So today is Gramma Funny's 93rd birthday. That's right, and yesterday was the day of celebration. Apparently people on the Funny side of the family live forever...and by forever I mean most of them make it past 100 - which I find very impressive. It's also comforting to think that J will probably outlive me and I won't be a sad lonely widow...of course the flip side of that is that J would be a sad, lonely widower so I guess now I'm not really comforted at all. Now I feel all sad and despondent thinking about us being dead so I'm going to change the subject.
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So the gang assembled at Gramma and Grampa Funny's new apartment and we had a gay old time. One thing they never show in commercials for the clapper ("Clap on! Clap off! The clapper!") is that someone laughing loudly can turn the lights off. They also never depict what I find to be, by far, the most amusing benefit: eight adults all clapping furiously trying to turn the light back on and eventually giving up and talking in the dark until somebody laughs really hard again and the light finally comes on again.
Like I said, Gramma Funny is 93 and oh...the stories that older people can tell. For instance, when they first got married Grampa and Gramma Funny bought a farm and it didn't have electricity. When Gramma was pregnant with her first child (Pa's oldest sister) she was dreading having to start a fire in the middle of the night just to warm a bottle...but Grampa got the electricity hooked up at last right before Gramma and baby got home from the hospital. It is truly an amazing thing and listen to her rattle on about things like that, it blows my mind to even think of living without electricity!
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On Tuesday I had the van. Oh! Freedom! I have purposely not been counting the days since Ruby, the car of greatness, died. But it's been a long time and I was starting to go crazy and so we worked it out for me to have the van for a day. It had been so long since I've been the driver that I grabbed my purse and coat (and gloves and hat and scarf...darn you, winter!) and was standing outside the passenger door for a few seconds before I realized that I had the keys and would have to let myself in.
I drove all over and looked at many Christmas-bedecked stores and felt oh so jolly. I bought wrapping paper so that I could come home and start wrapping presents (one of my favorite things to do), I got some more stocking stuffers for J and yes, I picked up some groceries while I was out. I got stamps and...well I guess that was it, but it was a day of greatness and I enjoyed it thoroughly.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
sunday
Sundays follow a predictable pattern for us...
9 a.m. - J gets up and takes a shower
9:30 a.m. - J wakes me up. Apparently I make a very angry face when being woken up and the first few times he did it he stood as far away as possible in case I started punching. I don't punch, I just hate getting out of bed. I didn't realize until a recent conversation that the grumpy from my brain showed up on my groggy face. 0:-)
9:45 a.m. - We're both dressed. If there is Mountain Dew in the house I pour us a couple of glasses and we head out the door to church. If there is a lack of Dew we wish we had some and leave anyway.
10 a.m. - Church starts. Pastor Dan preaches. I make notes that within weeks I am unable to comprehend. Today's gleanings: "Bitterness smells like roadkill".
11:15 a.m. - (I'm guessing on the time here, I never actually pay attention to when church ends) Church is over and we ooze forward with the mob to exit the church, usually stopping to chat with Pastor Dan for a minute before leaving.
11:16 a.m. - We decide whether to go home or to go Do Something. Today we headed out to our new favorite haunt - a park with a volunteer wildlife refuge center full of injured hawks, eagles (bald and golden), buzzards, one bobcat, and owls. We walked and talked to all the animals (i.e. I talk to all the animals and J whistled, trying to sound like a scared rodent to get their attention) and then realized we were freezing and headed back to the van. It's see-your-breath weather. :(
Once in the van we realized we hadn't had enough animal contact and went to pet the bunnies, kitties, and puppies at the pet store in the mall.
Muuuuuch better.
1 p.m. - Home again - eat a brief lunch and
1:15 p.m. - I'm collapsed in bed for my afternoon nap. Napping is an essential part of a Sunday for me, my body enforces the ritual around the same time every week. During this time J will usually run to the library and pick up some movies (westerns, since I'm not a big fan of cowboy flicks and he gets to watch them by himself) - today it was Tom Horn starring Steve McQueen.
3:20 p.m. - Is when I woke from my beauty sleep. The rest of the day is a great affair of doing nothing in particular - reading, watching football, harassing each other, annoying the hamsters. Today, however, we lugged our laundry over to Mom & Pa's (4 loads worth...so much, in fact, that I have to go back and finish it tomorrow. Needless to say we had literally no undies left, and had been wearing the same clothes for a couple days now...) and sat down with them to watch the Pats/Bills game on NBC. This particular fam are Bills fans, so it was a painful, ugly, disturbing affair. By halftime it was 28/7 Pats and J and I went home...because we were tired and what was the point? *sigh*
10:49 p.m. - That would be the moment we're at right now. Home again and getting ready for our ritualistic 11 p.m.-climbing-into-bed routine.
