seldomifever: (giles play)
I wanna order sons new winter coats, but neither is interested in wearing anything with faux fur. They think it looks too girly. Unfortunately, faux fur is all the rage this season. Le sigh. The boys do not seem to realize they have been wearing their sister's hand-me-downs forever.

I read this blog over at tumblr that everyone just lurved about a woman who allowed her five year old son to dress as Daphne for Halloween. She thought that if she'd had daughter who wanted to wear a Batman costume, nobody would have blinked. Orly? Then you don't have a daughter, lady, cause that shit don't fly in either direction. Shoulda bought the boy the costume to wear at home and then guided him towards something more socially acceptable to wear out. That decision will come back to haunt her in a few years: "You let me wear that purple dress to nursery school after I'd *told* you I didn't want to get out of the car!" There, there, little my-son-might-be-gay-or-maybe-not, you'll survive, despite your mother's best intentions.

Ooh, and I wanted to link you to this short film ASH starred in a few years ago. It's a little meh, but it's over quickly. Love, love the sideburns, though, Mr. Head. Sweet!
seldomifever: (16yroldb/g)
College kids in Houston get it. Why don't parents in San Francisco?

In other news, I woke up in a panic from an awful nightmare that youngest son was in an accident and suffered a severe brain injury. Scary! What's weird is that I only have dreams like this about him, never my other kids. I usually dream that he drowns. God, the helplessness and anguish are unbearable.

Boy, I've been in a chipper mood lately. My dronings have had the benefit of turning away many of my lurkers, though, so...win! If you bore them, they won't come. Which is a good thing. They were making me anxious.
seldomifever: (facepalm)
We were shopping at Costco today and this guy wanted to buy Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal.
His wife: "Absolutely not. That cereal is nothing but sugar."
Husband reads ingredients: "No, there's less than 10 grams."
Wife: "You're not buying it. It's no good."
Stranger walks past: "You better listen to your wife. That cereal causes cancer in children."
My kids: "Cereal causes cancer in children?!"
D'oh!

Watched Merlin tonight. It was as ham-handed as ever. I liked it. :)
seldomifever: (shut up)
Today! Drove to NJ to pick up our little girl at noonish, and on the way home, she asked if we could go into Manhattan. Hm. Why not? So we turned off at the Triboro Bridge and drove to the Met. Our ridiculously oversized SUV had no problemo fitting in the attached parking garage, so we jumped out and took the kids straight to the Egyptian wing, because we figured they'd be least bored there. Our youngest immediately asked if I had a pad and a pencil, and began sketching all of his favorite artifacts into my favorite Moleskine notebook. Must've filled a dozen pages, but I figured, eh, what the heck, I can always get another, and his enthusiasm was much more important than my desire to keep my book mine. By the time we got to the American wing, sons were finito benito. When they start whining, we start making silly jokes to keep them from falling apart. Works like a charm every time. The more absurd and offensive we are, the happier they get. The folks around us didn't seem to enjoy our Where's-Waldo-Are-those-dog-testicles-Ooh-look-Benjamin-Franklin's-about-to-shove-Abraham-Lincoln-off-that-cliff japes, but we had the kids howling. Erudition through scurrility. Feckin' brilliant. Anything for art appreciation's sake, dahlings. And to get kids to quit their gosh darn bitchin'.

Speaking of gosh darn, am I the only person who is starting to feel a little sorry for Sarah Palin? The Republican Party certainly wants her cut off at the knees. It's all her fault that McCain lost? Gimme a break!
seldomifever: (Default)
Just needed to get out of the house, I think, because now I'm in a much better mood. Took the kids out for lunch, which turned out to be outrageously expensive. Service was pretty crappy, too, but it's still better than cooking myself, so I'll keep the bitching to a minimum. Then we stopped into Sam Ash to check out distortion pedals. Left with a pile of new songbooks and an inexpensive mike and stand. Husband and older son have been dying to get their hands on one they could plug into the amps in the basement. I liked the stand, because it's really difficult to play guitar in Rock Band and sing at the same time. And forget tapping. Hrm. Don't know if the stand will actually help when it comes to that anyway, come to think of it.

