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I’m having an up-and-down week. Or rather, a down-and-up-and down week. But I’ll be on vacation soon, and then it will all go away. Right?
There’s some sensitive family stuff going on, and it’s got me down (extended family, not the kids). There’s also the fact that two of my co-workers told me they’re pregnant this week–and one of them is likely not going to be able to sustain the pregnancy, due to some pre-existing health conditions. So I’m happy for the one who is expanding her family, and grieving with the one who may not be.
And there’s the complicated fact that, although my blog is still pseudonymous, some of you know who I am and we’re connected on Facebook. And some of the people that I’m talking about in this post are also on Facebook. So let’s keep this stuff between you and landismom, not you and that other chick. I don’t need a repeat of last year’s Facebook drama.
I’m visiting my mom and her husband with the kids this week. My step-father had some serious health challenges earlier in the summer, which meant that my mom postponed a planned visit to us, and here I am. Landisdad, that bastard, had plans for this whole weekend, so in a moment of folly I thought, “why don’t I take the kids to the middle of Red-State-that-I-Hate (h/t jo(e))?”
Inevitably, when I go to visit my mother, I spend a couple of days beforehand wondering how she will piss me off (and if my step-father’s going to be there, what he will say that will be so patently offensive that I won’t be able to let it slide). Since my mom has been married to my step-father, she’s turned into the kind of person who can only tell a story about a person of color by mentioning their race (I’ve thought about starting all my stories with “so I was standing in line next to this white woman” but I’m not sure she’d get it). My step-father, on the other hand, is just an old-school racist.
When I made the plan to come down here, I got a motel. I know better than to stay with them and my kids for four days. We need a buffer zone. This one is about a half-hour from their house, so it’s a pretty big buffer.
Last night, we went over there for dinner. When we got there, my step-father was sitting in front of his ginormous tv, watching Fox News, which he turned off just to come to the dinner table. We had a fine, incident-free dinner, then my mom suggested that we go see “Bedtime Stories,” which was playing in their retirement community’s clubhouse. Again, fine. The kids got a little squabbly in the car after the movie was over, but that’s to be expected after a long day of traveling.
We dropped off my mom, and the Potato ran in to use their bathroom—when we got inside, my step-father was still sitting in front of Faux News (“WILL THE DEMOCRATS MANAGE TO DESTROY THE COUNTRY & LIFE AS WE KNOW IT WITH SOCIALIST HEALTH CARE REFORM?!?”). As we were leaving, my step-father said, “Have fun over there (at the motel) with the rednecks!” The Potato asked, “what does that mean?”
Sigh.
It means we’re not done avoiding my step-father for another visit.
wondering if I am only able to blog in 140 character updates from now on. Has my attention span shortened that much?
Every once in a while, I overhear another parent saying goodbye to their child, as I drop mine off.
Yesterday, I heard someone say a thing that I have literally never, ever considered saying to my children:
“Don’t give in to Satan.”
I’m thinking it might be new parenting theory that I should adopt.
and why is Firefox so concerned that I update it?
Heh. Put your picture into Obama’s logo.
http://logobama.com
Why is it, do you suppose, that the tendency for near-sightedness (or other vision problems) stayed with humans, through the evolutionary process.
Doesn’t it seem like the gene for good vision would have been more successful than it seems to have been? Maybe it’s multiple genes for multiple vision disorders, but still.Do you think that animals have as many vision problems as humans do? And if not, is it because their eye-brain connection, or their eye structure, is somehow less complicated?
Sometimes I wonder how I would have survived to adulthood, if I had been born in a time without any kind of corrective lenses. And if I (or rather, my great-to-the-nth-power grandmother) didn’t survive, how did she pass on this horrible vision?
It doesn’t seem to me that humans have over-developed our other senses to make up for the fact that our sight is so downright undependable. And we’re a prey animal, as well as a predator. It’s hard to imagine other prey animals (say, gazelles) running into trees or something because their distance vision isn’t good. Or if they did, then they’re certainly not living to pass down that trait.
I’m starting to think that I might not be good at making friends anymore. We had two parties to go to this weekend, both of which involved lots of new people, and I really didn’t feel like talking to any of them.
Maybe it’s not that I’m not good at making friends, but I just don’t want any new ones.
I’m tired of feeling like I’m losing track of people. I made a vow this year that I would try to have lunch with a friend at least once a month, and I’m not sure that I’m keeping it, so far.
I find it really hard to balance work and parenthood and being a good friend. Adding new people will surely only make me feel guiltier.
Part of my problem is that I used to see a lot of my work-friends at meetings, but as I’ve moved into more of a statewide job, I don’t have as much time to go to meetings locally as I once did. I mean, hell, this is the first post I’ve put up in a week–I don’t even have time to blog any more! Another part of the problem is that most of my friends are as busy as I am.
Sometimes, I wonder what it will be like, when the kids are grown enough that every day isn’t a rush to pick them up from school, to get home and do homework, eat dinner, have some quality family time. Will I then be able to go out to a casual dinner with friends, the kind that right now takes a month of planning to arrange?
Sometimes I think I should just work harder at maintaining my friendships. After all, how will I have friends left to have casual dinners with, if I’m not working hard to cultivate those friendships now?
How do you keep your friendships going, in the face of all the other competing pressures?
that I dreamt I was playing scrabulous last night?
I might have a problem…
My favorite dad-blogger, MetroDad, wrote a post last week that I really enjoyed which consisted of questions to other parents. I liked it so much, I’m ripping it off.
Why does my daughter insist on wearing her batting helmet onto the field when she’s playing softball? Is this a sign that she’s destined to be one of the uncool kids?
If a four-year-old boy and a gnat are in the same room, which one will get distracted first? What if there are legos in the room? How does the equation change if there are dinosaurs? Train sets?
Is it wrong for me to refuse to let my children watch the movie Alvin & The Chipmunks in a movie theater, and instead Netflix it so that I don’t have to be in the same room with that singing?
Is it a sign that I’m getting old that I can no longer listen to my beloved hip hop, because I can’t listen to one more song that references a stripper pole? Didn’t there used to be lots of popular music that didn’t talk about strippers?
When I’ve repeatedly warned a certain child that she’s going to be late to her softball game if she doesn’t put her cleats on right now, why is it my fault when she actually is late?
Which of the following scenarios is likely to happen soonest: 1) the parents who decide that it’s okay for them to block the entrance to the daycare with their cars will have a change of heart or 2) the Potato will enter kindergarten and stop going to daycare?
At what age will I stop carrying crayons with me everywhere that I go?
When I finally do break down and get a cell phone for my kid (which is still years in the future), what will she set her sights on next, a fake ID?
Is the rate at which a child outgrows a pair of pants directly related to the amount of money that one spent on those pants?
If you only have one pen in your purse, and that pen is hot pink and has a Polly Pocket doll on the end, is it acceptable to use that pen in a meeting? with your boss?
At what age can I expect that my child will use the bathroom when he needs to, instead of insisting that he doesn’t need to pee while hopping up and down in a frantic manner?
If a child’s friend, when entering one’s house for the first time, exclaims, “this is the messiest house I’ve ever been in!,” is it socially acceptable to send her home with a dust-bunny in her pocket?
Answers in the comments—or questions of your own—are welcome!
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