The other day I ran over to 7-11 to get a Big Gulp. Actually I ran over to 7-11 to get a straw for the Big Gulp I already had - but felt weird just stealing a straw, so I bought an entirely new Big Gulp. That's me helping the economy, y'all.
Anyway. The guy behind the counter was trying to figure out how to give me my change and my eyes started to wander.
Ugly guy getting gas outside.
Oh, Look! The Power Ball is up to a gazillion dollars.
Hmmm...Two slices of pizza for three dollars.
Little sign behind the counter...."Patrons must have been born on/before 1992 to buy tobacco products"
Ho-ly! Crap!
Someone BORN the year I graduated from High School is now old enough to buy cigarettes. I don't know why it shocked me so much...But the idea that it's been 18 years since I was in High School just kind of threw me. The year I was barely graduating from hell - a baby was being born. And now that baby is walking, talking, driving, smoking, voting and probably a total asshole - because when your 18 you're an asshole by default. I certainly was.
So convinced at 18 that you know everything - and the world is your playground. Heading off to college and getting that first taste of freedom. It's only a few years from now that you realize you don't know jack - and want to move back in with your parents. Eventually you'll get your shit together. Settle down, get married, buy a house - get a real job. Get divorced, buy a different house, get a better job and marry again.
That's when you realize that you know less now than you did when you were 18. And want to move back in with your parents. With your husband and kids.
I'm at an age now where I should start getting mammograms. I'm not too far away from preparing for menopause and colonoscopies. My back hurts and I need to eat better. Vegetables and eggs give me gas and I have a stash of Tums in my bedside drawer. I hate driving at night and I own a freakin' Minivan.
12 years from now my own daughter will more than likely be an asshole herself. An adult in societies eyes and old enough to go out on her own. Hopefully by then I'll have taught her enough to let her go. And when I do let her go... I'm selling that damn minivan and getting a boob job.
People say that we have four seasons here. Even the calendar on my wall says it. Personally, I don't believe it. What we really have is Summer and Winter - and then Almost Summer and Almost Winter. However, if I had to choose just one season it would be summer.
That's not to say I don't love watching snow fall, or curling up on the couch in a pair of sweats with the fireplace going. I'm even okay with the occasional snow ball fight. Winter brings Thanksgiving, Christmas and even my birthday. What I detest about Winter is wearing a coat. Seeing my breath leave my body in my own car. The 20 extra minutes it takes to get my daughter out of the house because I have to wrap her body in fleece - and THEN she has to pee. I also hate pantyhose.
Summer is flip flops and tank tops. It's rolling her out of bed, brushing her teeth and chucking her butt in the car. Barbecues and fire works. Tomato plants and swimming pools. Summer is just, well, better.
Except when I sleep.
I can't STAND being hot when I sleep, and even though our central air is "fine" - it just doesn't cool the upstairs as much as I would like (without the $500 electricity bill). I toss and turn and sweat and throw covers around. He tosses and turns and sweats. A few months ago I actually asked him if he spilled water on his pillow. He hadn't.
So, apparently tired of hearing me bitch and moan. My folks pulled this out of their attic for me.
Isn't it the ugliest thing you've seen? It's even more horrible when you are looking at the back of it from the backyard.
DON'T CARE! This is now my favorite piece in the house. I show it to people when they come over. "Oh, do you like the paint job I did in here? How about the hardwood floors? Come see my WINDOW UNIT! It's the best!"
We only turn it on at night - and not even that high - but I have slept better the last few weeks than I have in months. I wrap myself in my comforter now and snuggle in. In even makes a nice sound so I can put my noise machines away.
Have NO idea what it's going to do for my electric bill though. I may be writing an entirely different post next month.
For the majority of the summer, the talk of the house has been 1st grade. What a big girl she is....How exciting it's going be....How different the school is going to be compared to where she is now...etc. etc. etc.
So, a few months ago she, quite matter of factly, told me that if she was going to be a big girl in the 1st grade, then she felt as though she deserved a big girl bedroom. Personally I didn't think she had a baby room by any stretch of the imagination. I was a bit perplexed about what part of her bedroom she dubbed as "babyish". So, I asked:
"What exactly is a big girl room sweetie?"
She looked at me...rolled her eyes so hard that they are still currently looking out of the back of her head...and said:
"DUH! Pink!"
After choking back a bit of vomit I thought: Awesome.
We agreed, as adults do, that I got to choose what colors would go in - and what accessories. Mom would do the room - and surprise her.
Because over my dead body was there going to be a pink princess room with a pink canopy and princess decals stuck to the walls. It was one of those foolish things I said out loud when I was pregnant and found out I was having a girl:
"I will never have a pink room in my house"
I am now, officially, eating my words.
It's taken me three days, many trips to Target and my house still has the stench of paint. But it's done. I unveil to the internet: My girls "big girl room".
An alternate title for this post was going to be: Seriously? NO! SERIOUSLY?!?!
And not just because I watch a lot of Grey's Anatomy but because SERIOUSLY!?!
I'm sure some of you remember that it wasn't long ago that we were giving swimming lessons in the basement of the house because the pressure release valve blew. Nothing we could have done about it. The house apparently seems to be at an age where it's bones are staring to creak and break and there's only so much of a preemptive strike you can do.
Not much to do but suck it up and pay the plumber.
We've been in discussion for a while about the possibility of a pet. Our daughter is at an age where she's old enough to appreciate and also possibly be a tad bit responsible enough to have one. Not to mention, I think it's important for children to grow up with a pet. You ever talked to someone as an adult that said "I never had a pet when I was a kid"...and for some reason people instantly feel sorry for them? Like what they were really saying was that their parents locked them in the closet, fed them liver and never let them watch The Great Space Coaster. Yea. It's like that. If you don't get a pet as a kid - you grow up to be THAT guy.
Here's the problem. I'm a dog person. My daughter is a cat person. And my husband doesn't give a shit - as long as he doesn't have to DEAL with the shit.
So, after a heated discussion (that took all of 10 minutes) we decided to get a cat. Here's the rub:
I'm allergic to cats.
I know. I know. Get an iguana. I've heard it before. Not very cuddly.
The truth is, I was raised with cats. I mean....we think she was a cat. Mom says she was...but I'm pretty sure she was part Doberman and part Puma. That cat hated everyone but Mom. She would sit at the bottom of the stairs and wait for me to head upstairs and then attack my ankles. Still have the scars to prove it, y'all.
So, it's all about WHICH cat and what are the rules. Long hair cats are automatically out. There are, apparently, some cats that just shed less - and have a "different" dander then some. So, the search for the perfect kitty was on. Hundreds of internet sites are bookmarked....Tons of emails have been sent out.
And then the water supply line into the house blew.
Plumbers are coming tomorrow to charge me $3400 to rip up my front yard and put new pipe in.
The kitty dream is dead. Thank God we didn't mention any of this to our daughter or else she would grow up to be THAT girl. The parents who dangled a cute little kitty in front of her and then ripped it away for a plumbing job.
Grab My Button
Grab My Feed