Sorry. I just seem to be blathering for no reason. Really need to get housework done, but all I want to do is finish this piece I've been rewriting for weeks. Maybe I should just commit to finishing it, and then I can get back to the laundry, dishes, vacuuming, and mounds of other crap that are patiently waiting for my attention. All righty, then. It's a plan.
seldomifever: (manchild)
My sister stopped by yesterday with her four children. Adult children. And I told her how sad I've been this trip. How I can't stop thinking about Russell and Grammie and Jerry Marquess and all of the other people who are no longer with us. I said that I feel bad about the fact that my daughter is turning into a teen who doesn't seem to like me any more and how little progress my middle son seems to be making with his problems despite the years and years of effort I've put into him. She listened for a while and then said, "Oh, you're just upset because my kids are going away to college and I'm moving." One of her sons said to her, "Yeah, it's all about you." But you know, the minute she said it, I knew it was true. I bought the house around the block from them, because I loved her children like they were my own. I found myself unable to move away from them for the same reason, and now? "You hate change," she told me, and then went back to reading her email. Hrm. She's right. Awareness hasn't lessened my sadness, but giving it a name and a focus has definitely helped a bit. Cape Cod is often a cathartic experience for all of us, and I just need to sit back and let it work its magic.

In the meantime, I've been turning my kids on to the Beatles. Rock Banding has brought music back into our daily lives with a vengeance. We never drive anywhere without an ipod hooked into our car's speaker system, cranking out tunes like our own little traveling classic rock station. Abbey Road, my friends. "Because the world is round it turns me on"? Yes! Exactly!

This morning, I'm gonna give my children this gift, only it will have to be sans video, because dial-up is total crap. I need to get myself some sort of satellite connection. Husband says if I'm finally willing to turn in my five-year-old cell phone for a new one, we can get something that connects to my computer. I can't remember any of the details, except that I need to find a new phone. Wonder if that's something I can do up here, or if I have to wait 'til we get back home.
seldomifever: (landscape)
Pitter pitter. Pat. I'm feeling fairly exuberant today, though Christ knows why I'd wake up so chipper when I went to bed so gloomy. Sometimes the little shit just chips away at my efforts to remain upbeat and leaves me feeling crappy. I figure I can give in and wallow, which is often good masturbatory fun, or I can fight it and try to be positive in spite of the fact that people majorly suck giant moose cock. (Gross imagery, I know, but, strangely, fun to say.) I have resolved to not dwell on the relative meanness of some folks. Happiness is the order of the day. Translation: I'm gonna have realistic expectations regarding dieting, exercise, housework, children, pets, and writing. I've already made some kick-ass progress on the house, so I'm off to a good start. Think I'll write a bit while the kids are entertaining themselves watching wholly inappropriate television shows like South Park. S'a plan, Stan.

I'm resisting the biggest urge to drive into the city and eat yummy fruit at the Ritz, but that would be way too expensive and much, much too much effort, so I might just pop into my local grocery store and hope the fruit is all sweet to eat. May you find the same on this fine summery day.

Random link: Poppy protest songs never grow old. So glad this one actually worked out well. Guy's gonna be ninety. How cool is that?
seldomifever: (Default)
Went to Sam Ash and bought a drum set today. Son is so happy. He's been teaching himself to play for the past couple of months, and is dying to learn on a real set and not on his brother's Little Tikes drum or the ones that came with Rock Band. I've never seen this boy so driven. He practices drumming and playing the guitar for a couple of hours a day. He's even been working on the piano, which is unheard of, even though he's been taking lessons for 2 1/2 years.

We received our daughter's first letter today. Only took a week to get to us. She sounded very happy, so I am relieved. She's been playing soccer with the boys, because none of the girls in her group play. That's pretty odd, because everyone around here is crazy about soccer. When I was a kid, I was the only girl who played with the boys at recess, but nowadays, all the girls do, and there's really no such thing as a tomboy any more. I'm glad that she's not holding herself back from doing something she enjoys. And, she said that she ran circles around a lot of the boys, so she was really pleased with herself. Some English counselor dude made a big fuss over her. Adults always love her, but unlike me, she does not seem to love them back. She prefers people her own age. What's up with that?

