Why Do I Even Try?

Short and sweet.

In an effort to feel young and hip, I had my fingernails cut short and painted that almost-black color that you see in all the magazines. You know the picture - young starlet with lots of bangles and braided bracelets clutches her Blackberry, Starbucks cup and keys......and you see The Nails front and center. Those are the nails that I have. I must say, I was pretty impressed with myself.

Then, as I was taking the tray off of Yancey's high chair yesterday, I jumped back in fright because I thought I'd seen a bug crawling across the tray. Turns out it was just one of my young and oh-so-hip fingernails in my line of vision as my hand moved.

Why do I even try?

Again, With the Gas

I promise not to talk (much) more about the whole gas thing in GA, but it is really getting on my nerves. It's the same premise as making a "run" on a bank. If people were just getting gas according to their normal gas-getting schedules, there would not be the shortage there is. Even CNN is reporting that the panic is affecting this "crisis" more than the actual pipeline disruption. And if *I* am quoting CNN (not my fave network), then you know it is serious up in here. So, people.......PEOPLE.......please please PLEASE stop panicking! Stop cutting in line to get gas. That is really rude, and eventually, someone is going to get shot doing that (thank God Yancey doesn't carry his gun in his car - she says sort-of-semi-jokingly). Seriously - I've HAD it with you people!!

Oh, DING, I have just realized that I am not so much of a People Pleaser (view previous paragraph) as a "Rule Follower." Yes, that is *much* more the gist of who I am. Follow the rules. Wait in line. Take your turn. Tell the truth. Be fair. Don't go more than 9 miles over the speed limit. Do not water your plants (or for God's sake neighbor-who-I-shall-not-name do NOT set up a waterslide in your front yard) during a water restricting drought. Do not pretend to be sick so your spouse has to get up both weekend mornings with the kids (no comment). Do not read the end of a book before you are supposed to. Do NOT look for your Christmas presents before Christmas Day. Oh my gosh - have I always been this way? This is sort of annoying and borderline personality disorder, isn't it?

Oh well, at least the odds of me getting shot in line while waiting for gas are a lot lower than some other folks out there. That's something at least.

PS - I will no longer talk about the gas issue in Atlanta. Unless, of course, it causes me to miss my upcoming 20th High School Reunion. Then, some heads are gonna roll.

People Pleasing and the Gas Crisis

I just erased a gargantuan entry about how I am a People Pleaser and how it pisses me off that people take advantage of that. I figured that you guys don't need to read that crap - that is for my therapist (if I had one).

Soooo....anyhoo. Atlanta has no gas. Hilton Head Island has gas, but The City Too Busy To Hate is apparently The City Too Busy To Get My Ay Ess Ess Some Gas. I was driving home from work today, my eyes peeled for a convenience store that actually had The Elusive Liquid, and - miracle of miracles - I found one!! Evidently, the gas had just started flowing, as they were putting the little plastic numbers back up on the price board right as I pulled in. I only got half a tank, so as to leave a little more for my fellow man. Smugly driving on to pick up Annie from Doggie Day Care, I realized, "DAMN IT - I am a people pleaser yet again!!!!!" Everyone else at that station was filling up his car, and some were even filling up extra gas tanks in their truck beds or hatchbacks. But, I felt the need to be a good citizen, to take no more than I truly needed. Is this a woman thing? A Southern thing? A co-dependent thing? What????? Because now, in defiance of whatever it is, I am sitting at home telling Yancey he can get his own damn dinner (although he's already started making us both dinner) and that the laundry ain't going to do itself and that I am getting a manicure tomorrow and that I want Starbucks at breakfast. He's like, "What in God's name are you talking about?"

Awwwwww hell.....I don't know. But, if it makes you happy, I'll give you some of my gas.

Love Y'all!

Ummmm....yeah

So, I was talking to my dear friend, Glynis, just now and I recounted a story to her about tonight that would probably bear including here based on my last entry. If only to redeem myself in my own mind.

Yancey worked late tonight, and I did the whole nighttime routine w/the boys. Fussy fussy fussy because they spent today at preschool, but still, we had some moments with both of them in my lap in our chair reading Goodnight Moon (which will probably end up on my headstone, I've read it so much).

I was kissing their heads as they babbled and saying, "I love you." Foster was mimicking me, which was cute, but I thought he was just practicing sounds. So, when they were both in their beds, and I was at the door telling them to blow me kisses and "I love you," all of a sudden Foster peeks up and says, "Wuv woo." OMG - my last nerve just got a lot stronger.

Love y'all!

What The World Is Like When You Can't Talk

Well, let's just jump right in, shall we?

I am just going to say it......right now, I like one of my kids more than the other. I *love* them both equally, and I truly hope I treat them both the same. But, at the end of the day, I am happier to put Foster in the crib for night-night. I vascillate between thinking this is probably normal (actually, Parenting magazine says it is, so detractors can suck it) and feeling like I am the Wickedest Witch of the West after all we've been through.

*Actually, you can just tack on "after all we've been through" to any statement I make when I am feeling guilty about not being Caroline Ingalls (REPRESENT, my 1970s sisters!!)*

Anyway.......Foster is walking a thin line right now on the filament that is my last nerve. So, in the moments when I agonize over not having the infinite patience that other mothers must have, I think about what his world must be like. The kid can't talk. He is very verbal and loves to say words and mimic and point and verbalize. But, he can't say, "Yancey is hogging the spotlight, and that is pissing me off." Or, "You guys have been sitting in those 2 chairs for an hour, and I am so bored I think my brain is turning to wood." So, what else is he supposed to do but hit, bite, cry, stand on his table, eat ice off the floor like the dog and flip his highchair over and stand in between the legs crying because he is "Tuck" (i.e., stuck.....PS - he's not stuck). Is it because I waited too late to have kids? Do people who are parents in their 20s have more patience or interest in diversion? Hell, are they ever even tired?? I know I wasn't tired in my 20s! Hahahaha - I had a blast, didn't you?? ;-) Ahhhhh, Tuaca and Jim Beam and a shift that didn't start until 11:30AM. Good times.

Anyway, so I started wondering what my world would be like if I couldn't communicate with anyone around me. I included not typing or writing or using signs - because it's not a fair comparison otherwise. OMG - I almost hyperventilated. Then I had a sip of wine and said a few words out loud and realized it wasn't *really* real. But, man oh man, what a world would that be?? And, why do they make little people who can't talk have to interact with big people who ONLY talk? I mean, we don't know what to do with that. We try to put words in their mouths and end up sounding ridiculous ("I think you are feeling frustrated because your brother took the lacing string away and stuck it up his nose. I validate you and think you are a big brave boy for taking your lumps in timeout when you bit him.") And, if you think that's what I really say, think again. It's more like "Oh PLEASE, just stop crying already. Are you mad? Sad? Frustrated? Hungry? Wet? Oh yeah, you can't TALK! Never mind - I'll just get you a snack - how 'bout that?"

So, at least I am trying to think about what it must be like for these little guys....they are so smart and fearless, but they can't tell you anything about it. Now that would just suck. So, now that I've gotten that off my chest (and they've been in bed, quiet, for a good hour) I think I feel more relaxed and zen about my approach.

Until tomorrow.

Love y'all!

Well, well, it's been 9 months - how the hell are ya?

I guess I got carried away with my life and neglected to write anything more on this site. That will be remedied soon. Now that I have recovered my forgotten password and remembered that I actually have a site to write on. More soon.