Every closing of a year is the end of a chapter in ones life.
Showing posts with label teens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teens. Show all posts
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Help....I've been sucked into the responsible anti-social vortex commonly known as "having a job"!
I'm sorry I haven't written lately. It hasn't been for lack of interesting or funny shit happening my life. Quite the contrary really.
I've finally emerged from the oblivion known as "being wrapped in the depressive cocoon of my comforter" and hit the ground running. I am finally and thankfully gainfully employed. After months of looking, interviewing, getting a job, losing the job to RIDICULOUS circumstances (seriously, when a new employee points out your MULTIPLE insurance and HIPAA violations....ummm, yeah you may wanna heed that warning before the Insurance Commissioner comes a knockin) then interviewing again and being passed over because I am "too personable". A full 6 months, dozen plus interviews and over 162 resumes sent I have landed a job that I didn't even know existed and was referred to by an employer that I was applying for. She said I'd be perfect for the position that another office had just mentioned they were looking to fill for an individual that was moving out of state after 10yrs of service with their practice. Turns out her intuition was fabulous because after one interview that lasted 3 1/2 hours, two separate observations and a working interview I was offered the position of Hygiene Coordinator for a local dental practice.
My days of sleeping, crying and farming (on FarmVille) have ceased and while I'm happy for the steady paycheck and reason to put on pants I am finding that all this "work" is leaving me little time to write or just watch endless hours of Lifetime television. It's a tough life I lead people.
My kids are even bitching a bit because alas, their schedules aren't of the utmost importance in my day. Their second complaint is that since returning to work my energy level has skyrocketed and thus I am on their asses every ten seconds about why they haven't picked up this or that and why they can't just "take care of it now" and "not 10 flippin minutes from now". This statement is usually followed by mass amounts of eye rolling and serious attitude.
It's a magical time being the parent to a tween and a teen. Sometimes I wonder if the Prozac will ever mellow me to the point of not wanting to beat the tar out of these two when they mount the attitude express on an hourly basis. All I can think is that I need to bask in this time period now before Hannah hits puberty and I'm flanked by two raging hormonal beings. When that day arrives I am going to go straight to my doctor and demand a monthly revolving prescription of Xanax that will need to be taken until they both no longer reside in my home.
For now I will just keep my focus on my new job and all the fun that will be had. That was sarcasm by the way....
~JP
I've finally emerged from the oblivion known as "being wrapped in the depressive cocoon of my comforter" and hit the ground running. I am finally and thankfully gainfully employed. After months of looking, interviewing, getting a job, losing the job to RIDICULOUS circumstances (seriously, when a new employee points out your MULTIPLE insurance and HIPAA violations....ummm, yeah you may wanna heed that warning before the Insurance Commissioner comes a knockin) then interviewing again and being passed over because I am "too personable". A full 6 months, dozen plus interviews and over 162 resumes sent I have landed a job that I didn't even know existed and was referred to by an employer that I was applying for. She said I'd be perfect for the position that another office had just mentioned they were looking to fill for an individual that was moving out of state after 10yrs of service with their practice. Turns out her intuition was fabulous because after one interview that lasted 3 1/2 hours, two separate observations and a working interview I was offered the position of Hygiene Coordinator for a local dental practice.
My days of sleeping, crying and farming (on FarmVille) have ceased and while I'm happy for the steady paycheck and reason to put on pants I am finding that all this "work" is leaving me little time to write or just watch endless hours of Lifetime television. It's a tough life I lead people.
My kids are even bitching a bit because alas, their schedules aren't of the utmost importance in my day. Their second complaint is that since returning to work my energy level has skyrocketed and thus I am on their asses every ten seconds about why they haven't picked up this or that and why they can't just "take care of it now" and "not 10 flippin minutes from now". This statement is usually followed by mass amounts of eye rolling and serious attitude.
It's a magical time being the parent to a tween and a teen. Sometimes I wonder if the Prozac will ever mellow me to the point of not wanting to beat the tar out of these two when they mount the attitude express on an hourly basis. All I can think is that I need to bask in this time period now before Hannah hits puberty and I'm flanked by two raging hormonal beings. When that day arrives I am going to go straight to my doctor and demand a monthly revolving prescription of Xanax that will need to be taken until they both no longer reside in my home.
For now I will just keep my focus on my new job and all the fun that will be had. That was sarcasm by the way....
~JP
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
It was positively CornMaizing....
I've lived here in Louisiana for a little over 7 years now. In all that time, although I've been invited and heard it mentioned every year about this time, I had never made it out to the Hickory Corn Maze. I can now not only check that off my list, but also check off conquering my fear of evil eyed children coming out of the rows of corn in order to kill me with sickles (thank you Children of the Corn).
I don't know that I was actually invited along this time. Hannah was for sure invited, I think I then invited myself when I heard that my friend was insane enough to not only let my daughter come but also allow each of her other two children have a friend thus making the ratio 6 to 1. Thus putting my friend at horrendous odds. She obliged whether it be for the company or for safety reasons.
We made the ride out to the maze and along the way realized that we better stop to get flashlights lest we lead 6 kids (two of which are 5 yr olds) into a dark cornfield. Sadly this thought didn't occur to us while we were at home and could take the flashlights that we own and would cost us NOTHING. Nope. We were two complete and total jackasses and made it almost 1/2 way there before making this stunning realization...it was almost 5p, it gets dark around 5:15p...we will be traipsing through a darkened maze....nah, we don't need lights!
We pulled into a Dollar General and made a beeline (after getting mumbled directions) to the "hardwares section". Section, to me, would denote that this was an area...in reality it was maybe half an aisle long. There sat our gleaming torches for just $1 a piece. We snagged 4 for the group then headed to the front to grab batteries.
My friend may have rationalized that we needed these flashlights for "safety" reasons like tripping or falling, but me? I saw things in a different light, per say. Maybe no one else cared about being in the dark and spooky cornfield but I know for a fact that I had to fight the urge to buy 5 flashlights, just for myself, and a role of duct tape. NO the duct tape was not for the childrens mouths although in retrospect that would have been an amazing idea for the 5yr olds...it would have been to secure 3 of the 5 flashlights to the following areas, one on each foot and one to my head like those coal miner hard hats. Then of course the other two would have been for my hands. Did I mention myhuge slight phobia of corn fields and the demonic children, particularly the one named Malchiah from Children of the Corn? Did I?? DID I???