I love Sundays for all their laid-back glory. Most Sundays are like taking a deep breath and contentedly letting it out.
9 a.m. - J gets up and takes a shower
9:30 a.m. - J wakes me up. Apparently I make a very angry face when being woken up and the first few times he did it he stood as far away as possible in case I started punching. I don't punch, I just hate getting out of bed. I didn't realize until a recent conversation that the grumpy from my brain showed up on my groggy face. 0:-)
9:45 a.m. - We're both dressed. If there is Mountain Dew in the house I pour us a couple of glasses and we head out the door to church. If there is a lack of Dew we wish we had some and leave anyway.
10 a.m. - Church starts. Pastor Dan preaches. I make notes that within weeks I am unable to comprehend. Today's gleanings: "Bitterness smells like roadkill".
11:15 a.m. - (I'm guessing on the time here, I never actually pay attention to when church ends) Church is over and we ooze forward with the mob to exit the church, usually stopping to chat with Pastor Dan for a minute before leaving.
11:16 a.m. - We decide whether to go home or to go Do Something. Today we headed out to our new favorite haunt - a park with a volunteer wildlife refuge center full of injured hawks, eagles (bald and golden), buzzards, one bobcat, and owls. We walked and talked to all the animals (i.e. I talk to all the animals and J whistled, trying to sound like a scared rodent to get their attention) and then realized we were freezing and headed back to the van. It's see-your-breath weather. :(
Once in the van we realized we hadn't had enough animal contact and went to pet the bunnies, kitties, and puppies at the pet store in the mall.
Muuuuuch better.
1 p.m. - Home again - eat a brief lunch and
1:15 p.m. - I'm collapsed in bed for my afternoon nap. Napping is an essential part of a Sunday for me, my body enforces the ritual around the same time every week. During this time J will usually run to the library and pick up some movies (westerns, since I'm not a big fan of cowboy flicks and he gets to watch them by himself) - today it was Tom Horn starring Steve McQueen.
3:20 p.m. - Is when I woke from my beauty sleep. The rest of the day is a great affair of doing nothing in particular - reading, watching football, harassing each other, annoying the hamsters. Today, however, we lugged our laundry over to Mom & Pa's (4 loads worth...so much, in fact, that I have to go back and finish it tomorrow. Needless to say we had literally no undies left, and had been wearing the same clothes for a couple days now...) and sat down with them to watch the Pats/Bills game on NBC. This particular fam are Bills fans, so it was a painful, ugly, disturbing affair. By halftime it was 28/7 Pats and J and I went home...because we were tired and what was the point? *sigh*
10:49 p.m. - That would be the moment we're at right now. Home again and getting ready for our ritualistic 11 p.m.-climbing-into-bed routine.
I love Sundays for all their laid-back glory. Most Sundays are like taking a deep breath and contentedly letting it out.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
she's a tired girl
We woke up this morning and had warmed apple cinnamon muffins I'd baked the day before - then J took a shower and by the time he got out I'd fallen asleep for a sound 3.5 hour nap. I think maybe I've been using up more than my normal allotment of energy lately...
Yesterday J got home and said GooberBear and Munchkin were over and Mom2 & Dad2's house again so off we went to play! Three more beautiful hours of chasing kiddos in circles...well that's not exactly true since GooberBear and I spent a solid hour of that making up stories. Out of nowhere he says "Aunt B I'm going to put you in the garbage!" Of course I was outraged and told him I'd escape and this somehow morphed into an hour-long discussion of who would put who in the garbage and how we'd get away. Needless to say I was tired of coming up with ideas loooong before Goober was, but how can you not play along with that crazy 3-year-old imagination?
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I've almost finished reading A Christmas Carol (Charles Dickens) for, believe it or not, the first time. He's my favorite author, but somehow I've skipped the holiday classic until now...after all I've seen numerous versions on video every year (The Muppet Christmas Carol reigning supreme) and I guess that was good enough for me up until the present. I shall leave you this blurb, the reading of which made me love Dickens all the more, since I've often questioned this very thing:
"Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of iron-mongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail."
