Sprinkles

SCARY DAY!

Went to Chick-Fil-A during the lunch hour. Took my five year old. She was chomping at the bit to spend a little time in the germ-infested playroom. I haven’t been there in a really long time.

When we first walked in I noticed the place was packed. It was incredibly loud with little voices reverberating off the walls. There was also a multitude of strange bouncing balls of energy. They were different sizes and shapes and they were bouncing plainly off the floor. I panicked for a second, thinking I had accidentally wound up in Chucky Cheese Hell.

We don’t go there anymore since my son was three and peed inside the tubing six feet off the floor after he refused for three hours to come down. I finally had to squeeze my big, just had the second baby butt, up into the tubing and drag him kicking, screaming and dripping all the way back down...but that's a whole nother Oprah!

Back at Chick-Fil-A, the first thing DD (Darling Daughter) noticed were the ice-cream cones they were handing out. There is also a “Sprinkle” station set up where the little darlings can empty an entire bottle of sugar on top of their ice cream. That’s when I realized the bouncing balls of energy were actually children who were sugared up, high as kite!

I got our meals and found an out of the way table in the corner, while DD skipped off to play in the enclosed glass cage. It’s kind of like watching monkeys at the zoo. You can see them laugh and play, fight and cry but you can’t hear a single sound. I happily began stuffing those fat-free waffle fries in my mouth while I gazed around the room.

Sitting next to me was a table of three mothers. I have no idea how many children they actually had because they only occasionally bounced back to the table at random times. The kids were running around the restaurant, getting their own soda refills, and pouring milk on one another. The mothers never looked at them once. It was a complete free for all.

I looked at the mother who was sitting directly across from me; actually I was staring at her. She never noticed. She was glassy-eyed and fixated on the adult conversation that was happening at her table. That’s when it hit me. In the early stages of motherhood, when the sheer delight at being able to stay home wears off, you realize that watching a six month old in her saucer suck on the little wobbly bee just isn’t very fascinating!

You crave the adult conversation so badly, that when you hit the big PAY DAY and end up in a kid friendly restaurant with not one but TWO other adults who are willing to listen to you, there’s no way in HELL you’re going to pull yourself away unless that kid next to you throws up in your lap; truthfully, maybe not even then.

After DD finished wallowing with the monkeys and ate a few bites of her sandwich she was ready for that ice cream. She’s pretty shy so I have to make her do things on her own. I sent her up to the counter to ask for herself.

You won’t believe this part… seriously, I was floored…

They won’t give you a free ice cream unless you TRADE IN the book they just gave you as a prize in the kid’s meal. They are making kids decide between a book and an ice cream cone with sugar topping! And we wonder why our kids are illiterate! Let me just tell you as a writer and a big reader I was less than pleased when she came back near tears.

There wasn’t any way I was going to make her give up a book for that treat, so I went to the counter to buy her a cone. When I asked for the kid’s cone, the guy tells me, “If she gives back the book she can have it free.” It took everything in me not to jump across the counter and choke the poor sucker.

“Yep, she told me,” I said, “But she doesn’t want to give up the book, so I’ll just buy the cone.”

The place erupted like I had just asked for all the money out of the register. “Did ja hear that? Kid don’t want to give up her book.”

"What? But it’s for a FREE ICE CREAM!”

“I better get the manager.”

I bent down to my DD and asked her, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to Dairy Queen?”

“But Mama, I want to do my own sprinkles.”

“We could go to the store, you could have a quart of ice cream and a whole jar of sprinkles to yourself.”

"I just want those sprinkles.”

So, I stuck it out, waited for the manager. Explained to him, she didn’t want to trade in her book for a cone. Told him I just wanted to buy the damn thing. He gave me the roll of the eyes and slight but noticable shake of the head, but he gave her the cone and didn’t charge me. Hallelujah!

Guess what DD said after one lick of the cone?

“Mama, I really don’t like the sprinkles.”

For Steph

ass over teacup
that’s where we all lie
when life has surprised us
with questions of why

ass over teacup
when our spiritual side
hides in the darkness
where misfortune resides

ass over teacup
so much easier to be
than facing the hurt
or attempting to flee

ass over teacup
can’t take a stand
it takes a village
when the shit hits the fan

ass over teacup
help’s on the way
your heart calls out
what your voice can’t say

ass over teacup
maybe you, maybe me
the blink that is life
makes it impossible to see

Blog Errors

Cujo won't format correctly. Sorry, get through it without the paragraphs.