But I put on my big girl panties and only bought my alotted two.
Deep breath. Ahhhhhh.......
I may have taken my calming breath too soon because when we made it to the front of the shoe box sized store we found that although there were two able bodied individuals up front with two cash registers, there was only one woman working. When I turned to look at my friend I noticed that although we were third in line we weren't last. The line was stretching down the stationerysection aisle and people were looking pissed!
At that very instant I felt that being in the car with 6 moody kids was better than being in here. My friend and I just kept exchanging glances with one another and I kept looking outside to see if A) any of the kids had jumped ship from the SUV left idling in the parking lot or B) was it rocking back and forth to the point that we may need to worry that someone was being attacked by one of the other occupants of the vehicle. No one jumped out or was maimed in our absence although I cannot be sure as to how the clerks in the store fared once we had purchased our items and left the remaining long line of customers.
A good 20 minutes later we were making our way back out to the parking lot. We made a mental note that we would allow one flashlight per pairing. One for the moms, one for the 5yr olds (which was sure to start an argument), one for the teenagers and finally one for the middle kids. We made sure that the flashlights were all the same color for the kids to prevent blood shed. Our flashlight was a different color and would have gone completely unnoticed as such if we had been just a tad bit quicker when installing the batteries. As we tried to get the flashlights ready I revisted the idea of the duct tape when the 5 yr olds became obsessed with the idea of holding the flashlights and kept asking over and over and OVER to "just hold em, not use em...just hold em".
Another 10 minutes of driving and we were at the corn field. We made our way down the winding driveway and into a clearing with the cornfield set back a ways. There was no one there and no lights. What the hell?? It looked closed. Immediately the kids started asking if they could get out. My friend and I just stared blankly at one another. Again...what the hell?? I picked up my Crackberry and quickly found the website for the corn maze. Right on the first page of the website it listed the dates and the times. Only one problem. The thing opened at 6p and it was currently 5:07p. We would either need to spend 53 grueling minutes (yeah...7 minutes less than an hour) in a vehicle with the kids -OR- attempt to come back another time before it was set to close for the season.
We weighed our options, with each ticking second which happened to feel like minutes but sadly were not.
The Pro's to staying....
1) We had already driven out here.
2) We had the flashlights.
3) The kids each had a friend with them.
4) This would really be the only time we could do it.
The Con's to staying...
1) Shit seriously making this list only ate up like 1.5 minutes...OMG, that means like another 51 1/2 more minutes of sitting in this vehicle with these kids???
We went with the pro's list and then after waiting in the car for another 20 minutes, let the kids out to tear up the place. That bought us another 10 to 15 minutes and the final 15 minutes was spent telling them (mainly the 5yr olds) to stop running and slamming themselves into the ticketing building and the port-o-potty and each other and "for the love of God put down that stick before someone seriously gets hurt".
Mercifully 6p came and we bought our tickets. We had already squashed the dreams of the tweens who had wanted to go through the maze unaided by saying "that we should all stay together it will go quicker". Apparently the ticket taker didn't know this because one of her first questions after asking if this was our first time at the maze was to ask if we would like to go in separate groups to see who could make it through the fastest. The tween girls bout came out of the their clothes thinking that this meant that they could go alone. Thankfully we didn't have to be huge meanies because then she clarified that they would need to be accompanied by someone 16 yrs or older. Luckily, we had two of those so after some quick deciding we chose to let the teens take the tweens and that left us sporting the little ones.
We all had to stand and listen to the rules of the corn maze before we could enter. These are the ones that I can remember:
1) There is no screaming or trying to scare people while in the maze. (I liked this rule because I felt it would keep me safe from some jackleg trying to reenact Children of the Corn)
2) If you ever get lost or need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come and assist you.
3) There is no use of fowl language used inside the corn maze, remember the corn have ears so they are always listening. (I'm not making this shit up...these were her EXACT words)
The teens with tweens in tow made their way into the maze first. I had to keep myself from doing the happy dance because on the upside for me, 5yr olds tire quickly of holding things like flashlights thus allowing adults to carry them and therefore decreasing the chance of sickle carrying demon children from jumping out of the cornstalks to slay me. Just a thought.
We made our way into the maze and I gotta be real honest within the first 30 seconds I thought to myself "what the fuck are you doing here this is downright creepy"...but then one of the little ones started talking about poop and I figured no scary movie I've ever seen has the mom dying while trying to dissuade a child from talking about bodily functions. Figured I was safe so I relaxed and enjoyed the trek. And oh what a trek it was. We were so turned around that within 15 minutes of entering we were right back at the entrance. The lady that took our tickets said that if you ever get to a point where you need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come to help you. I foolishly thought that these individuals would announce themselves. Feeling completely overwhelmed and going in what we believed to be circles we called out for what we deemed to be our corn savior the almighty "corn cop". That son of a bitch came out of no where through the corn and I am pretty sure I peed my pants a bit.
I told my friend that the next time we think about calling out for one of those fuckers I need to prepare my bladder.
We finally began to move and make our way to the different points on our map. This years maze was the phrase "We Stand Up For Freedom". We began in the "M" of Freedom and began to get truly lost around what we believed to be on of the "E's" but were then corrected by the first "corn cop" who said we had made it to the "F". By the time we made it to the half way point we'd been scared half to death by a shadowy "corn cop" who seemed to appear and reappear as if out of thin air. I disaffectionately named this person Jedidiah because it sounded creepy just like him and we all agreed we didn't like him one bit. We felt victorious that we had made it halfway through without any major incident of demonic sickle wielding children or accidents with the two boys we were coraling. We purchased some drinks and momentarily contemplated leaving the maze but figured we made it half way, why not finish it.