I shall write a more thorough and interesting entry on Monday, I hope...for now I'm ready for bed!
Yesterday J got home and said GooberBear and Munchkin were over and Mom2 & Dad2's house again so off we went to play! Three more beautiful hours of chasing kiddos in circles...well that's not exactly true since GooberBear and I spent a solid hour of that making up stories. Out of nowhere he says "Aunt B I'm going to put you in the garbage!" Of course I was outraged and told him I'd escape and this somehow morphed into an hour-long discussion of who would put who in the garbage and how we'd get away. Needless to say I was tired of coming up with ideas loooong before Goober was, but how can you not play along with that crazy 3-year-old imagination?
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I've almost finished reading A Christmas Carol (Charles Dickens) for, believe it or not, the first time. He's my favorite author, but somehow I've skipped the holiday classic until now...after all I've seen numerous versions on video every year (The Muppet Christmas Carol reigning supreme) and I guess that was good enough for me up until the present. I shall leave you this blurb, the reading of which made me love Dickens all the more, since I've often questioned this very thing:
"Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of iron-mongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail."
I shall write a more thorough and interesting entry on Monday, I hope...for now I'm ready for bed!
Friday, November 16, 2007
shopping and snow
I hate snow.
...that came out stronger than I anticipated. I was planning on saying something about how I went shopping at the outlet mall with Mom2 yesterday and then end with a ditty about how the white stuff is coming down outside but instead my inner feelings exploded onto the screen, blurbing the harsh reality of the moment. I really hate snow.
I know it's pretty and white and means Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming. I know it means snowmen and twinkle lights. I know it means sledding and hot cocoa. But I just don't want it. Not ready. Yuck.
-----
So...Mom2 and I went to the outlet mall yesterday. She and Dad2 are getting me fun clothes for Christmas and part of the fun is shopping for them (and then waiting 38 days to open them and be surprised - yay!!) - seven hours of
* foot numbing walking
* trying on (literally) 44 bras (and now, finally and at last I have ones that FIT! I seriously did not know how uncomfortable my girls were until yesterday when they were freed from the constraints of the too-small-bra-of-doom)
* putting on and taking off around 30 shirts
* admiring hideous clothing for the shock value (Mom2 has the best faces)
* window shopping and trying not to knock things off of displays
I came away richer by
* 1 awesomely wonderful vintage-y hat
* 2 shirts that are NOT brown and black like all my other shirts
* 4 bras of joy
I got home and collapsed on the couch, falling asleep on J's shoulder for a while before crawling into bed for the night.
...that came out stronger than I anticipated. I was planning on saying something about how I went shopping at the outlet mall with Mom2 yesterday and then end with a ditty about how the white stuff is coming down outside but instead my inner feelings exploded onto the screen, blurbing the harsh reality of the moment. I really hate snow.
I know it's pretty and white and means Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming. I know it means snowmen and twinkle lights. I know it means sledding and hot cocoa. But I just don't want it. Not ready. Yuck.
-----
So...Mom2 and I went to the outlet mall yesterday. She and Dad2 are getting me fun clothes for Christmas and part of the fun is shopping for them (and then waiting 38 days to open them and be surprised - yay!!) - seven hours of
* foot numbing walking
* trying on (literally) 44 bras (and now, finally and at last I have ones that FIT! I seriously did not know how uncomfortable my girls were until yesterday when they were freed from the constraints of the too-small-bra-of-doom)
* putting on and taking off around 30 shirts
* admiring hideous clothing for the shock value (Mom2 has the best faces)
* window shopping and trying not to knock things off of displays
I came away richer by
* 1 awesomely wonderful vintage-y hat
* 2 shirts that are NOT brown and black like all my other shirts
* 4 bras of joy
I got home and collapsed on the couch, falling asleep on J's shoulder for a while before crawling into bed for the night.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
one of Those days
So needless to say, yesterday was an exhausted, groggy affair. Our neighbors have been pleasingly quiet for a couple months now and I'd forgotten just how loud they could get. I didn't miss it. Neighbors can be stupid, inconsiderate things. Rawr!
But the day was great in spite of being half-asleep through most of it: GooberBear and Munchkin had come to play. This was because their mom thought Munchkin had a doctor appointment at 11 a.m. She didn't. It was scheduled for Friday at 9 a.m., so on Tuesday we had the kiddos to play with - oh happy surprise!
