Offspring Story of the Day

Mags: Mama, I want to have a baby come out of my tummy.
Me: Uhh....well! Were you reading about Mrs. Dr. Doctor with Daddy?
Mags: Yeah! And the baby comes out your yoni!
Me: That's right!
Mags: And I came out *your* yoni!
Me: Yes you did. But you were much smaller then. You know who has a baby in her tummy? Aunty L!
Mags: (pause) Umm, let's jump on the bed!

And then....

My meds kicked in. Whew!

Coming apart

Did I really say I was starting to feel like I was getting a handle on things? I guess that staement is true -- if by getting a handle on things, I really meant 'feel wildly out of control'. Then yes, that's exactly where I'm at.

Oh, gotta run, I am of course running late, have not had breakfast, and still need to pot 10 plants before going to class! Then I've got 400 hours of homework to complete before I go away for the weekend! Hahahahahaha!

*thud*

Balance and Routine

Both of which I could use more of right now.

The begining of week four yawns before me at school (and I mean yawns - god DAMN but that computer class is deathly dull!) I'm just now starting to feel like I'm getting my groove back. I'm definitely glad to be back, don't get me wrong. I've been catching up on the gossip with all my teachers, several students have expressed what seems to be genuine happiness to see me again, I've met a bunch of new and less-irritating students than some of the ones I left behind, and my brain is finally getting use beyond Blue's Clues.

But it has been tough getting back into the swing of things. First it was that late night schedule I had to snap out of. Of course, I didn't get into that mode until the last month before I went back to school - oh, the unfairness of it all! Obviously that made making an 8am class a bit of a challenge. I'm feeling better about it, and while I'm still not thrilled about it, its happening.

Then there was my attempt to take the bus to and from school. Sure, I'll be a good hippie and save wear and tear on the car! Turns out theres a sometimes-express bus that goes from two blocks from my house to towo blocks from school. Killer! you'd think. Sure, killer in that in order to catch it on time to get to school I need to leave the house at 6:15 in the morning, and killer in that the constant starting and stopping of the bus made me have motion sickness nearly nonstop for the hour long ride. That happened just once. Now, I try to ride the train. I still need to leave the house around 6:30, but its about 3 billion times more pleasant. And I still get my hippie badge.

Homework, ye black hole of free time. I'm still trying to figure out when to get it all done so that I'm not doing it the night before its due, not doing it on my day off, and not doing it while Mags is around. Starting to get a better feel for it, especially after Husband and I worked out who's ok watching Mags when and for how long. Frees up a lot of time, and now with less guilt!!

Then there's Mags. She's now in daycare 4 days a week. Through last week, that meant Mon-Thurs. That also meant if i stayed late at school on Monday to do work, then I did not see her Tuesday am, she'd sleep at J&E's Tues pm, and they'd take her straight to daycare Wed. Sure, I'd see hger Wed pm, but then she was right back in daycare on Thursday. It was/is creeping me out., and its been pretty rough on said daughter as well. She cries when anyone besides me picks her up now, and she's extra clingy at home. I realize this is reality for many many families out there, and it just feels freaky to me. This week we're switching Thursday and Friday, so I'll still get my day off, but it breaks up the not-seeing-Mags-for-4-days string.

There's some ironing out that needs to happen until there's really flow again, and I'm not suprised to discover it. I just hope it happens sooner rather than later.

Eavesdropping

I overheard a fascinating conversation in the computer lab. Two students were chortling about some guy they knew, who wanted to make an 'earth sandwich'. His idea was to slap a piece of bread on the ground at exact opposite sides of the globe at the same time. I think there was going to be some photodocumentation involved too. Anyhow, in order to determine exactly where the other side of the earth was, he whipped up some program that used Google Earth. You'd enter your address, and the program would use the Google framework to determine where this other point was. That way you knew where to contact someone to help you. Genius!

There was much raving about how cool his idea was, what a great idea it was, yadda yadda. I found myself struck by an extrovert moment and I blurted out, "Its the coolest idea since sliced bread!" Their laughter faltered a bit as their eyes stared blankly back at me. Luckily I had been enroute to the door, so I was able to make a somewhat graceful exit.

I thought it was funny, anyhow.... see, 'cause you need bread to make a sandwich, right?....

sigh.

Poor Nut

We have got one sick kid on our hands. The past two days she has just been a whiny, crabby ball of irritation. It briefly crossed my mind this morning, huh, maybe she's not feeling well, but she'd still been eating, no fever, no nothing to indicate any sort of problem. Never mind that our daycare provider informed us that one of the other kids went home early on Thursday with an ear in fection and pink eye. No, I had forgotten all of that.

This morning, Mags woke up om the wrong side of bed. Truly, I was ready to donate her for a charitable tax write-off by 10 am. We - Husband, Mags and I - drove to the city to cruise one of the aquariums with Mr. and Mrs. Booty and their little girl Diamond Lil. It was a great outing. The girls entertained each other wonderfully, and we actually got in some grown up conversation of our own. We all proceeded to a fairly posh lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant, which played one of my favorite house music albums for the entire duration we were there (A Night at tht Playboy Mansion, in case anyone cares.) Predicably, Mags passed out in the car on the way home, as we overshot her nap, and obligingly allowed herself to be put straight to bed when we got home. I too laid down for a nap, and we both got up at 5pm. Again, Mags was Cranky McWhines-a-Lot when she awoke, and for the following hour and a half until we went to hang out with Joj and Eric. She then proceeded to be super whiny there too, complaining of being cold and just wanting to be held a lot.