About 10 minutes later we were cursing ourselves, albeit silently so as not to be thrown out of the maze. The friend that my friends little boy had chosen to bring along as his companion for the outing began to describe in detail how he hadn't been feeling well earlier that day and was punctuating his story by farting every so often and burping in between that. I don't know how I had gone from leader to caboose but this was the most unfortunate timing for the switch. Another 20 minutes and we, well mostly me, had given up the silent cursing for actual audible commentary of our completely lost status. We called out for a "corn cop" who told us we were close to be on the right track to finding our way out.
We bought what he was selling about how we were at a certain point on the map and this is how we should hold the map and blah, blah, blah another 15 minutes or so and should be out. Then he went off to help a crying child that was part of another group and once again we were in the corn...lost...and frustrated. We tried to figure out where we were on the map. No dice. The kids were getting tired. Hell we were getting tired. We called the teen and tween group and swore that we could hear their voices just a few rows over. They were of no help to us. The boys complained more of being tired and we continued to march them up this row and arrow that corner and "just down here" and "hey I think I see a light over there" and finally we had had it. We began a somber "corn cop...oh, corn cop". Then it began to sound desperate "corn cop...we need you...please, corn cop". The boys even chimed in a time or two.
I then contemplated getting completely belligerent in an attempt at being escorted out of the maze, but decided that wouldn't be a good example for the boys. But a few seconds later both my friend and I were feeling desperate and I told the boys that if the "flippin corn cop doesn't hurry up and get his butt out here I am gonna make one or both of you cry so we could get some speedy help like that other crying child from earlier". Amazing what the treat of child abuse can do for you...we had a corn cop on us like white on rice.
He asked, ever so politely, if we would like him to show us where we were on the map so we could finish alone. We emphatically and in unison answered NO we just wanted to get out. I have to admit the poor guy was super nice and even took us to some of the few last clues on our map and let the boys do them. One was saying your ABC's while alternating your arms in an up and down position with every other letter. For instance you started with your hands in the air for A then down for B and so on. Wherever you landed determined whether you went left of right. The boys started out in sync and then lost it around F which made me laugh and make a joke about "this is what we get for sending them to public school" to which our guide said he was homes schooled. Way to bring on the creepy Children of the Corn feeling dude!
Another 10 minutes and we were free of the corn. The boys were ecstatic, but I think we were happier. We waited for a few minutes for the other kids but then we saw them coming from the car and realized they had finished WAY before us. As we loaded up the kids we commented on how much fun this turned out to be and as we made our way back out onto the road and on our way home we looked back to catch some of the kids sleeping in the back seat clutching the corn they had gotten as a souvenir.
Not every night that you choose to have 6 kids can turn out so well, but we had to admit it was pretty fun. The best part was that after traipsing them here, there and everywhere through a cornfield for 2 hours they would sleep like logs and truly that is the most precious thing of all.
I slept pretty good myself and I didn't have one nightmare of a sickle wielding demon child although I couldn't seem to get the smell of the one little one's farts from my nostril. Kids...they are just plain cornmaizing!
~JP
I don't know that I was actually invited along this time. Hannah was for sure invited, I think I then invited myself when I heard that my friend was insane enough to not only let my daughter come but also allow each of her other two children have a friend thus making the ratio 6 to 1. Thus putting my friend at horrendous odds. She obliged whether it be for the company or for safety reasons.
We made the ride out to the maze and along the way realized that we better stop to get flashlights lest we lead 6 kids (two of which are 5 yr olds) into a dark cornfield. Sadly this thought didn't occur to us while we were at home and could take the flashlights that we own and would cost us NOTHING. Nope. We were two complete and total jackasses and made it almost 1/2 way there before making this stunning realization...it was almost 5p, it gets dark around 5:15p...we will be traipsing through a darkened maze....nah, we don't need lights!
We pulled into a Dollar General and made a beeline (after getting mumbled directions) to the "hardwares section". Section, to me, would denote that this was an area...in reality it was maybe half an aisle long. There sat our gleaming torches for just $1 a piece. We snagged 4 for the group then headed to the front to grab batteries.
My friend may have rationalized that we needed these flashlights for "safety" reasons like tripping or falling, but me? I saw things in a different light, per say. Maybe no one else cared about being in the dark and spooky cornfield but I know for a fact that I had to fight the urge to buy 5 flashlights, just for myself, and a role of duct tape. NO the duct tape was not for the childrens mouths although in retrospect that would have been an amazing idea for the 5yr olds...it would have been to secure 3 of the 5 flashlights to the following areas, one on each foot and one to my head like those coal miner hard hats. Then of course the other two would have been for my hands. Did I mention my
But I put on my big girl panties and only bought my alotted two.
Deep breath. Ahhhhhh.......
I may have taken my calming breath too soon because when we made it to the front of the shoe box sized store we found that although there were two able bodied individuals up front with two cash registers, there was only one woman working. When I turned to look at my friend I noticed that although we were third in line we weren't last. The line was stretching down the stationery
At that very instant I felt that being in the car with 6 moody kids was better than being in here. My friend and I just kept exchanging glances with one another and I kept looking outside to see if A) any of the kids had jumped ship from the SUV left idling in the parking lot or B) was it rocking back and forth to the point that we may need to worry that someone was being attacked by one of the other occupants of the vehicle. No one jumped out or was maimed in our absence although I cannot be sure as to how the clerks in the store fared once we had purchased our items and left the remaining long line of customers.
A good 20 minutes later we were making our way back out to the parking lot. We made a mental note that we would allow one flashlight per pairing. One for the moms, one for the 5yr olds (which was sure to start an argument), one for the teenagers and finally one for the middle kids. We made sure that the flashlights were all the same color for the kids to prevent blood shed. Our flashlight was a different color and would have gone completely unnoticed as such if we had been just a tad bit quicker when installing the batteries. As we tried to get the flashlights ready I revisted the idea of the duct tape when the 5 yr olds became obsessed with the idea of holding the flashlights and kept asking over and over and OVER to "just hold em, not use em...just hold em".
Another 10 minutes of driving and we were at the corn field. We made our way down the winding driveway and into a clearing with the cornfield set back a ways. There was no one there and no lights. What the hell?? It looked closed. Immediately the kids started asking if they could get out. My friend and I just stared blankly at one another. Again...what the hell?? I picked up my Crackberry and quickly found the website for the corn maze. Right on the first page of the website it listed the dates and the times. Only one problem. The thing opened at 6p and it was currently 5:07p. We would either need to spend 53 grueling minutes (yeah...7 minutes less than an hour) in a vehicle with the kids -OR- attempt to come back another time before it was set to close for the season.