They found out about the mix up like this: Munchkin and her mom went to the doctor's while J, GooberBear, Mom2 and I played. Shortly after leaving Munchkin's mom calls and tells us she mixed up the appointment dates. She mixed up the appointment dates and decided that instead she and Munch would head to the Christmas Tree Shoppe for fun. Where one of her contacts popped out onto the floor and she couldn't find it anywhere. Being blind without her contacts or glasses, J drove Mom2 over to pick them up and GooberBear and I had some time alone (it was officially one of Those days).
We talked about fishing, and why the berries on the bushes were gross to eat, and he told me how oatmeal is his favorite food (oatmeal with honey), and we sat and ate an apple together.
By the time J and I got home I was delirious with lack of sleep and tried to take a nap...and sadly I failed. You know when you are so tired that you can't sleep? It's pretty darn annoying. So we watched a Marx brothers film and chilled on the couch and in general had a happy and relaxed evening.
But the day was great in spite of being half-asleep through most of it: GooberBear and Munchkin had come to play. This was because their mom thought Munchkin had a doctor appointment at 11 a.m. She didn't. It was scheduled for Friday at 9 a.m., so on Tuesday we had the kiddos to play with - oh happy surprise!
They found out about the mix up like this: Munchkin and her mom went to the doctor's while J, GooberBear, Mom2 and I played. Shortly after leaving Munchkin's mom calls and tells us she mixed up the appointment dates. She mixed up the appointment dates and decided that instead she and Munch would head to the Christmas Tree Shoppe for fun. Where one of her contacts popped out onto the floor and she couldn't find it anywhere. Being blind without her contacts or glasses, J drove Mom2 over to pick them up and GooberBear and I had some time alone (it was officially one of Those days).
We talked about fishing, and why the berries on the bushes were gross to eat, and he told me how oatmeal is his favorite food (oatmeal with honey), and we sat and ate an apple together.
By the time J and I got home I was delirious with lack of sleep and tried to take a nap...and sadly I failed. You know when you are so tired that you can't sleep? It's pretty darn annoying. So we watched a Marx brothers film and chilled on the couch and in general had a happy and relaxed evening.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
stupid neighbors
1:58 a.m. is too early (or too late) to be having a raucous party next door.
Also...my overall FreeCell score suffers dramatically when I play late at night (when I should be soundly sleeping).
The end.
Also...my overall FreeCell score suffers dramatically when I play late at night (when I should be soundly sleeping).
The end.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
the chirping
Last night I shot out of sleep at 3:10 a.m.
chirp! chirp! chirp!
In the midst of panic my thinking was clear: check the apartment for fire, smell the air for smoke, plan means of exit, grab discs with all our photos on them.
My one overwhelming, irrational fear is being caught in a house fire. Anything that remotely sounds like a fire alarm has me breathing raggedly and going through my emergency checklist; weird smells will send me into a frenzy.
chirp!
The apartment is small and it didn't take long to rule out a fire in our part of the building. I sniffed the air. Peanut butter cookies? Who the heck cooks peanut butter cookies at this hour of night? Wait...my nose is half plugged, maybe it's really smoke but I think it's a tasty treat.
chirp! chirp!
How is J sleeping through this? Should I wake him up? Nobody else in our building is moving around. Get back in bed and calm down.
chirp!
It's just the you-need-to-change-my-battery chirp of a smoke detector. Breathe in and out, nothing is burning, you are safe. Just pull out the battery and go back to sleep. I drag a folding chair into the hall and try to pull off the cap thing of the smoke alarm. It's stuck. The chirps I'm hearing don't seem to be coming from it. They have to be. J would make this all better if I woke him up, but if he can sleep through why should I ruin his sleep?
chirp! chirp! chirp!
I'm back in bed. The chirping seems to be taking a break, try to sleep. Sleep? Are you kidding me? My heart is still racing and I'm panting for air. I talk myself down from my panic and close my eyes.
chirp!
Eyes open. I think my fear of house fires started back when I was a kid and we would watch Rescue 911. I loved that show - stories of all kinds of real emergencies, bad actors portraying it all. There were one too many house fire shows, though. One too many episodes of Christmas trees catching on fire and candles burning too long. I had three recurring nightmares about being caught in a fire until well through high school.
chirp! chirp!
My heart is still pounding. Whenever I'd sleep over at a friend's house around Christmas and they'd leave the twinkle lights on all night I'd creep into the living room and watch. While the rest of the house slept I'd guard the tree just to make sure nothing kindled, just to make sure nobody would fall asleep from the smoke and burn in their beds.
chirp!
