Wednesday, February 21, 2007

A hundred little things

I haven't posted this week, mainly because my thoughts are so scattered. Something happens, and my brain processes an entire post about it, and then within an hour it's gone, to be replaced by something else. I can't get my head in one place right now.

My parents have just left after a 4 day extravaganza. I swear, I actually cried as long as the Kraken did when they left. It's SO hard to watch her enjoy them and vice versa, knowing that the next time they'll get to do so will be at least two months from now. At least we finally got some time together that was only marginally impacted by outside events. As my mother says "every time we've had a visit planned for the last year and a half, some old lady has ended up either going to the hospital or going down the tubes". ER nurses have quirky humor. Especially when you consider that our most recent example of this phenomenon has been her own mother.

Nice segue, that. I have almost finished filling my grandmother's china cabinet. My own wedding crystal and assorted pretty things look so strange behind glass, with lights, after almost four years locked up in a cabinet. Even stranger was the arrival of my grandmother's Japanese tea set to take its position in the front and center. This is an incredibly beautiful and delicate hand painted set, bone china so thin that you cannot believe anyone was able to hold it long enough to paint it. My great uncle Gerald brought it back from his tour of duty during WWII. I have loved it all my life, and now that I can see it every day, it makes me cry. I am processing. I am realizing that my own grief might be a little less complicated than I thought it was.

The Kraken is not having a good day. When she went to sleep, the beloved "NinnyPapa", as she calls them (like they are some sort of two headed hydra of love) were comfortably ensconced in the spare room like they had been since Saturday. When she awoke, the bed was made, the floor was clean, and there was no sign that they had ever been here except for the Dora lunchbox in the toy box and the extra groceries in the fridge. Needless to say, the dropoff at preschool this morning was not one of our better moments. She is at the store with the Minotaur at the moment, and hopefully by the time she returns she will be more amenable to being hugged by her lame, stupid, boring, extraneous Gorgon of a mother. Sheesh. Oh, yes, did I mention that she's decided to cut ALL FOUR of her final molars at the same time? Good times are rolling, oh yes they are.

I helped someone today. There is a person I know who is fairly regularly cranky, and can be taken past the point of frustration to DefCon5 (is that the highest one? It's been a long time since War Games) with relative ease. When he does, it's nigh unto impossible to bring him back. He approached me in full panic mode, and I soothed him back into remission with my own tranquility. Those of you who know me will know that tranquility is not one of my strong suits - I just had one of those moments, you know? The ones where you know, somehow, what you must do, like using the Force, except without anything flying around and making you look all kick ass and powerful. And I calmed him. And I felt good about it. And calming him calmed me.

Also on the plus side of the equation (ooooh, a math metaphor!), our money situation has been significantly improved by a very nice tax return and a series of fortunate events. My mammogram results came back clean, and we finally finished redecorating the spare room. The house is finally starting to look less like a band of mad chimps raided a Pier 1 outlet store and scattered their stash around a conveniently located squat. All of these things are good.

My guests will be arriving soon, expecting Argentinian flatbread with black bean spread, red peppers and chimichurri drizzle. I'll sign off for now. Maybe next week I'll be more cohesive, coherent. And maybe not.

Monday, February 12, 2007

Things you never want to hear from the radiology tech doing your mammogram

1. Hmmmm. I think we're going to need to go get the bigger tray. I'm a little concerned you will fall over the sides.

2. Well, this certainly would have been more difficult before you had children!

3. I don't think this will be too uncomfortable for you because your tissue is fairly stretchy.

4. Are you actually nursing now?

And the sad part about all this funny is that it's not exactly the kind of stuff you can share in the break room at the office, you know? So, you guys are the lucky recipients. And I am going to go sit with my sore girls and watch a little Heroes. And before anyone worries, this was just a routine, baseline exam. There's nothing wrong.

Friday, February 9, 2007

It's Friday night

This evening, I asked the Minotaur to help me open a can of cat food because its handy flip top had gone awry. The Kraken saw the Minotaur executing a Mommy task, and the following hilarity ensued.

Kraken "Daddy, no. No touching"
Minotaur "Kraken,, I'm helping Mommy"
Kraken "Daddy, no. It's Mommy's turn. It's MOMMY'S TURN".
Minotaur "Kraken, Mommy needed some help. I'm helping Mommy".
Kraken "Daddy, just walk away. Just walk away!"

And no, I didn't teach her that. The joys of preschool. I spit out my drink at that last one. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I needed that today - the day itself was not one of my more stellar ones, despite a variety of positive things going on in the Gorgonverse at the moment.

Tomorrow I have a ladies' night with my regular fall beach trip crew, and I'm very much looking forward to that. Tonight, I'm mostly hoping I can shut my brain off long enough to get some sleep.

Friday Morning

Waiting in my house for the (late) appraiser to come and tell me if my house is worth enough for the refinance that we're trying to finangle.

I've been out of pocket this week as we try to finish the remodel on the guest room before my parents arrive next weekend for a visit. It is yellow. Boy, is it yellow. I suspect that sleeping in there is going to be something like sleeping inside the sun. But, at least it no longer looks like blind monkeys painted it, so it's a start.

Last night - one of those "eh?" moments in parenting that I'm sure you've all experienced. You're on the floor, playing this game with your daughter - you stick your tongue out, and she tries frantically to grasp and pull your tongue ring out, foiled at every turn by the general sliminess of tongues, laughing hysterically and shrieking "I can't get it, I can't get it!".

Yep. A real Walton's moment, I tell you.

Happy Friday, everyone!