We weighed our options, with each ticking second which happened to feel like minutes but sadly were not.
The Pro's to staying....
1) We had already driven out here.
2) We had the flashlights.
3) The kids each had a friend with them.
4) This would really be the only time we could do it.
The Con's to staying...
1) Shit seriously making this list only ate up like 1.5 minutes...OMG, that means like another 51 1/2 more minutes of sitting in this vehicle with these kids???
We went with the pro's list and then after waiting in the car for another 20 minutes, let the kids out to tear up the place. That bought us another 10 to 15 minutes and the final 15 minutes was spent telling them (mainly the 5yr olds) to stop running and slamming themselves into the ticketing building and the port-o-potty and each other and "for the love of God put down that stick before someone seriously gets hurt".
Mercifully 6p came and we bought our tickets. We had already squashed the dreams of the tweens who had wanted to go through the maze unaided by saying "that we should all stay together it will go quicker". Apparently the ticket taker didn't know this because one of her first questions after asking if this was our first time at the maze was to ask if we would like to go in separate groups to see who could make it through the fastest. The tween girls bout came out of the their clothes thinking that this meant that they could go alone. Thankfully we didn't have to be huge meanies because then she clarified that they would need to be accompanied by someone 16 yrs or older. Luckily, we had two of those so after some quick deciding we chose to let the teens take the tweens and that left us sporting the little ones.
We all had to stand and listen to the rules of the corn maze before we could enter. These are the ones that I can remember:
1) There is no screaming or trying to scare people while in the maze. (I liked this rule because I felt it would keep me safe from some jackleg trying to reenact Children of the Corn)
2) If you ever get lost or need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come and assist you.
3) There is no use of fowl language used inside the corn maze, remember the corn have ears so they are always listening. (I'm not making this shit up...these were her EXACT words)
The teens with tweens in tow made their way into the maze first. I had to keep myself from doing the happy dance because on the upside for me, 5yr olds tire quickly of holding things like flashlights thus allowing adults to carry them and therefore decreasing the chance of sickle carrying demon children from jumping out of the cornstalks to slay me. Just a thought.
We made our way into the maze and I gotta be real honest within the first 30 seconds I thought to myself "what the fuck are you doing here this is downright creepy"...but then one of the little ones started talking about poop and I figured no scary movie I've ever seen has the mom dying while trying to dissuade a child from talking about bodily functions. Figured I was safe so I relaxed and enjoyed the trek. And oh what a trek it was. We were so turned around that within 15 minutes of entering we were right back at the entrance. The lady that took our tickets said that if you ever get to a point where you need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come to help you. I foolishly thought that these individuals would announce themselves. Feeling completely overwhelmed and going in what we believed to be circles we called out for what we deemed to be our corn savior the almighty "corn cop". That son of a bitch came out of no where through the corn and I am pretty sure I peed my pants a bit.
I told my friend that the next time we think about calling out for one of those fuckers I need to prepare my bladder.
We finally began to move and make our way to the different points on our map. This years maze was the phrase "We Stand Up For Freedom". We began in the "M" of Freedom and began to get truly lost around what we believed to be on of the "E's" but were then corrected by the first "corn cop" who said we had made it to the "F". By the time we made it to the half way point we'd been scared half to death by a shadowy "corn cop" who seemed to appear and reappear as if out of thin air. I disaffectionately named this person Jedidiah because it sounded creepy just like him and we all agreed we didn't like him one bit. We felt victorious that we had made it halfway through without any major incident of demonic sickle wielding children or accidents with the two boys we were coraling. We purchased some drinks and momentarily contemplated leaving the maze but figured we made it half way, why not finish it.
About 10 minutes later we were cursing ourselves, albeit silently so as not to be thrown out of the maze. The friend that my friends little boy had chosen to bring along as his companion for the outing began to describe in detail how he hadn't been feeling well earlier that day and was punctuating his story by farting every so often and burping in between that. I don't know how I had gone from leader to caboose but this was the most unfortunate timing for the switch. Another 20 minutes and we, well mostly me, had given up the silent cursing for actual audible commentary of our completely lost status. We called out for a "corn cop" who told us we were close to be on the right track to finding our way out.
We bought what he was selling about how we were at a certain point on the map and this is how we should hold the map and blah, blah, blah another 15 minutes or so and should be out. Then he went off to help a crying child that was part of another group and once again we were in the corn...lost...and frustrated. We tried to figure out where we were on the map. No dice. The kids were getting tired. Hell we were getting tired. We called the teen and tween group and swore that we could hear their voices just a few rows over. They were of no help to us. The boys complained more of being tired and we continued to march them up this row and arrow that corner and "just down here" and "hey I think I see a light over there" and finally we had had it. We began a somber "corn cop...oh, corn cop". Then it began to sound desperate "corn cop...we need you...please, corn cop". The boys even chimed in a time or two.
I then contemplated getting completely belligerent in an attempt at being escorted out of the maze, but decided that wouldn't be a good example for the boys. But a few seconds later both my friend and I were feeling desperate and I told the boys that if the "flippin corn cop doesn't hurry up and get his butt out here I am gonna make one or both of you cry so we could get some speedy help like that other crying child from earlier". Amazing what the treat of child abuse can do for you...we had a corn cop on us like white on rice.
He asked, ever so politely, if we would like him to show us where we were on the map so we could finish alone. We emphatically and in unison answered NO we just wanted to get out. I have to admit the poor guy was super nice and even took us to some of the few last clues on our map and let the boys do them. One was saying your ABC's while alternating your arms in an up and down position with every other letter. For instance you started with your hands in the air for A then down for B and so on. Wherever you landed determined whether you went left of right. The boys started out in sync and then lost it around F which made me laugh and make a joke about "this is what we get for sending them to public school" to which our guide said he was homes schooled. Way to bring on the creepy Children of the Corn feeling dude!