Why won't it stop chirping? I can't sleep, I'm freaked out. Back out to the hall with a folding chair (J still sleeping peacefully), tugging at the smoke alarm. I get the cap off!
There's no battery. This doesn't make me feel better, why is it chirping if there is no battery? Why would it chirp when it's wired into the ceiling? J finally awakes from my shuffling and creaking and I whisper the whole story...I've been up an hour now freaking out.
chirp! chirp!
I sit tensely on the bed as J fiddles with the alarm. Sixty seconds later the chirping is gone. It was the alarm in the bedroom, not the hall. The battery is pulled and J has saved my sanity. He gives me snuggles and tells me everything is okay. He tells me next time to wake him up so he can take care of me instead of worrying myself to death for an hour.
"Silly B," he says, "that's what I'm here for!" We burrow under the covers and close our eyes. All is well, it's time to sleep.
silence!
chirp! chirp! chirp!
In the midst of panic my thinking was clear: check the apartment for fire, smell the air for smoke, plan means of exit, grab discs with all our photos on them.
My one overwhelming, irrational fear is being caught in a house fire. Anything that remotely sounds like a fire alarm has me breathing raggedly and going through my emergency checklist; weird smells will send me into a frenzy.
chirp!
The apartment is small and it didn't take long to rule out a fire in our part of the building. I sniffed the air. Peanut butter cookies? Who the heck cooks peanut butter cookies at this hour of night? Wait...my nose is half plugged, maybe it's really smoke but I think it's a tasty treat.
chirp! chirp!
How is J sleeping through this? Should I wake him up? Nobody else in our building is moving around. Get back in bed and calm down.
chirp!
It's just the you-need-to-change-my-battery chirp of a smoke detector. Breathe in and out, nothing is burning, you are safe. Just pull out the battery and go back to sleep. I drag a folding chair into the hall and try to pull off the cap thing of the smoke alarm. It's stuck. The chirps I'm hearing don't seem to be coming from it. They have to be. J would make this all better if I woke him up, but if he can sleep through why should I ruin his sleep?
chirp! chirp! chirp!
I'm back in bed. The chirping seems to be taking a break, try to sleep. Sleep? Are you kidding me? My heart is still racing and I'm panting for air. I talk myself down from my panic and close my eyes.
chirp!
Eyes open. I think my fear of house fires started back when I was a kid and we would watch Rescue 911. I loved that show - stories of all kinds of real emergencies, bad actors portraying it all. There were one too many house fire shows, though. One too many episodes of Christmas trees catching on fire and candles burning too long. I had three recurring nightmares about being caught in a fire until well through high school.
chirp! chirp!
My heart is still pounding. Whenever I'd sleep over at a friend's house around Christmas and they'd leave the twinkle lights on all night I'd creep into the living room and watch. While the rest of the house slept I'd guard the tree just to make sure nothing kindled, just to make sure nobody would fall asleep from the smoke and burn in their beds.
chirp!
Why won't it stop chirping? I can't sleep, I'm freaked out. Back out to the hall with a folding chair (J still sleeping peacefully), tugging at the smoke alarm. I get the cap off!
There's no battery. This doesn't make me feel better, why is it chirping if there is no battery? Why would it chirp when it's wired into the ceiling? J finally awakes from my shuffling and creaking and I whisper the whole story...I've been up an hour now freaking out.
chirp! chirp!
I sit tensely on the bed as J fiddles with the alarm. Sixty seconds later the chirping is gone. It was the alarm in the bedroom, not the hall. The battery is pulled and J has saved my sanity. He gives me snuggles and tells me everything is okay. He tells me next time to wake him up so he can take care of me instead of worrying myself to death for an hour.
"Silly B," he says, "that's what I'm here for!" We burrow under the covers and close our eyes. All is well, it's time to sleep.
silence!
Saturday, November 10, 2007
santa
Today we went to the mall to pet bunnies, puppies, and kittens in the pet store and then walked around admiring all the decorations (with a huge crowd of other people who apparently had the exact same idea).
Well this very morning, it turns out, Santa descended from the sky (in a helicopter...I guess the reindeer had the day off) to greet all the little children who were out shopping.
Including me. :) We were walking by Santa, whose beard is real and teeth are falling out and I waved to him and
... he made eye contact and waved back.