Cujo

Menace to Society! No not the girl, although she TOTALLY is, the dog. That's what my vet called him yesterday. We just lovingly refer to him as Cujo.

Come on, I mean he just tried to eat the vet. Aren't they used to that kind of thing?

I knew, he was going to. I saw the signs. The morning walk to the bus stop was a complete disaster. He grabbed a hold of the leash for a little tug of war. Knocking me clean into a snow bank. The poor kid that waits with us is afraid of dogs. Nothing like a little Menace to Society to root that fear clear into therapy as an adult. I watch his eyes getting wider as the dog yanks me off balance. Clearly no control.

I'm not completely irresponsible. He tried to eat another guy in the neighborhood a while back. That's when I recognized the problem. We've been to PetSmart training classes twice. The first time as a little puppy. He passed with flying colors. The second time, not so much.

He has a very stubborn disposition, and he just WON'T stay. Can't really step up to the "go to your bed," without knowing how to stay first. Besides the fact the trainer didn't really want me to let go of the leash in the store for fear he would ingest one of the other dogs. Why do people buy little dogs anyway? I always assumed they were meant to be a snack.

The vet seriously lectured me for about 20 minutes on the dangers of having an unpredictable dog. Then she handed me the pamphlet for the Bark Busters dog trainers. They come to your house and give you a life time guarantee. If at anytime in the dog's life he reverts back to bad behavior or he picks up some other undesirable trait, they will come out for free and fix him again. While she was telling me this all I could hear was Ka-Ching, Ka-Ching.

My darling hubby would rather shoot this dog than spend another dime on him. Guess it's time to pull out the Bambi voice again. Does anyone know the Dog Whisperer? I betcha he wouldn't even be able to shush this dog.

Oops!

Most embarrassing moment of 2009.

Decided today after running to call hubby about a little love time. You know... kids back in school, Hubby's in the basement pretending to work. I figured we could use a little break.

I pick up the phone and dial him. Yes, I'm upstairs, he's in the basement. I could have shouted at him from the top of the stairs, but I thought this would be more fun. A little sexy afternoon caller, what a GREAT idea.

He answers, I launch full blown into my "Bambi voice" offering some very inventive and specific ideas if he would just like to come up the stairs to join me.

One problem... I dialed the wrong number.

I spent the next 10 minutes trying to convince this random guy at the other end of the line that I was not crank calling him and he should definitely NOT call the police.

These sorts of things really don't happen to other people, do they?

Kids in School ~ Lets RUN!!

Kids are back in school. This officially begins the New Year! Hubby took them to the bus stop because it's FREEZING cold today and I am a spoiled princess who wouldn't be happy standing at the bus stop.

So, the second they walk their little bus, bound, booties out the door, I decide to change into my running clothes and get started on this whole Boulder Boulder goal. 6 miles, (actually, a little more than 6, but my friend waited until I'd had a couple of martinis to tell me that little tidbit) in under 60 minutes. Yep, that's the goal...

Today however, it wasn't pretty...

The first mile, listening to a little Katy Perry ~ I kissed a girl, great song, a little Pink! the new Funhouse CD. Totally great running music, really getting into it now. I think, "I love running, how come I haven't been doing this everyday?"

Mile two rolls around a little slowly. I'm at 30 minutes already. This is when I usually stop. "But I'm motivated today, I'm doing at least 4 miles." I have a cold so the coughing was a little distracting. About 2 and 1/2 miles and the dog needed to be let in, so I jumped off and jogged to the door. "Wow, my legs are a little sore."

Gwen Stephani comes on, Wind it Up! I love this one, I can keep going. I start out at a good pace. "hmmm... my legs really are tired already, maybe I'll fast walk... Why am I doing this?"

Mile 3 comes up. "I think I may need to throw up. Okay, it's taken me longer than I wanted but I only have one mile left, right? Lets try Queen that always gets me going..." Bicycle Race is my ultimate running song. When they get to the part, "On your marks, get set, GO." I run like there is a boogie man chasing me. I'm gonna win this damn race if it kills me. But, not today...

I barely get through the, "You say Black, I say White. You say Bark, I say Bite." Nope, this isn't gonna work today. Let's switch to a Salt-N-Peppa, Push it. Not even that could get me going in that last mile.