Another 10 minutes and we were free of the corn. The boys were ecstatic, but I think we were happier. We waited for a few minutes for the other kids but then we saw them coming from the car and realized they had finished WAY before us. As we loaded up the kids we commented on how much fun this turned out to be and as we made our way back out onto the road and on our way home we looked back to catch some of the kids sleeping in the back seat clutching the corn they had gotten as a souvenir.
Not every night that you choose to have 6 kids can turn out so well, but we had to admit it was pretty fun. The best part was that after traipsing them here, there and everywhere through a cornfield for 2 hours they would sleep like logs and truly that is the most precious thing of all.
I slept pretty good myself and I didn't have one nightmare of a sickle wielding demon child although I couldn't seem to get the smell of the one little one's farts from my nostril. Kids...they are just plain cornmaizing!
~JP
Saturday, October 10, 2009
In search of new....
Just recently my husband and I "celebrated" 12 years of being together as a couple. And by "celebrate" I mean that we had it pointed out to us by a friend of ours that it just so happened to be that day and so we kissed and toasted with the drinks we had been sipping on for the past two hours. This is what our relationship has come to. We are reduced to having our milestones pointed out to us by others. It's really pathetic if you ask me.
Another occurance was when I was driving my oldest daughter home from theater practice and she was dancing in the car to the mixed cd that she had made me in an attempt to prove that I "truly have lame taste in music". I stated how I really, really, REALLY am in need of a night out dancing. She looked sideways at me and said..."yeah, me too". I laughed and said non chalantly how in just over 3 years I can take her to 18 & up clubs and we can go dancing. She gave me that look of sheer terror and death of embarassment that would ensue if I was to truly attempt this most heinous of ideas.
Before I could even elaborate on this topic she said the most hurtful thing outside of telling me that I shouldn't be wearing these pants because YES they do truly make your ass look HUGE! She said..."in 3 years...you'll be like....ya know....O-L-D!" I tried hard not to slam on the brakes or slam her head into the dashboard. I proceeded to ask her how old she actually thought I was. She did that long hard pause that kids that fear they may never see a penny of allowance or be told yes they can do or have something that they want ever, ever....EVER again if they answer this question wrong.
People....in 3 years I will only be 35! What the shit?!? I am NOT old. I am NOT OLD! Jesus...most people are just now getting started on their childbearing years and me. I mean, us. Jon and I...we are at the half way point. This time in 10 years we will be the proud parents of two full fledge adults. This time in 10 years I will only be 42...so take that and suck on it!
But these two events coupled with some other things that have occured over the past few days, weeks, months....year...have made me realize that it's time to go in search of the newness again. I've begun to make a list. Jon teases me about these list. Mainly because I write them and then when I mess up I rewrite them. But I tend to keep the messy one just in case I forget to carry over some items and then I end up with two list. Two lists that usually never end up finished. I get accused of that a lot and rightfully so because I am SO not a start to finish kind of girl. I'm more of a get really excited about the start and lose all interest in the finish part. About the only things that I stay COMPLETELY interested in from start to finish are FarmVille, this season of Fringe and having sex with my husband. Not necessarily in that particular order. Although I have said the words "just let me check my crops" when Jon has given me that look of "let's get it on"!
Again...perfect example why it is time to find the new again. It's time to get back in tune with my body and to actually locate that body underneath all the layers of baby fat from the last baby (10 years ago) and those pints of Hagaan Daaz that have found their way maliciously into my mouth at 2am when I am depressed as all hell about the state of my life and the unhappiness that I have found myself in. It's just time.
For the past few days I've felt this overwhelming antsy feeling. This urge to just throw on my shoes and run. Run hard. Run fast. Run far. Probably wouldn't be a great idea if I actually allowed it to come to fruition. I'm pretty sure that I would make it to the end of my street and my family would find me dead or at least unconscious on the ground beneath the stop sign. Since running...and I must admit that every time I say, think or type that word...running...all I can think of is Forrest Gump saying it. "And I started running."
Anyways...since running is out of the question at this particular juncture I decided to have a little conversation with my inner self. At a little after midnight when all the house was quiet I pulled myself into first position (rockin the ballet), closed my eyes and just calmly explained that it's time to take back my life and ALL the things that I used to be so passionate about.
It's gonna be a tall order...a slow process...but a challenge that I must take on. For my sanity. For my self. I will not let another milestone go by uncelebrated or at least unremembered and I certainly will not allow my teenager or tweenager make me feel old. It's up to me to preserve the new. Game on bitches...game on!
Another occurance was when I was driving my oldest daughter home from theater practice and she was dancing in the car to the mixed cd that she had made me in an attempt to prove that I "truly have lame taste in music". I stated how I really, really, REALLY am in need of a night out dancing. She looked sideways at me and said..."yeah, me too". I laughed and said non chalantly how in just over 3 years I can take her to 18 & up clubs and we can go dancing. She gave me that look of sheer terror and death of embarassment that would ensue if I was to truly attempt this most heinous of ideas.
Before I could even elaborate on this topic she said the most hurtful thing outside of telling me that I shouldn't be wearing these pants because YES they do truly make your ass look HUGE! She said..."in 3 years...you'll be like....ya know....O-L-D!" I tried hard not to slam on the brakes or slam her head into the dashboard. I proceeded to ask her how old she actually thought I was. She did that long hard pause that kids that fear they may never see a penny of allowance or be told yes they can do or have something that they want ever, ever....EVER again if they answer this question wrong.
People....in 3 years I will only be 35! What the shit?!? I am NOT old. I am NOT OLD! Jesus...most people are just now getting started on their childbearing years and me. I mean, us. Jon and I...we are at the half way point. This time in 10 years we will be the proud parents of two full fledge adults. This time in 10 years I will only be 42...so take that and suck on it!