Clearly I have been a very good girl this year. :-D
Well this very morning, it turns out, Santa descended from the sky (in a helicopter...I guess the reindeer had the day off) to greet all the little children who were out shopping.
Including me. :) We were walking by Santa, whose beard is real and teeth are falling out and I waved to him and
... he made eye contact and waved back.
Clearly I have been a very good girl this year. :-D
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
oh how i played
It's what I imagine a bug feels like after a firm stomping from an unforgiving shoe. Crushed, pain wracking its mangled body (can bugs feel pain? Or is it more like paralysis? "That's weird, I can't seem to feel my thorax!"), eyes squinted in agony, dimly wondering what the heck happened to make him feel this way. Except I know why I feel this way. Yesterday I played...
J dropped the van off in the morning yesterday...an unexpected pleasantry causing me to jump up and down and yell "Yippee!". I threw on my clothes and ran out the door. What would I do? Where would I go? As I planned my moves I climbed into the van and let out a cry... For quite a while now we've just been tossing our cans and bottles into the back of the van, figuring we'd take them to the redemption center "sometime". It was yesterday morning that I realized the time had come - 9 garbage bags bulging, one box clinking - blocking windows and threatening to jump into the front seat.
I happily drove to the grocery store and loaded two carts, handily wheeling them to the redemption counter. To the chagrin of every old lady in line behind me I then unloaded all 389 cans and bottles. It was no small feat; in the end I was sticky and somewhat disheveled...but it was with triumph that I cashed my pay ticket of $19.45!
Skipping back to the van I smiled to myself with smug contentment (clearly it doesn't take a whole lot to make me feel special) and drove to Mom's...where my nephew (GooberBear) and niece (Munchkin) were having a snack with their grammy.
Due to somebody being sick or my Fibromyalgia being stupid or somebodies car dying it had been a long while since we'd played together and our meeting was filled with screams and giggles. GooberBear is almost 4. He was so excited to see me that he jumped up and ran in circles and yelled for a few minutes before he could calm down enough to play. Munchkin is around a year and half and smiled and giggled while GooberBear did his thing.
Then we played, oh how we played! We spent a good half hour playing "How high did I jump?". This means I sit on the middle cushion of the couch and GooberBear stands on one end and jumps over me, most of the time needing a little help reaching the other side. Finally I said, "Okay, two more jumps and then let's play something else."
"Okay," said GooberBear, "three more jumps and then hide and seek." He always sneaks that extra jump (or whatever we're doing at the time) in there so naturally that I cannot refuse. What aunt could?
Hide and seek with GooberBear goes like this:
"Hey GooberBear, are you hiding or am I hiding?"
"You hide....in the bathroom." (for "in the bathroom" insert anything from 'under that chair' to 'by that plant')
Goober then proceeds to count from one to twenty. I was impressed as he accurately hammered out 1-12 and then finished up with, "thiiiirteen. fiiiiifteen. foooouurteen. seeeeventeen. TWENTY!"
Now half the fun for this little boy when he hides is having you look for him everywhere he's not while he giggles to himself at how you can't find him. ("Aunt B, look for me everywhere else first.") So as I was crouched down getting my socks wet in the tub I let out my own set of giggles as I heard him looking for me in the other room:
"Hmmm. Where could Aunt B be hiding? Under the table? Nooooo. On the couch? Nooo. Behind the lamp? Noooo..."
In the meantime, Munchkin has decided to join in and gleefully pulls back the shower curtain, exclaiming, "GAAAHBLLLAAA!!!!"
Our games were interrupted occasionally by a "TRAIN!!!!" or "GOHBO!!!" (garbage truck)...in which case we dropped whatever we were doing, jumped on the couch and watched what was going by with fascination through the front window.
After two hours of playing, discussing how we slept with our teddy bears, eating peanut butter off a big spoon, and talking about how we missed each other it was time to go. Fortunately they'll be up on Wednesday and we can play again for another day!
Tired out and sore I contemplated returning home, but having the van for a day was more temptation than I could handle and I hit up The Christmas Tree Shop and A.C. Moore for gifties and stocking stuffers (Christmas is coming!!!) before returning home.
