Posts from — March 2009

You’re way too young to know who Peter Brady is, seeing as how there are fresh deli sandwiches that are older than you but all day today I’ve walked around sounding a whole lot like he did on that Brady Bunch episode where they try to sing that corny song about “When it’s time to change you’ve got to rearrANGE.”  My vocal chords have rebelled against all the scrape-age of my coughing and AHEMing the last two days, making my job at the preschool a little more challenging. And even though I can already tell you are not going to be the type of kid who needs to be told “DON’T SIT ON THE BABY,” I’ll go ahead and tell you that it’s a phrase that loses quite a bit of its urgency when wheezed.

Why am I telling you all of this nonsense about my voice?  Well, because my condition is kind of your fault, young man.  For two reasons.  ONE: see, your mom is a good friend of mine.  A really good friend.  And there have been at least two occasions in our friendship where she has stayed up all night because of me or someone related to me (i.e. Noah the Nonsleeper).  And these two situations created a very convenient excuse for me to be available for the all night and day of labor that she went through with you.  Convenient because I could say that “I owed her” when in reality a pack of Iditarod-bound Alaskan huskies could not have kept me away from the hospital while you were trying to make your grand entrance.  So the night of no sleep (after a few nights of very little sleep due to your good friend Rosie whom you haven’t met yet) kind of handicapped my immune system a little.  And so: the hoarseness.

But really, it’s reason TWO that did me in.  Turns out that your voice doesn’t last long when you tell the story of The Birth of Sam to every person you lay eyeballs on. (And by the way, the lady who took my money when I signed Noah up for soccer was TOTALLY JAZZED that you were born.  I think her exact words were: “That’s great honey.  Checks should be made out to Decatur Rec.”)

I’m just really really glad you’ve come, if that’s not apparent.  Your mom is like the Champ of all Champs of Baby Birthing, which is a good thing, since you took about twenty seven hours to come out.  Your dad made the observation that your mom probably experienced twice as many contractions with you as I ever did with my two kids combined, and I would have to concur.  I would also have to add: DADGUM, KID.

But you want to know something funny?  Even though she’d been awake for thirty-six hours and hadn’t eaten for nineteen and had just served as a portal for your eight pound six ounce chunk of a body, when I went in to meet you for the first time, your mom held you with her face beaming and peaceful as if the previous day had never happened.  Love will mess with your brain like that.  “I think he might be perfect,” she said.  And as someone who just happens to be an expert on perfect kids, I think she might be right.

So I guess I’ll forgive you for the whole lost voice thing, seeing as how you’re perfect. Perfect, and also blessed beyond measure for being born to a whole host of people who would gladly have their brains addled with love for you.

You may have been  born during an economic crisis, but the world is undoubtedly richer now that you’re in it.  Welcome.

Due to work ramping up and looming deadlines at L’s job, I’ve been sort of single-parenting it again this week and I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but hey! Single-parenthood is not an ideal environment for blog upkeeping!  Still, I start to get a little tic in my facial muscles when it’s been a couple of days since I’ve posted and so today all you’re going to get is this drivel, because it’s that or the drugs, people, and I am anti-drug because Nancy Reagan told me to JUST SAY NO. (On Punky Brewster!  Do you remember that episode?  Also, do you remember the one where Cheri got trapped inside a refrigerator during hide and seek and passed out and then there was a Big Moral Lesson about how you should never hide in appliances?  GOD I wanted to be Punky Brewster!  That show taught me all my Important Life Lessons!)

ANYWAY OMG.

I don’t really have much to say of interest.  Our kitchen has an ant infestation.  It’s amazing how seeing something so tiny can throw me into such a giant fit of rage.  And it’s never a whole bunch of ants, just one or two.  It’s like they are deliberately messing with me.  It’s probably the same five or six ants, high school ants, senior prank pulling ants.  Bastards.

Also, our kitchen faucet is broken, meaning that every time we turn it on it showers us from about four different directions.  You would think this would deter the ants, but they are doggedly determined in their aimless counter wandering.  Again: bastards.

I mean, really, what do ants do?  Are they important?  Do we really need ants?  Do they kill other critters for us?  Do they pollinate anything? Will they do my taxes? No, they are just crumb carrying crawly pests who raise my blood pressure to unhealthy levels and I am over them.  YOU HEAR THAT ANTS? I’M OVER YOU. There’s about to be some ant trap action up in this house with a side of Raid and violent smooshing.  And if I see even one of you after that, I’m strapping on the blowtorch.  YEEEEEEEHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Bluh. L, please come home soon.

As I mentioned the other day, my iPod tunes rank right up there with air and feet when it comes to Things That I Must Have In Order To Run.  I’m starting to think that it’s my true key to success in this whole mind block I’ve always had about pounding the pavement for more than, oh, half a block or so.  In fact, if iPods had been invented when I was in high school, maybe I wouldn’t now carry the shame of missing passing the physical fitness test by only one category every single year.  (DAMN YOU, YOU DASTARDLY MILE RUN.)

I also can’t emphasize how much I appreciate L’s efforts to rid my iPod of his unique choices for running music (OMG) and to fill it instead with stuff I can get my jog on to.  And I wanted to share with you some of my favorites so far.

You should check these songs out even if you aren’t a runner, because you never know when you might need a good tune to help you complete a task.  Like doing your taxes.  Or flossing.  And so:

Great starting out songs:

LDN (Lily Allen)
Beautiful Day (U2)

Cruising along songs (“Cruising” while running only happens for about 30 seconds for me right now, but these songs are totally awesome for that 30 seconds.):

Crazy (Gnarls Barkley)
Rainy Day (Coldplay)

Songs that will push you through a hard spot (Like the end of your run when you are pretty sure your shoes are made of ANVILS):

Gotta Get Thru This (Daniel Bedingfield)
Lose Yourself (Eminem)*

*after the first slow part, which sucks.

Songs that are nice to have on when you have to pass a leering 5-man lawn crew and their exhaust spewing blowers and mowers THREE TIMES on a loop that contains the biggest hill God ever made:

Hollaback Girl (Gwen Stefani)

Hit me up any time with more suggestions of your own.