But these two events coupled with some other things that have occured over the past few days, weeks, months....year...have made me realize that it's time to go in search of the newness again. I've begun to make a list. Jon teases me about these list. Mainly because I write them and then when I mess up I rewrite them. But I tend to keep the messy one just in case I forget to carry over some items and then I end up with two list. Two lists that usually never end up finished. I get accused of that a lot and rightfully so because I am SO not a start to finish kind of girl. I'm more of a get really excited about the start and lose all interest in the finish part. About the only things that I stay COMPLETELY interested in from start to finish are FarmVille, this season of Fringe and having sex with my husband. Not necessarily in that particular order. Although I have said the words "just let me check my crops" when Jon has given me that look of "let's get it on"!
Again...perfect example why it is time to find the new again. It's time to get back in tune with my body and to actually locate that body underneath all the layers of baby fat from the last baby (10 years ago) and those pints of Hagaan Daaz that have found their way maliciously into my mouth at 2am when I am depressed as all hell about the state of my life and the unhappiness that I have found myself in. It's just time.
For the past few days I've felt this overwhelming antsy feeling. This urge to just throw on my shoes and run. Run hard. Run fast. Run far. Probably wouldn't be a great idea if I actually allowed it to come to fruition. I'm pretty sure that I would make it to the end of my street and my family would find me dead or at least unconscious on the ground beneath the stop sign. Since running...and I must admit that every time I say, think or type that word...running...all I can think of is Forrest Gump saying it. "And I started running."
Anyways...since running is out of the question at this particular juncture I decided to have a little conversation with my inner self. At a little after midnight when all the house was quiet I pulled myself into first position (rockin the ballet), closed my eyes and just calmly explained that it's time to take back my life and ALL the things that I used to be so passionate about.
It's gonna be a tall order...a slow process...but a challenge that I must take on. For my sanity. For my self. I will not let another milestone go by uncelebrated or at least unremembered and I certainly will not allow my teenager or tweenager make me feel old. It's up to me to preserve the new. Game on bitches...game on!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
I'm hoping the rest of the day turns out more interesting than this post...
It's Sunday....yeah, I know....pointing out the obvious. Yesterday was...well...it was crap. Stayed up all night Friday being completely pissed at the husband. For what I am not completely sure of at this point.
Then I accused him of giving me poisoned ice cream because I had been bitchy. He say's he didn't. Turns out he is probably right. It seems that my body does not like Hagaan Daaz Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream as much as I'd like it to and so I spent the better part of Friday evening and into the early hours Saturday vomiting and in extreme gutteral pain. Apparently my body staged a revolt when it read "15 Worst Desserts" and realized that it was consuming #14 on the list.
I spent a good part of the day Saturday feeling guilty for A) being mean to Jon and B) consuming more than a days worth of calories in just under 1 hour the night before with that damn ice cream that then acted as if it were an alien trying to escape from my intestines. I did manage to pull myself together long enough to go and get Hannah from her sleepover. She had a blast and this made me realize that I am most likely next up on the list to host the tweens at my house.
It is only 20 days until my little one turns the big 1-0!! I can't believe it. I came back to the house and immediately climbed back into my bed and contemplated how I could possibly get out of having a slumber party. That thought train was derailed when I began to have an immense stabbing pain in my left boob.
It wasn't the ungodly chest pain that I had been having a couple months ago that led me to be hospitalized and then diagnosed with costochondritis which left me homebound for over a month. No this was clearly just in my left breast.
When Jon came home from work I told him that I was having boob pain. The teenage boy in him shown in his eyes as I could see that he thought he could just "massage" away the pain. I instead opted for a heating pad and then an ice pack. I of course turned to my trusty WebMD because I was sure it would tell me that I was dying.
Apparently I was wrong and it turns out this kind of thing is actually common in women between the ages of 30 to 45. Really?? I swear whoever said that it was a beautiful thing to be a woman was clearly a man.
The more I tried to relax and not think about the increasing stabby pain in my boob the more it hurt. Finally I gave up and went to sleep. I woke up twice in the middle of the night thinking that my breast was on fire. That is how bad the pain was.
This morning it is still pretty bad. It only hurts REALLY bad when Penny decides to use it as a trampoline which surprisingly is ALOT. Jon has stopped eyeing it as if he has the "magical" touch that could surely make all it's ailments go away.
We are trying to head to the beach to spend some family time. Of course this means we have to wait for the teenager to come home. I'm thinking this detail alone will mean that we will be spending our day here instead of on some beach. Trying to do anything that requires waiting on Liv's schedule is like planning your day around me waking up at a decent hour. It ain't gonna happen so just stop waiting for it.
I actually woke up early and was rewarded with Mc Donald's breakfast. This made Penny very happy. I am beginning to realize that with my kids getting older I am totally gonna turn into one of those weird woman that thinks her pet is her baby. This point was driven home while we drove the 1.5 miles to the Mc Donald's and I had a pretty detailed conversation with my dog about what she would like to eat.
When we got to the drive thru I had to stiffle that laughter over the jackleg that they had running the intercom where you order. You couldn't understand the words that he was saying. Jon ordered and the guy was supposedly repeating the order back to us and we had to have him repeat it twice. You couldn't understand a word of what he said. It was ridiculous.
Then when we pulled around to pay, the guy that took our money could be understood clear as a bell. Ummmm....hello...why the hell wouldn't you let him be on the intercom?? Very sad Mc Donald's...very, very sad.
Penny of course got everyone's attention. At least no one called her a chihuahua this time. Not that she cares mind you. As long as there is a biscuit in it for her you can call her whatever breed of dog you want. She spent the short drive home shaking in anticipation of whatever treat was going to be bestowed upon her.
Hannah gave her some pancake and she got biscuit, sausage and egg from me. Jon gave her nothing...he's so selfish. After eating all I wanted to do was come and lay back in bed. I decided to come back and write for a little bit.
Outside of posting "Penny's Thoughts of the Day" I haven't been writing much. Not feeling very inspired or funny lately. That worries me a little. I am usually able to laugh my way through just about anything...but lately it seems harder than usual.
After I post this I think I will check the classifieds. Still hoping to find a job. Really needing to go back to work. It will help me feel a little less useless. September is a hard, hard month for me. It's when everything fell apart 3 years ago. Trying to motivate myself during this time period is almost impossible.