As 3 1/2 miles slowly turned up on the display, I had to grab onto the bars on both sides to avoid spilling off the back side of the treadmill and landing in a heap. I ended the 4 miles listening to SpongeBob, The Best Day Ever, because I couldn't let go of the bars to change the song. I'll have to thank my son for adding that to my running music later.

The New Year has begun. If I wasn't such a Pollyanna, look at the bright side, kinda person, today would have been the last day for that little resolution, but I am Pollyanna, and I think by May she will be able to run 6.25 miles in 60 minutes, even if it kills her.

Firemen Butterflies and New Years Resolutions

“Firemen know the precarious line we walk between life and death. That is a lesson.”

I went to Brian Kopp’s funeral yesterday. He was a fireman who died trying to save a friend in an avalanche. I know his wife. His kids go to our school. This is just one of the things said yesterday which made an impression on me, that I want to keep.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could just keep that in mind, ALL THE TIME? The line is thin. We walk it everyday. One-day, things seem just as they have always been, and the next they are completely changed forever. My heart goes out to the family. I feel I know a lot of what they will go through over the next couple of years. Not as a wife, but as a close supporter.

The New Year is upon us. I’ve talked to many friends and family about New Years resolutions. What’s it gonna be this year? Climb a mountain, lose 20 pounds, quit smoking or drinking? Lots of good intentions out there in the first few days. I refuse to even start my New Years Resolutions until later. Why hurry?

Really, my goals are pretty much the same as in the past. I would like to become published. I want to write more, appreciate life more, have more fun. The new one’s this year are few, but BIG! I want to get a tattoo. I have it all picked out and I’m ready to go! My sister and I are getting matching tattoos, only in different places and different colors. Basically the same, we’re getting Butterflies. There is a great story behind this. I think I’ll digress to share…

When we were kids, I was standing outside of our 1950’s brick, ranch style mansion, by myself. A butterfly flew into the yard. I watched it for a while and then I lifted my hand up and the butterfly landed on my hand. I went inside yelling that a butterfly landed on my hand and my sister being... you know, older and wiser, yelled at me to shut up! She insisted there wasn’t any way that had happened.

I drug her outside and stood waiting. The butterfly flew over and landed on my hand a second time. I smiled smugly and went inside the house. From the curtains I could see her trying tirelessly to get a butterfly to land on her hand also. But alas, that was not to be!

20 years later, I was telling that story to someone and Lisa started shouting at me like a crazy banshee. She claims the butterfly landed on her hand in the first place not mine. Well, let me tell you, she’s crazy! She likes to steal my thoughts and my memories and claim they are her own. I know it’s not entirely her fault, being so close in age, some things seem to overlap. Besides that, she clearly has a screw loose.

Back to my goals for the year…

I want to run the Boulder Boulder, this one came from a friend, who encouraged me to join her. She runs it every year. I would love to do this! I would love to be committed enough to run it in under 60 minutes. That’s my friend’s goal so I have adopted it. A little lofty for my first year, but I think I can do it.

Besides that I just want to appreciate my friends and family more. Whenever a tragedy strikes I always have the same thoughts, “I wonder what was the last thing she said to him. What did he say to her? What will the kids remember as the last time with their dad.”

It makes such an impression on me, like the last few seconds are more important somehow than the millions and trillions of seconds before. I know that’s not how it works. I just hope when I die, or someone really close to me goes, my last encounter with the people I’ve loved is a great one. I hope I wasn’t bitchy, or condescending, or rude. I hope I was gracious, loving and understanding.

Let’s face it sometimes I am bitchy, condescending and rude. The only way to increase my chances in those last moments, is to try and become a calmer, better person. That’s made it to the list for 2009 too.

One last thing that fits in here perfectly, the fireman buddy that was eulogizing Brian said, even when Brian ruffled some feathers, if he was condescending or didn’t say things the way he would have wanted to, he always went back afterwards and tried to fix it. He apologized and in certain times admitted he was wrong. I think that’s a big lesson too! We aren’t perfect people, we all make mistakes, what a better place it would be if we learned to make up for the things we do wrong.

One LAST THING… My heart also goes out to John Travolta for losing his son. My aunt spent time with him on the set of Wild Hogs and says he is an incredible person, very loving and sincere. I imagine there can’t be anything worse than losing a child, I feel very sorry for him and his wife.