! Mama, it was really.... AWKWARD!”



Charlie Brown and I just busted up laughing at her seriousness. Then we did the proper parenting thing and took advantage of this teachable moment; Charlie Brown showed her how to elbow a boy where it hurts. In all seriousness, we talked about how this sort of thing doesn’t mean anything at this age and boys just do silly things to girls they like to get a reaction. We also told her that she is always allowed to say no and to tell a boy to stop when/if someone is crossing the line. But, :sniff: my baby’s growing up now, having awkward moments, let alone being capable of verbalizing such!

*************


Last Thursday night, our house was trashed. It seems as though it gets clean over the weekends, and we do ok the first few days of the week, but something happens by Wednesday night. Dishes don’t get washed, school folders have vomited papers ALL over the place, and random articles of clothing just appear out of nowhere on the floor. I had a lia sophia team meeting that night and asked Charlie Brown if he and the kids could make some serious housekeeping efforts because DSW and my two brothers were coming over for dinner Friday night.

“Whaaaaaa?” Charlie Brown inquired, “I’m just now hearing about this, on the night before and our house is trashed and you’re LEAVING????”

I apologized half-heartedly, begging pardons for placenta brain. Inwardly though, I did the mental retort: “Uhm, yeah. The house is trashed because I’m PREGNANT and TIRED of doing EVERYTHING for the past four days and when I quit no one picks up the slack.” Said retort may or may not have been highly subjective and based on little to no factual occurrences, nevertheless, said retort stuck in my head.

Then I left and heard some AMAZING success stories that just inspired me to work hard at this gig.

Came home and there was still a heap of dishes in the sink. The living room was ok but not up to my standards. It was late though and a colleague had decided she’d like to book a party in 8 days – so rather than pick up the slack and tend to the house, I had to get my first hostess pack together to give her in the morning. Spent time doing that, which was labor intensive as I had a bunch of 1st time set-up formatting type things to do. Got to bed at 11 that night.

Friday morning, the kids were complete bastards. Sensory hell and hateful raging fits out of both of them over EVERYTHING. And so, in lieu of employing my rapid cleaning plan that had hatched overnight, I had to play firefighter and put out every little spark that proceeded to ravage our morning. We missed the bus. I cried. They cried. I called Charlie Brown in effort to garner someone in MY corner.

But I spilled over and out gushed my frustrations with his lack of cleaning. “If you’d have helped last night, instead of playing X-box, then I wouldn’t be quite so stressed. I ASKED you for help and I NEEDED you. I’m just canceling dinner – that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“No, don’t cancel dinner. Besides, you said you were going to help when you got home and you didn’t – so why am I getting all of the blame?”

That was gasoline on my fire. Emotions burst out and before I knew it I was uncontainable and out of control. I eventually hung up on him.

Drop the kids off at school.

Call him back.

“I thought you wanted me to do the lia sophia thing so you didn’t have ALL the burden of income on you, and that’s fine, I understand that – but do you understand that to be successful I need to invest my time and energy NOW, even though I’m still working FT and it is a MAJOR CRUNCH?”

Yes, he did – and he was sorry, I was sorry. Kiss thru the phone and we’ve made up.
Fast forward through the day.

I left work early to get home and tidy up. I called Charlie Brown on the way home. Got home, and bulldozed straight for the dishwasher. Unloaded the dishes, thinking, “These almost feel warm to the touch….weird.” Then, when I looked around at the living room a wave of remorse hit me as I realized I was probably a total shrew as it really didn’t look all that bad in there.
Right about then, the phone rang. It was Charlie Brown, even though we’d JUST TALKED.

Exasperated, “Hello – did you forget to tell me something?”

“No – I was just wondering if the house looked any different to you.”

“Well, actually I was just thinking that maybe I was too hard on you this morning because it doesn’t look all that bad….wait….”

“I came home, Heather. I came home on my lunch break and you didn’t even notice,” I could hear his laughter.

I giggled, “Oh my goodness, DUH..No honey, I didn’t notice because of my placenta brain – but now that I know,” I squeaked, “That is sooooooooo sweet. I love you and thank you.”
This is my man lately – still working on becoming the perfect male (timing honey – it is all about timing and doing something the first time!) – but totally willing to admit when he was wrong and do what he needs to make things right. Soo sweet!

There’s more – as always, but tying up the loose ends at work has kept me pretty busy – and add to it the fatigue of pregnancy – I just haven’t been keeping up here in the blogosphere. Soon, friends, soon.
xoxo



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

1 comment:

  1. You got a good man there, and some good kiddoes too.

    ReplyDelete