Jon just came in to say that he will be picking up Olivia in a little while so I guess that I will put off the job search until tomorrow or Tuesday and instead go and get stuff ready to get out of the house for a little while. I'm hoping that getting a little sun and spending the day with Jon and the girls will turn my mood around or at least take my mind off my stabby boob pain. It's friggin aggrivating!
Hope everyone has a fun and safe Labor Day.
~JP
Then I accused him of giving me poisoned ice cream because I had been bitchy. He say's he didn't. Turns out he is probably right. It seems that my body does not like Hagaan Daaz Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream as much as I'd like it to and so I spent the better part of Friday evening and into the early hours Saturday vomiting and in extreme gutteral pain. Apparently my body staged a revolt when it read "15 Worst Desserts" and realized that it was consuming #14 on the list.
I spent a good part of the day Saturday feeling guilty for A) being mean to Jon and B) consuming more than a days worth of calories in just under 1 hour the night before with that damn ice cream that then acted as if it were an alien trying to escape from my intestines. I did manage to pull myself together long enough to go and get Hannah from her sleepover. She had a blast and this made me realize that I am most likely next up on the list to host the tweens at my house.
It is only 20 days until my little one turns the big 1-0!! I can't believe it. I came back to the house and immediately climbed back into my bed and contemplated how I could possibly get out of having a slumber party. That thought train was derailed when I began to have an immense stabbing pain in my left boob.
It wasn't the ungodly chest pain that I had been having a couple months ago that led me to be hospitalized and then diagnosed with costochondritis which left me homebound for over a month. No this was clearly just in my left breast.
When Jon came home from work I told him that I was having boob pain. The teenage boy in him shown in his eyes as I could see that he thought he could just "massage" away the pain. I instead opted for a heating pad and then an ice pack. I of course turned to my trusty WebMD because I was sure it would tell me that I was dying.
Apparently I was wrong and it turns out this kind of thing is actually common in women between the ages of 30 to 45. Really?? I swear whoever said that it was a beautiful thing to be a woman was clearly a man.
The more I tried to relax and not think about the increasing stabby pain in my boob the more it hurt. Finally I gave up and went to sleep. I woke up twice in the middle of the night thinking that my breast was on fire. That is how bad the pain was.
This morning it is still pretty bad. It only hurts REALLY bad when Penny decides to use it as a trampoline which surprisingly is ALOT. Jon has stopped eyeing it as if he has the "magical" touch that could surely make all it's ailments go away.
We are trying to head to the beach to spend some family time. Of course this means we have to wait for the teenager to come home. I'm thinking this detail alone will mean that we will be spending our day here instead of on some beach. Trying to do anything that requires waiting on Liv's schedule is like planning your day around me waking up at a decent hour. It ain't gonna happen so just stop waiting for it.
I actually woke up early and was rewarded with Mc Donald's breakfast. This made Penny very happy. I am beginning to realize that with my kids getting older I am totally gonna turn into one of those weird woman that thinks her pet is her baby. This point was driven home while we drove the 1.5 miles to the Mc Donald's and I had a pretty detailed conversation with my dog about what she would like to eat.
When we got to the drive thru I had to stiffle that laughter over the jackleg that they had running the intercom where you order. You couldn't understand the words that he was saying. Jon ordered and the guy was supposedly repeating the order back to us and we had to have him repeat it twice. You couldn't understand a word of what he said. It was ridiculous.
Then when we pulled around to pay, the guy that took our money could be understood clear as a bell. Ummmm....hello...why the hell wouldn't you let him be on the intercom?? Very sad Mc Donald's...very, very sad.
Penny of course got everyone's attention. At least no one called her a chihuahua this time. Not that she cares mind you. As long as there is a biscuit in it for her you can call her whatever breed of dog you want. She spent the short drive home shaking in anticipation of whatever treat was going to be bestowed upon her.
Hannah gave her some pancake and she got biscuit, sausage and egg from me. Jon gave her nothing...he's so selfish. After eating all I wanted to do was come and lay back in bed. I decided to come back and write for a little bit.
Outside of posting "Penny's Thoughts of the Day" I haven't been writing much. Not feeling very inspired or funny lately. That worries me a little. I am usually able to laugh my way through just about anything...but lately it seems harder than usual.
After I post this I think I will check the classifieds. Still hoping to find a job. Really needing to go back to work. It will help me feel a little less useless. September is a hard, hard month for me. It's when everything fell apart 3 years ago. Trying to motivate myself during this time period is almost impossible.
Jon just came in to say that he will be picking up Olivia in a little while so I guess that I will put off the job search until tomorrow or Tuesday and instead go and get stuff ready to get out of the house for a little while. I'm hoping that getting a little sun and spending the day with Jon and the girls will turn my mood around or at least take my mind off my stabby boob pain. It's friggin aggrivating!
Hope everyone has a fun and safe Labor Day.
~JP
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Making my "Jo Bro Concert Survival Kit"
How are you gonna spend your Saturday night??
Me, I'm going to watch Jordyn Sparks and the Jonas Brother's!
Oh yeah...you're jealous. I know.
I could be in FL right now getting ready to hang out with the people that graduated from my high school (I can't believe it's been 15 years since I left that place...Go Tornado's). Instead I am creating a milestone in the mother daughter relationship I have with my two girls.
This is the first ever concert that I decided to take my kids to. I've taken my kids to the circus, plays and musicals...but no concerts. This is so not how I was raised. My mom started taking me to concerts when I was still in the womb. I cut my teeth with Carlos Santana, Three Dog Night and BB King. To be honest I think I had an unending contact high until I was nearly a year old. No wonder why my mom said I was such an easy child.
As time went on I weathered through Kenny Rogers...multiple times and was lugged from one outdoor music fest to another throughout my childhood and into my tween and teen years when all I really wanted to do was see New Kids on the Block, Debbie Gibson and Tiffany.
Today, however, will be the first concert that I have decided to partake in with my children and I chose the Jonas Brothers. WHAT....was I thinking? Oh, right I was thinking it was about the kids.
While this will mark the first ever concert for Han, Liv has been to a few concerts before with her dad. They are both excited but I have to admit Han takes the prize since she keeps coming in every so often to say, "Mom...do you know what today is? It's Jonas Brother's Day!".