After about an hour of this, she actually started to develop a fever, and all the pieces clicked. And boy, did I feel like a grade-A Shitty Parent. I never really lost my temper, or spanked Mags or anything, but I must've raised my voice and been at my limit at least a dozen times over rthe day. Turns out I was yelling at a sick kid. Great. So, the rest of the night we spent curled up on the couch at J&E's house, tossing around uncomfortably, refusing to drink or eat anything, and just generally being unhappy. J&E were very accomidating, serving us food on the couch and watching 'Babe' for the umpteenth time, even when Mags dozed. Any other plans of accomplishing things were set aside for the evening, and when Mags asked to go home to sleep, I happily conceeded.

I couldn't get her to take any kid's liquid Tylenol, nor juce laced with Emergen-C, and by the time I came back upstairs with a sippy cup full of warm milk and a vitamin (the only things I could get her to agree to consume since a sparsely picked-over lunch, she was out cold. I'm hoping she sleeps most of this off overnight. Sadly, it means we'll have to miss L's second birthday party tomorrow (at Gymboree, no less! Dammit!) I've also got my fingers crossed that she's well enough to go to daycare on Monday; otherwise I'll have to miss a day of class, which wouldn't normally be the end of the world, but we did not have class last Monday because of the holiday, and this'd really put me behind. But, you do what you have to do -- even more so when it comes to your kid.

So, for now, I'm gonna curl up with a book and let Mags get into deep sleep before trying to move her to her bedroom so that I can sleep. Husband will be home from his company party late tonight, but I'm gonna let him enjoy his evening without any panicky phone calls. There's nothing anyone can do but let her sleep anuhow. I'll just keep an eye out on that temperature.

Oh, and Universe? If I could pass through this nursing stage unscathed, I surely would appreciate it....

Offspring Story of the Day (c)

Husband: (preening in formal kilt for the family) Well, how do I look?
Mags: Ohhhh, you look like a princess!

Offspring Story of the Day (b)

me: (lying in bed, awake too early, grumpy beyond all reason)
Mags: Mama, I think you are smart, and beautiful, aaaaand a little bit silly.

Offspring Story of the Day (a)

Mags: (wrapping thread around the legs of her chair) I'm making the room beautiful, mama!

Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

Names and hair colors have been changed to protect the innocent.
************************************************************************************
The walls of the room reflect the lemony hue of the sun pouring in through the paned glass. What's left drips over the two women sitting at the scarred wooden table, crowning them with slow-dancing dust motes. Surrounded by the anchors of everyday life - an empty school bag tossed into a chair, a purse slouched on the floor, game board figurines facing off across a cardboard field of battle, a stack of bills to be paid - they each appear to be miles away from the kitchen they are seated in.

The closer of the two is turned partially away, revealing her ear. A parade of silver rings marches down the lobe. A bare scalp explodes into a frenzied and untamed purple mohawk, bisecting her skull. Her bent head causes the tip of her hair to brush against her glasses. Legs of flesh twine through legs of wood as the sister settles deeper into her chair. A leather-booted foot rocks back and forth in time with the undulations of the knee above it. Her fingers race, then pause, then race again over the keyboard of the silver laptop resting before her. A blind hand steals away briefly to grope for a steaming glass of coffee, seemingly unnoticed by the rest of the body. Eyes still locked to the screen, she cocks her head to the side so she can continue to read uninterrupted while she drinks. Through her glasses, miniature concave images of the screen are reflected.

Similar screen images are reflected off of the glasses of the younger woman sitting across the dark wooden circle from her. A bouquet of tattooed flowers vine their way up and across her arm. The arrangement leads to hands that weave and twist a lock of platinum hair over and over, her eyes never leaving the screen. She has braided and unbraided this section of hair repeatedly, only stopping to type or move the mouse. Her black-rimmed glasses encircle eyes that seem to perpetually smile. Occasionally her mouth will join in with a grin of its own, causing her cheeks to lift her frames ever so slightly. Her noticeably pregnant belly throws a shadow across her stockinged feet. Hastily applied labels and stickers across the back of her machine may give additional clues to her persona: 'Blog or die'; 'Nyerd'; 'Mac'; 'I poke badgers with spoons.'

Suddenly, laughter bursts into the room. The force of big sister's body falling back against the chair causes purple plumage to briefly rock above her head. Hands freeze in mid-braid and eyes shoot up from across the table quizzically. Grinning, the blonde demands to know what is so funny. A chuckling explanation gives the link to a website that caused all the mirth. Hands falling from her hair, the poker of badgers enters the address into her computer. Within moments, both women are howling with laughter, heads thrown back. Wooden feet scrape across the floor as arms propel the chairs and their occupants away from the table. A protective hand falls across one belly. The unabashed laughter briefly causes the first woman to cough and catch her breath.

Slowing, the two now are throwing out their own commentary, prompting additional laughter flare-ups in between. The pearls of their teeth flash in the light. Boots and stockings push, push, push chairs back to their perches under the table's edge. Hands readjust keyboards into comfortable positions as the last of the comments are shot across the other's computerized bow. Chattering comfortably now, heads return to bowed positions as each woman returns to her individual space.

Through the light, dust particles continue to roll lazily above their heads.

Attention whore, meet Cloud 9

We had to read our homework in small group for critique today. I had such a good feeling about mine that I actually volunteered to be the first to read, had no nervousness, and was looking forward to feedback from the others (stroke my ego!) They had good things to say, but then...

...but then...

My teacher picked me - ME! - to read my short scene to the class as an example. ME! MINE! The two page document I pounded out at 2 am this morning! "An excellent example of description and detail", he noted out loud. "Really shows how much information you can give for a piece covering a very short period of time," he raved on.

I am unstoppable. There is nothing I cannot do. Shopping lists across the country quake with fear. Rawr!

Many thanks to the Henry sisters for being the main (ok, the only) characters in my scene.