This is where I should have taken the nap and painkillers my body was pleading for, but instead I got distracted and cleaned the hamster cages (gross), which somehow morphed into dusting and vacuuming...and sweeping the kitchen...and taking down 'normal' decorations to make way for Christmassy ones. And getting Christmas boxes out of the closet. When J came home the apartment was in wild disarray and I was ready to collapse. I did collapse, but after a brief nap and supper we got crazy, put on the holiday tunes, and decked the walls and windows with all manner of cheer. (Christmas is coming!!!)
We were done by 9:30 p.m. and after a few minutes on the couch I was painfully aware of having crossed the line physically by doing Too Much. Head pounding and muscles spasming, I went to bed around 11 p.m. No pill could keep the pain down enough for me to sleep, though, and by 3 a.m. I was comparing myself to the unfortunate insects. And now it is morning and once again I am full of pills and pain, but looking back on my day yesterday I can't help but smile and think that it was Worth It.
J dropped the van off in the morning yesterday...an unexpected pleasantry causing me to jump up and down and yell "Yippee!". I threw on my clothes and ran out the door. What would I do? Where would I go? As I planned my moves I climbed into the van and let out a cry... For quite a while now we've just been tossing our cans and bottles into the back of the van, figuring we'd take them to the redemption center "sometime". It was yesterday morning that I realized the time had come - 9 garbage bags bulging, one box clinking - blocking windows and threatening to jump into the front seat.
I happily drove to the grocery store and loaded two carts, handily wheeling them to the redemption counter. To the chagrin of every old lady in line behind me I then unloaded all 389 cans and bottles. It was no small feat; in the end I was sticky and somewhat disheveled...but it was with triumph that I cashed my pay ticket of $19.45!
Skipping back to the van I smiled to myself with smug contentment (clearly it doesn't take a whole lot to make me feel special) and drove to Mom's...where my nephew (GooberBear) and niece (Munchkin) were having a snack with their grammy.
Due to somebody being sick or my Fibromyalgia being stupid or somebodies car dying it had been a long while since we'd played together and our meeting was filled with screams and giggles. GooberBear is almost 4. He was so excited to see me that he jumped up and ran in circles and yelled for a few minutes before he could calm down enough to play. Munchkin is around a year and half and smiled and giggled while GooberBear did his thing.
Then we played, oh how we played! We spent a good half hour playing "How high did I jump?". This means I sit on the middle cushion of the couch and GooberBear stands on one end and jumps over me, most of the time needing a little help reaching the other side. Finally I said, "Okay, two more jumps and then let's play something else."
"Okay," said GooberBear, "three more jumps and then hide and seek." He always sneaks that extra jump (or whatever we're doing at the time) in there so naturally that I cannot refuse. What aunt could?
Hide and seek with GooberBear goes like this:
"Hey GooberBear, are you hiding or am I hiding?"
"You hide....in the bathroom." (for "in the bathroom" insert anything from 'under that chair' to 'by that plant')
Goober then proceeds to count from one to twenty. I was impressed as he accurately hammered out 1-12 and then finished up with, "thiiiirteen. fiiiiifteen. foooouurteen. seeeeventeen. TWENTY!"
Now half the fun for this little boy when he hides is having you look for him everywhere he's not while he giggles to himself at how you can't find him. ("Aunt B, look for me everywhere else first.") So as I was crouched down getting my socks wet in the tub I let out my own set of giggles as I heard him looking for me in the other room:
"Hmmm. Where could Aunt B be hiding? Under the table? Nooooo. On the couch? Nooo. Behind the lamp? Noooo..."
In the meantime, Munchkin has decided to join in and gleefully pulls back the shower curtain, exclaiming, "GAAAHBLLLAAA!!!!"
Our games were interrupted occasionally by a "TRAIN!!!!" or "GOHBO!!!" (garbage truck)...in which case we dropped whatever we were doing, jumped on the couch and watched what was going by with fascination through the front window.
After two hours of playing, discussing how we slept with our teddy bears, eating peanut butter off a big spoon, and talking about how we missed each other it was time to go. Fortunately they'll be up on Wednesday and we can play again for another day!
Tired out and sore I contemplated returning home, but having the van for a day was more temptation than I could handle and I hit up The Christmas Tree Shop and A.C. Moore for gifties and stocking stuffers (Christmas is coming!!!) before returning home.
This is where I should have taken the nap and painkillers my body was pleading for, but instead I got distracted and cleaned the hamster cages (gross), which somehow morphed into dusting and vacuuming...and sweeping the kitchen...and taking down 'normal' decorations to make way for Christmassy ones. And getting Christmas boxes out of the closet. When J came home the apartment was in wild disarray and I was ready to collapse. I did collapse, but after a brief nap and supper we got crazy, put on the holiday tunes, and decked the walls and windows with all manner of cheer. (Christmas is coming!!!)