I had to stop working on my story today. I absolutely hate it right now. I know that this is not unusual for me, so I will plow through it, but still. I want writing to be fun, not some form of torture. My therapist keeps trying to get me to see how counterproductive it is to be so hyper critical of myself all of the time. I wish I could just not care. Of course the irony is that I'm not a better writer for all of my suffering, just a paralyzed one. Well that blows. Think I'll meditate and regroup and try again. Or maybe I'll read some poetry. Or maybe take a walk. Sometimes I just have to get out of my head, and then I can come back and try again. Here's hoping.
seldomifever: (scruffy)
This website that we have to use to email daughter has a photo gallery. There are four pics of her. Three are of her back, but one is a close-up of her swimming and she's wearing this great big smile. I'm hopeful this means she's actually happy. I send her a note every night, but it's tough to have no clue what she's up to and how she's feeling. Boy, do I miss her like crazy, even though I've been very busy having fun with the boys. My oldest is thrilled that school is finally over. The change in his attitude from last week to this week is like night and day. He's genuinely happy again.

I took boys for yearly well visit at the pediatrician today. Doctor started asking youngest all sorts of questions--quizzing him on what he'd learned in kindergarten. Then he asked him, "What color was George Washington's white horse?" Son laughed and said "White." Doc then tells older son that a plane carrying Mexicans is flying from Mexico City to NY crashes and asks him where they bury the survivors. Older son says that you wouldn't bury survivors. I was secretly pleased that they got the answers right, cause honestly, I was sitting there thinking, "Hmm...Where would they bury the survivors?" D'oh!

We saw Get Smart yesterday. Older son and I giggled a whole lot throughout, but most of the other audience members did not. S'funny, cause I keep seeing these flicks that I'm really enjoying while I'm in the theater, but the minute I'm home, I can't remember almost a thing about them. What can I say? Silly, light fluff makeses me happy.

Spoke with old teacher friend at length last night. To me, he is still the sun and the moon and the stars, even though I have absolutely no desire to jump his bones like I did in my youth. My husband doesn't get it. Does not see why on earth I adore this guy like I do. Dunno. We just click. Like two peas in a pod. Like two halves of a whole. Like...Yeah, I agree. Enough already. Time for bed.

Buona notte, miei amici!
seldomifever: (b/g)
Our friends are coming today. I have to run around getting things ready for them. I think they'd appreciate fresh sheets and a well-vacuumed space, don't you? I also have to get kitty out of my daughter's room, cause that's where they will be sleeping. Means kitten'll have to spend most of his time in my room, which is not going to be easy, because he'll be jumping on our heads all night. My husband doesn't have a whole lotta patience for shinanigans these days, so I fear that if the kitten pounces on husband while he is sleeping, kitty will find himself being flung across the room. I just asked husband if he'd prefer to sleep in our son's room, away from the kitten tonight, and he snipped, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ah, I love when he's miserable at work. Adds a whole new and unexpected level of excitement to our otherwise dull and dreary lives.

Last full day of school for the boys and last, last day for daughter, so I am most pleased. Just have to get my happy-to-visit-with-good-friends vibe going for the next 30 hours, send in end-of-the-year teacher gifts, and then finish getting ready for camp. I can do this.
seldomifever: (oh)
Ooh, guys, I'm running out of steam fast. Been up since four working on my story, then ran to the grocery store for supplies for two ice cream parties, got kids ready and out to school, then ran to Target for camp/party supplies, then raced to Party 1, then Party 2, and now I've gotta get my boys over to the allergist, and then at six, I take the dog back to the vet. Fun fun fun. Still have to finish getting things ready for tomorrow's house guests. I even delegated a bit and asked husband to work from home, so he could bring daughter for camp/school well visit this afternoon. She has to bring prescriptions from the doctor in order to take anything at camp. Auro-dri, Pepto-Bismol, SUNTAN LOTION! I called the camp to say "What?" and the nurse in charge promised she wouldn't enforce the suntan lotion/bug spray prescription rule. What has the world come to? Is this all a result of living in such a litigious society? Another Class Mom told me that chaperons on field trips are now being sued if the kids they're responsible for get injured in any way. WTF? Crazy shit, dudes. All right. I'm off!
seldomifever: (giles/ru)
Took my daughter for a much needed pre-camp haircut. She looks loverly. She decided it was time for a radical new 'do, so she let Sean, our highly skilled hairdresser, choose whatever he thought would look best. Trouble with her having long hair was that she never wore it up, and between the hair and her glasses, you couldn't see beautiful face anymore. This cut is good, cause it's hip without being too sophisticated. She's still twelve, and I'd like to keep her looking somewhat her age while I still can. Men are beginning to notice her and I find it very unsettling. Thankfully, she's still slightly on the boys-are-gross side of things. We sat near the entrance/exit of the circus performers a couple of weeks ago, and several of them paid a little too much attention to her for my comfort level. And if she thinks I'm gonna take her to Italy one of these days like she keeps asking, she's pazza. I remember what those men were like there -- drop-dead gorgeous and completely incapable of grasping the concept "no thanks". Hrm. Maybe going to camp to learn to ride horsies and kiss boys doesn't sound like such a good idea after all.
seldomifever: (nice)
Radiohead's Creep came up on my play list, and I just remembered the parody my older son made of it this morning before going to school. Kid has got a great sense of humor, which is ironic, because he's such a miserable little boy in so many ways--always worried and anxious and easily overwhelmed. When he sleeps he often breaks out in these full belly laughs. Rarely whimpers or frets then, though he does have many nightmares. I hate that he has these problems, because he's such a super boy. Very creative and clever and funny and at the same time completely tortured. But he's growing. He's getting better, learning coping mechanisms. I hope he survives adolescence. He is a worry. Ah, enough of this.