Oh thank God she reminded me...I was worried I may forget. I mean it's so possible...not...that I might forget...not...especially seeing as I am putting out money that we don't have to buy these tickets and pay for a limo to make the experience "EXTRA SPECIAL". Yep, thanks Han...mommy was wondering why the day seemed fraught with anticipation.
Just a thought...but I wonder if they will think it's "EXTRA SPECIAL" when we are living by candle light and eating pb&j sandwiches for the next month.
But we did it. Jon agreed, every kid needs a special memory with their parents (notice how in previous sentences it is just me and the girls that are partaking in this "memory") and that sometimes you just gotta do it and worry about how it will affect finances later. Ummm....must take Xanax now to ward off anxious tendencies that come with spending money we don't have. Whew...that was close.
Side note...as me and the girls are enjoying our "special memory" moment...my beloved husband will be sitting back drinking one of the many Abita beers that is housed in our beverage refrigerator in the garage. Watching t.v. with no distractions...most likely in his boxers and cuddling with my dog. Lucky bastard!
Deep breath...feeling the effects of the sedative.
Okay...back to the concert preparations....
We are 3 hours away from leaving and now is the perfect time to get myself both mentally and physically prepared for the ear piercing screams that are going to befall my already partly diminished hearing (it all starts going down hill after 30) and the drama that always encompasses any night out with my girlfriends. It's like an ongoing episode of "Desperate Housewives". So here's what is in my survival kit:
Me, I'm going to watch Jordyn Sparks and the Jonas Brother's!
Oh yeah...you're jealous. I know.
I could be in FL right now getting ready to hang out with the people that graduated from my high school (I can't believe it's been 15 years since I left that place...Go Tornado's). Instead I am creating a milestone in the mother daughter relationship I have with my two girls.
This is the first ever concert that I decided to take my kids to. I've taken my kids to the circus, plays and musicals...but no concerts. This is so not how I was raised. My mom started taking me to concerts when I was still in the womb. I cut my teeth with Carlos Santana, Three Dog Night and BB King. To be honest I think I had an unending contact high until I was nearly a year old. No wonder why my mom said I was such an easy child.
As time went on I weathered through Kenny Rogers...multiple times and was lugged from one outdoor music fest to another throughout my childhood and into my tween and teen years when all I really wanted to do was see New Kids on the Block, Debbie Gibson and Tiffany.
Today, however, will be the first concert that I have decided to partake in with my children and I chose the Jonas Brothers. WHAT....was I thinking? Oh, right I was thinking it was about the kids.
While this will mark the first ever concert for Han, Liv has been to a few concerts before with her dad. They are both excited but I have to admit Han takes the prize since she keeps coming in every so often to say, "Mom...do you know what today is? It's Jonas Brother's Day!".
Oh thank God she reminded me...I was worried I may forget. I mean it's so possible...not...that I might forget...not...especially seeing as I am putting out money that we don't have to buy these tickets and pay for a limo to make the experience "EXTRA SPECIAL". Yep, thanks Han...mommy was wondering why the day seemed fraught with anticipation.
Just a thought...but I wonder if they will think it's "EXTRA SPECIAL" when we are living by candle light and eating pb&j sandwiches for the next month.
But we did it. Jon agreed, every kid needs a special memory with their parents (notice how in previous sentences it is just me and the girls that are partaking in this "memory") and that sometimes you just gotta do it and worry about how it will affect finances later. Ummm....must take Xanax now to ward off anxious tendencies that come with spending money we don't have. Whew...that was close.
Side note...as me and the girls are enjoying our "special memory" moment...my beloved husband will be sitting back drinking one of the many Abita beers that is housed in our beverage refrigerator in the garage. Watching t.v. with no distractions...most likely in his boxers and cuddling with my dog. Lucky bastard!
Deep breath...feeling the effects of the sedative.
Okay...back to the concert preparations....
We are 3 hours away from leaving and now is the perfect time to get myself both mentally and physically prepared for the ear piercing screams that are going to befall my already partly diminished hearing (it all starts going down hill after 30) and the drama that always encompasses any night out with my girlfriends. It's like an ongoing episode of "Desperate Housewives". So here's what is in my survival kit:
Jonas Brother's Concert Survival Kit
The only surefire way to make sure you make it out alive without harming the squealing masses around you.
The only surefire way to make sure you make it out alive without harming the squealing masses around you.
- Hefty supply of Excedrin Migraine.
- Ear plugs - you may want to hear the music, or not in this specific case, but this will drown out the crying fans.
- Kleenex - you really don't want the kids snot on you after they cry over how much they "love them", "want to marry them", "want to date them", "want to runaway with them" and in the event there is not toilet paper (this is New Orleans anyways) you will be covered.
- Gum - doesn't matter where you go or what you do, you ALWAYS need gum.
- Fully charged cell phone - in case you get trapped by squealing masses you can phone a friend to come rescue you or better yet so you can FB or Twitter your time away.
- Camera (preferably with ability to make video clips) - not to capture the "special moments" this is totally to capture the things that can be used as blackmail or YouTube clips (God I hope someone falls on stage).
- Hand Sanitizer - I can't even begin to speculate at the amount of germs flowing around in this crowd.
- Designated driver - for us tonight...it's a Limo...thank you Jesus!
- Liquor - (but only if you have #8) if you've got the DD situation handled then my advice is a shot before, a drink while your there and one immediately after you get home!
- Water - stay hydrated, this will allow you to escape to the serenity that is the bathroom.
- Sedatives - if ya got em...take em!
I am all packed in a comfy over the shoulder bag...feels like I've gone back to the days of lugging around an infant with a diaper bag. Now I am off to play stylist to a 9 yr old (pictures to follow) and to prod the teen along in her 2 hour efforts to get ready. Apparently my gentle chiding of, "it's a concert, not a fashion show" are falling on def ears.
Even though I whine about this not being "my kind of thing" I know that they are both excited and I can't seem to shake the idea that I am too (maybe that is the sedative talking). This should be quite an experience.
Even though I whine about this not being "my kind of thing" I know that they are both excited and I can't seem to shake the idea that I am too (maybe that is the sedative talking). This should be quite an experience.
~JP
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)