We were done by 9:30 p.m. and after a few minutes on the couch I was painfully aware of having crossed the line physically by doing Too Much. Head pounding and muscles spasming, I went to bed around 11 p.m. No pill could keep the pain down enough for me to sleep, though, and by 3 a.m. I was comparing myself to the unfortunate insects. And now it is morning and once again I am full of pills and pain, but looking back on my day yesterday I can't help but smile and think that it was Worth It.
Monday, November 5, 2007
election day is coming
If I was unaware that local election day, November 6, was coming, the 497 messages on my answering machine would have left me in no doubt. Every manner of pre-recorded messages have made their way to us and they all say the same thing: our governor is crazy, vote Republican on election day!
Now I wouldn't say he's crazy, but certainly some of his plans (like giving driver's licenses to the illegal immigrants in our state) have me wondering. I mean, c'mon...what's the point of being an American citizen if you can get free health care (insurance which J and I, as citizens can't afford) and driver's licenses from the state as an illegal immigrant? I feel the plight of these people, but a little realism, please. The fact that 'illegal' precedes 'immigrant' should be a clue as to their status.
So aside from being annoying, these automated calls are pointless since they obviously know I'm a registered Republican and have every intention of making it to the polls on election day. That being said the phone is ringing again and I have a nagging suspicion that I know who it is...
Now I wouldn't say he's crazy, but certainly some of his plans (like giving driver's licenses to the illegal immigrants in our state) have me wondering. I mean, c'mon...what's the point of being an American citizen if you can get free health care (insurance which J and I, as citizens can't afford) and driver's licenses from the state as an illegal immigrant? I feel the plight of these people, but a little realism, please. The fact that 'illegal' precedes 'immigrant' should be a clue as to their status.
So aside from being annoying, these automated calls are pointless since they obviously know I'm a registered Republican and have every intention of making it to the polls on election day. That being said the phone is ringing again and I have a nagging suspicion that I know who it is...
Sunday, November 4, 2007
ho ho ho!
Lip update: Itchyness continues with little abatement. I think I may have to physically remove them from my face. I feel I ought to note that I have tried scratching my lips with my fingers and it is a very uncomfortable and awkward feeling. If you ask me probably you shouldn't try. Probably you should just stick to Chapstick.
While still itching abominably, they've entered a new phase of grossness: peely little pieces of dead skin detaching and staying stuck to my lips from the excess of Chapstick goo. J frequently looks and at me and says, "Gross...go fix your lips again." Okay...to give him credit, he's very nice about it. He just has a hard time looking at me ;-)
- - - - -
Christmas is coming. We put up our window clings today while giggling like little children. J adores Christmas and the feeling is contagious. He went out shopping for presents for me while I took my nap today (the suspense is already killing me) and came home with not only whatever it ended up being, but also these adorable little Pillsbury dough boy ornaments for me. He's so cute! Also we now have our first box of candy canes of the season. Ho ho ho!
While still itching abominably, they've entered a new phase of grossness: peely little pieces of dead skin detaching and staying stuck to my lips from the excess of Chapstick goo. J frequently looks and at me and says, "Gross...go fix your lips again." Okay...to give him credit, he's very nice about it. He just has a hard time looking at me ;-)
- - - - -
Christmas is coming. We put up our window clings today while giggling like little children. J adores Christmas and the feeling is contagious. He went out shopping for presents for me while I took my nap today (the suspense is already killing me) and came home with not only whatever it ended up being, but also these adorable little Pillsbury dough boy ornaments for me. He's so cute! Also we now have our first box of candy canes of the season. Ho ho ho!
Saturday, November 3, 2007
itchy lips of doom
My lips itch. So bad. It's not my fault, I just woke up the other day and BAM! itchy. Overnight my lips went from normal human lips, to scaly, peely, itchy lips of doom. They are bright red and I want to scratch them. I want to scratch my huge lips. Boy do they feel big. The mirror says they are normal size but they feel like large puffy Angelina Jolie lips. I have used almost an entire tube of Blistex in 3 days. J and I went shopping for more chapstick today. I have three more tubes ready to use, because, to use my favorite Napoleon Dynamite quote:
My lips hurt real bad.
My lips hurt real bad.
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