I am making decent progress in all of the areas I'm working on in my life. This is good, because I'm seriously tired of having to feel like crap all of the time. I'm ready to feel good again, and I'm pretty sure I will any second now. An-y second. Right.

back to me

May. 14th, 2008 12:56 pm
seldomifever: (ash/smg)
Two children home today with various ailments and my throat's killing me. One has a fever and an ear infection, other may have strep. Again. Took him to the ENT this morning to find out wtf is going on. ENT loves me. I don't think in a sexual way. More like in a he just can't stop pawing and fawning over me kind of way. Like he might a cute pet, maybe? I've had very odd relationships with male doctors throughout my life. My son's been with me on office visits and has asked if the doctors wanted to marry me. Even husband noticed the one time he came with. I cannot explain it, but it's been this way for me since I was wee little. Had the same experience with male teachers. And tour guides, strangely enough.

Anyway, this guy says to me today, "You have wonderful common sense. Tell me, who are you voting for?" I said I liked Hillary, but she's not gonna make it. He said that he wasn't certain she was out. I asked if he liked her. He said, "I'm not sure who I'm voting for yet, that's why I asked you. You are so sensible." All right. That's just weird. Is he going to make his decision by polling his patients? Then he kept shaking my hand and holding it and patting my back. This is when son wanted to know if this doctor loved me like the other one does. I'm telling you, there is no explanation for this behavior. I am not attractive. Maybe it's the red hair and freckles (people love the look or hate it) or maybe it's just the incredible workings of my keen mind. *snickers* Dunno. Either way, it always surprises me when it happens, then leaves me feeling kind of good, because someone, somewhere seems to appreciate me. I'm a simple person.

Here's a new YouTube link for you. Love the song. Chose this vid over similar ones, cause it's the most benign. Edit: Ooh, I like this one even better.
seldomifever: (manchild)
Mrrmph. I'm all logy. Woken up last night 4 different times by 3 different people. Really must get the children to bother husband instead of me once in a while. I'm off to Quest Diagnostics for my weekly blood-letting. Joy joy. My daughter's last basketball game is this afternoon. Only took me until last week to stop choking up every time I watched her play. She's the most adorable creature that has ever walked this earth. She's learning this Solfeggietto piece for her upcoming NYSSMA recital. I picked her up after piano practice yesterday and she starts asking me about conjugating certain verbs in Italian. I had no clue what to say. I studied two years worth in college and have retained almost none of it, just like my four years of high school French. Anyway, she's saying how this verb ending made no sense if you take into consideration blacka lacka and blookie lookie. Um, okay. She's 12 and running circles around me already.
seldomifever: (nice)
My house has finally stopped asking me to look after it. I think it's dying. Suffocating under heaps of toys and laundry. Haven't touched the clothes in two days, which means the piles in the basement have prolly reached the ceiling. Mrr. I hate housework. Makes my head ache. Whiny, whiny pantses.

Last night, my husband and I conferred with our youngest's teacher. He's wonderful, she wishes she had a class full of hims, life would be glorious. I warned her of his seasonal allergies and she told the nurse and the nurse called me today to discuss. They may have to keep him indoors for recess. Poor little piker. May's the best month of the year, and he's trapped inside in air conditioning. I guess we could get him those shots my husband used to get to protect him from the next bee sting. Good grief, that sounds a little nightmarish.

