Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Enjoy Some Random Thoughts

The crazed schedule I'm keeping of late (busy at work, busy in life) has sincerely reduced my opportunity for deep thought. Obviously my postings are rife with philosophical ponderings, right? Anyway, for your enjoyment, some random thoughts which are not very deep:


1) Recently, in Virginia, there was a criminal who used a hammer to smash into store fronts and grab some loot. The news anchor described him as the "Hammer Burglar," and I giggled, 'cause I thought of the "Hamburglar," and figured that he'd probably fallen on hard times and had to resort to smash-and-grabs.

2) I love that my daughter, at the tender age of 20 months, has a deep and abiding affection for chocolate. She actually danced with joy -- a jig replete with enthusiastic arm wobbles -- when Super Ninja gave her a quarter of a chocolate doughnut for dessert last night.


3) People who ask, "Do you have two seconds?" are lying liars. It is never two seconds. It is never two minutes. It's usually about a half an hour. A half an hour of time I could be spending watching Netflix Instant Play movies.

4) I recently read "The Year of Magical Thinking." Periodically, I'll revisit the events of the book, and I grew curious about Joan Didion's & John Dunne's daughter, Quintana. I was heartbroken to read that she'd died just before the book was published. Joan Didion opted against chainging the book because, according to her, it was finished. Many of you likely knew that already...

5) The Girl gave me a gift last week. A horrific, gelatinous, summertime virus. Tasty. It has caused me to lose my voice. The rest of me is fine, I am simply without words. In a verbal fashion. Anyway, I went on a brief walk to a bookstore with some compatriots of mine during our lunch hour, and I couldn't really talk. And I had the really terrible suspicion that having been struck dumb didn't exactly deprive the world of golden thoughts and revelations.


6) I understand that there are some hate-mongers who are looking to protest the upcoming nuptials of George Takei and Brad Altman. While no one's wedding day should be treated this way, I almost* hope it happens because I would dearly love to see an armada of Star Fleet nerds standing guard at the wedding reception. I mean, come on. Westboro Baptist Church vs. Kling-ons**? No contest, especially when bat'leths are involved.

*Really, just a teensy weensy part of me.
**Undoubtedly, there would be a host of Federation races represented, but when referring to battle, always cite Kling-ons.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Conversations I Never Thought I Would Have

"Mommy,"whispers the Boy. He is perched on the steps. He knows it is very, very late, that he shouldn't be anywhere near the downstairs area, and that Mama just needs to sit and drink her beer* in peace.

"Yes?" I ask, closing my eyes. The laundry I'm folding is warm on my lap. I could just go to sleep right now...

It has been a long day. Father's Day. Which means Mommy Duty times two. The kids woke up at a quarter after six, and we were off to the races. After changing the Girl's diaper, encouraging the Boy to use the potty, brushing one and a half sets of teeth**, getting dressed, going to McDonald's (to get children out of the house and give Super Ninja the morning off), going to my parents' house, going swimming, being incredibly irritated by one of my brothers but stuffing the annoyance down because Father's Day is a nice time to be respectful of the fathers in the family and not start an argument, realizing this is the last full family get-together I'll have in awhile because Big Sister and her family are moving to England in ten days, driving home, and doing both kids' bedtimes because Super Ninja developed a raging migraine while we were at dinner... Yeah. Long day.

"Mommy, I can't go to sleep because I can't find Juggernaut."

The Boy has been playing with some Marvel superheroes and villains of late, and Juggernaut always seems to go missing. I guess he really is unstoppable.

After a hearty sigh, I push myself off of the couch. My visual sweep of the menagerie of action figures on my coffee table does not reveal Juggernaut, so I shuffle to the stairs, and the Boy and I march back to his bedroom. I dig under and around his bed, but to no avail. I tuck the Boy back under his Thomas the Tank Engine sheets, give him a kiss, and tell him we'll find it tomorrow.

Fingers crossed, the full complement of action figures will be found today so that the Boy stays in bed and doesn't cause me to have minor heart failure by materializing when I'm least expecting it.

*The Girl has started calling beer "Mommy Juice." This does not make me feel good.
**The Girl only has seven teeth right now.

Friday, June 13, 2008

I'm Molting

This past weekend was a very swimmable weekend. The air was reminiscent soup. Not the good kind, either. I'm talking Cream of Awful. Sticky, damp, oppressive. And clearly from a can.

Whilst I was wondering what to do with the kiddies all day, my best friend called me to giggle about how she'd just purchased the diametrically opposed Ayn Rand's The Virtue of Selfishness and Karl Marx's Communist Manifesto. Then she made me feel sixteen again by asking me the question that all kids whose parents have a pool hear repeatedly during the dog days of summer: "Hey, are you going swimming today?"

When we were kids, she would come over with a towel and a bathing suit. Just in case.

But I couldn't imagine anything better than going swimming. If I didn't, I would've just puddled. And being surrounded by lovely pool water is way, way better than swimming in your own juices. So, best friend came over, and it was just like old times. Well except that we were squiring my children through the water, both of whom could not have loved swimming more. This is a shock, because in previous years we could only coax the Boy into the water with tales of how much Batman loves swimming.

But this year? He'd been napping when Best Friend and I first dipped into the pool, and upon waking from his slumber, my sister brought him outside so he could see what I was up to. The Boy immediately dropped trou and ran toward the pool, semi-in flagrante. I ushered him back inside where I could slap him in his bathing suit, UV tee, and soaked him from head to toe with sunblock. Same with the Girl. And it was off to the pool!

During this thoroughly enjoyable escapade, I earned a flaming red sunburn. I thought I'd gotten my back with the SPF 45, but, it seems I was wrong. It is flaking and peeling now, and I have a new found sympathy for snakes and what they have to go through when sloughing off skin.

Yet another thing that does not scream professional: angling your arms like an escape artist to claw the dangling strips of flesh from your back.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

Retraction

I guess this isn't so much a retraction as it is a correction, but "retraction" always sounds way juicy. And I'm nothing if not juicy. Wait, that doesn't sound right.

Anyway, turns out that I misremembered some of my personal history and it was not by brother-in-law's wife, Playwright, who gave me The Time Traveler's Wife. Nope, 't'was my brother-in-law himself, who has requested this moniker when referenced in this here blog: Indiana Hulk.

Wish granted.

Indiana Hulk christened himself such to annoy Super Ninja. How so? Well, he cherrypicked Super Ninja's nearest and dearest fictional characters. Given that, I think I need to offer Super Ninja the opportunity to create a nickname to annoy Indiana Hulk. Might I suggest Citizen Spidey? Or any other combo that name checks Spider-Man, Orson Welles, The Shadow, Houdini, and Richard Nixon?

Monday, June 02, 2008

Another Thing that Doesn't Exactly Scream 'Professional'

Mama went out on a date with Super Ninja on Saturday night. Mama decided to wear those red wedge heels that she's only worn once before. Mama forgot that they are a scourge to human feet.

Yeah, so today I'm rocking some Band-Aids and sandals that have zero straps near the blister zone. But, in my hurry, I grabbed the first Band-Aids that I could find. Instead of the normal semi-flesh-toned bandages one would expect on an adult woman, my toes are bedecked with the Wiggles.

The Boy and the Girl were highly impressed.