Sunday, December 12, 2010

Spreading The Love

It was suggested last week by the GG that, rather than gratuitous swearing, I say something nice to someone instead. A twist on the old, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all," I suppose. I was doubtful that this would bring me holiday cheer, but since I'm not the one with the Ph.D., I decided to give it a go and see what happened. The girl is always up for new experiences. Later that day, when an old man at the gym told me that if I was ever going to get a husband, I "needed more meat on my bones," I smiled and used my brute force to help adjust the weight machine settings for his fragile, elderly body, rather than saying, "At least I can lift more than ten pounds without snapping a damn bone, old man!" A friend who normally gets only my shining sarcasm got a heartfelt, "I love you, man" paragraph in his message, though I really wanted to give him shit for his chronic inability to reply to me in a timely manner, leaving me to Google him on occasion just to see if he's dead. On the family front, though Sutton spilled his drink on the kitchen floor three times in one day (THREE FUCKING TIMES), I never once muttered "Goddamnit" under my breath. I was sweetness and light. I was a saint.

And you know where it got me? NOWHERE.

The little old man didn't even say "thank you." I may have traumatized my emotionally deficient friend. Sutt spilled his drink twice the next day.

Did I at least feel better, after spewing all that merriness out into the world?

Nope. Not even a little. I just felt like somebody other than me. And why would I want to be somebody other than me? I'm awesome. Prone to fits of violence, drunkenness and crude language, but awesome nonetheless.

Therefore, old man? I want you to know that you are old, brittle, and hateful. And I can assure you that I have plenty of meat on my bones, and that if I took off my clothes to show you, you'd likely keel over and die from the thrill of it all.

Friend? You suck at email, and I'm going to kick your half-wit ass someday.

Sutt? Learn to use a mop, kid. I will teach you. My mopping skills are unsurpassed.

And everybody else? Don't look for anymore sweetness soon. I'm all tapped out.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

From the Mouths of Babes


1. (Sutt): "Hey, Mommy. I dialed on Daddy's cell phone and I CALLED A REAL PERSON! It was awesome! They talked and everything! And you know who I called? 911!" (As it turns out, you can call 911 even from an old cell phone that is charged but no longer in service. Bet you didn't know that, did you?)

2. (Belly): "Hey, Mommy. My ear is all weird and plugged up. It's like the toilet gets after I go poop and we need to use the plunger. I guess I mean it feels like somebody pooped in my ear."

3. (Sutt): "Hey, Mommy. You know what my favorite flavor is? Mitten. Like Peppermitten."

4. (Belly): "Hey, Mommy. I think my cold has gotten better, and my eyes feel better, but I still have a problem. I have a crusty butt. Feel how crusty it is." (*To my relief, she was referring to dry skin on her extreme lower back. THANK GOD. One can only guess when one hears "crusty butt.")

*Side note: Have you noticed a pattern here with how my children begin EVERY FUCKING SENTENCE? And we all wonder why I drink.

5. (Sutt-- in the bathtub): "Hey, Mommy. What's this fat part of my junk called?" (Me): "Testicles." (Sutt): "TEXTICLES? What do I need TEXTICLES for?" (Me): "If you want to have a baby someday, you'll need them." (Sutt): "But right now, I don't need any texticles, right?"

6. (Belly): "Hey, Mommy, I don't want to eat anything, because every time I cough I puke in my mouth a little. So it's kind of like I'm eating all the time because I'm coughing all the time."

7. (Sutt): "Hey, Mommy. Guess what? This week is V week at school. And you know what word I told Mrs. Lentini starts with V? VINO!"

Ah, yes. The joys of children.


Friday, December 3, 2010

'Tis the Season

A few minutes ago, I was sitting outside in the freezing cold looking at the sky while the dogs powdered their noses. A plane was sailing overhead. I wondered where it was going. I could look down the street and see a handful of houses all lit up with Christmas lights, just like mine. Some people prefer all clear lights, but at my house colored always wins out. Maybe it's the Tennessee coming out in me. Maybe clear lights are just a little too straight and narrow for my family.

This time of year is tough nowadays. I miss my Dad, and it's hard to explain to two extremely excited kids why Mommy feels sad at Christmas. My Grief Guru says that this year will be easier than last, and next year will be easier than this one-- so on and so forth. I've long suspected, due to her taste in hairstyles (among other things) and her penchant for vests that she may be crazy as hell. Regardless, what am I to do except believe her? Emotionally, it's my best option, I guess.

B is serving jury duty this week, sitting as a juror on a child neglect case. I hate the thought of that-- that there are kids that are cold or hungry or don't have medicine when they are ill. Or even worse than that, that nobody even cares that they are cold or hungry or sick. I may not be the greatest Mom ever, but my kids will never suffer neglect in any way, shape, or form. When I die, they will still have lots of people who love them. They are lucky that way.

You see, when I lost my Dad, I lost a great big chunk of "the people who love me." My Mom loves me. B loves me. My kids love me. Aunt Tina and Ro and a handful of friends love me. I'm lucky that way, too. I am grateful for them all, but I still miss the way my Dad made me feel. When people disappear from your lives, in whatever capacity they once were in it, it leaves a hole that just doesn't go away. You can't fill it with something else (I've tried), you can't ignore it (tried that too), it's just there. It hurts. Case closed.

So this is Christmas, and I'm hanging in there. It's confusing and uncomfortable, but it is what it is, and I can't change it. I would if I could. I put up the tree, hung the lights, and wrapped a few gifts. I haven't thrown anything at the mall Santa or started involuntarily swearing when Christmas music comes on the radio. I'm missing some people I love, though. I suspect that's part of life.