We left the school last night and headed straight for my ex-brother-in-law Kathryn's father's wake. Kathryn was so happy we were all there. Bowled over by the love. He kept saying how horrible it was to lose his dad, but how wonderful it was to see that we still love him. As if I could stop. Ever. He was a lousy husband and father and is not a terribly attractive woman, but I've adored him since I was twelve. I can't turn that off, even if I am angry that he hurts other people with his selfishness. I'd like to see him again soon. He's completely brilliant and totally emotionally retarded. Sounds like half the feckin' world.

Speaking of which...I had my first therapy session in ten years. Why the heck did I wait so long? The guy was all "Wow, I rarely make such progress in the first session." Yeah, well, I have few skills. Examining my navel is one of them. And I'm not committed to remaining fucked up forever. That helps.
seldomifever: (Default)
Spent the morning at that fucking jackass pediatric gastro's seminar. I couldn't stop giggling. Arrogant fuck. But you know what? He's right. Knows he's right. Why shouldn't he be a pompous dick about it, I guess. He's like "you're here because no one else can help you." True 'nuff. Seen so many doctors who are total crap. I really believe this one's on target, even if I despise him. But now we come to the true test--seeing if I can follow through and take on my kids' problems like an adult, and not like the permissive dope I've let myself become. Which is not to say that I'm suddenly going to turn into a hard ass. I just think that in some cases the benefits of being more strict outweigh the personal cost to me. I've known I was wrong for quite some time. Just kind of needed a kick in the pants to see things more clearly. It's a good thing. One of those realizations that applies to many different aspects of my life.
seldomifever: (landscape)
Let my sister read my unfinished fic, and she said, "Don't change a thing." I told her I wasn't through. She said I was. Hrm. Don't know what I should do. Beta would like to see more, so I probably will continue. I keep thinking of that line from Six Degrees of Separation: When asked why all the artwork the kids produced in her class was so good, the teacher explained that she knew when to take the paper away. Hm. Plus, once I let the fantasy of actually being finished wend its way through me, I realized how relieved I was to finally be able to read fanfic again. Can't seem to do both.

We drove past a church yesterday and my son wanted to know why religious places always had a big "t" on them. Clearly, I have done something wrong.

And lastly, two of my sister's Orthodox co-workers have announced that if it's between Obama and McCain, they'll be voting for McCain. They told my sister his parents were Muslim extremists, which I, even in my woefully uninformed state, know to be untrue. It begins.
seldomifever: (facepalm)
Was going to post littlest's funny Clillary Hilton comments today, but I fear kid stories are just off-putting.

Husband is taking tomorrow off, so hip hip, though it's s'pposed to snow. :( Good day for cleaning the house and working on my story. It's...progressing. The problem I have is that I'm just incapable of writing. Words fail me. It's a small technicality, and one I expect to overcome any day now. Yes, indeedy do. An-y day.

In the meantime, find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real.
seldomifever: (oh)
I ran into a woman I've known for 10 years over at the bloodwork place this morning. She was a bigwig on the PTA and at the cooperative nursery school we sent our children to. We have a friendly, stop and chat relationship. Anyway, today she's at the place having a glucose test, cause of an unexpected pregnancy. She starts telling me all about how it's God's will. Not an unusual convo for these parts. But then she tells me about how she had her palm read twenty-something years ago and that the fortune-teller had predicted a fourth pregnancy. And then she says her sister called into a psychic hotline and chatted with their deceased mother and how this pg had been foretold by her mom. And then she brought up Ouija boards, like all the things she's telling me are completely normal.

When people talk about this stuff, I'm always left wondering if they really believe what they are saying. She's an educated woman. I don't really understand it. And she's also quite religious. Catholic, I would imagine, since about 99% of the population around here are. Doesn't this hocus pocus somehow go against Christian teachings? How does the church feel about seers? Isn't that stuff sort of paganistic? Hrm. Regardless, I am happy for her. She's good people.

My daughter went on this class trip to the Poconos Environmental Educational Center last year, and someone had brought a Ouija Board. My daughter said that a bunch of girls freaked over this and climbed on a top bunk and began chanting something to keep the evil spirits away. "Chanting?" I asked. She said, "Yeah, it was weird." "Were they praying?" "I don't know," she said, "but they all knew the words: hail something or other."

When my daughter was little, we pulled into a parking space at the grocery store, and she looked over into the car parked next to us, pointed to a Baby Jesus with Mary statue that rested on its dashboard, and said, "Look, Mom, it's Sacagawea!"

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