Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Here's your f*ckin update. Now shut up.

I'm sick. And I'm tired. And cranky. Bleh!

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I really hate summer. The last few weeks have been rainy too, and that sucks just slightly more than the blistering heat. My kids have come to expect constant entertainment, and as a result, my online time is limited. I try to keep mental notes of all the faaaaaabulous things the Apes and I have been doing so that when I get a few minutes to myself, I can blog them for whatever readers have stuck around. Here's what I can remember. Enjoy.


Stitch N' Pitch, and The Ish.

I got to go to Stitch N' Pitch again this year! Last year I went with the lovely Shannon. This year I met a lovely crocheter whom I'll call Maeby in one of my many online hangouts and we kinda set up a blind date. I even made her a corsage, because I'm such an awesome date.

Did YOUR date make YOU a corsage? Shoulda gone with ME.



Seriously, I'm the funnest date ever. I'm such a great date that it's like my gift to the world. Sucks that I'm kinda off the market.

The plan was that I would pick Maeby up at her work, and as I usually do with the people I meet, I established myself early on as what I call An Ish Person. Know what that means? That means if I say I'll meet you at 5, that means 5-Ish. Not everyone is an Ish person, and I really do try to respect the people who aren't, and that's why I try to lay it out in the beginning; so we can determine our Ish compatability. R, for example, is most emphatically NOT Ishy (and I really wasn't either, until I had kids). But I am now, and I tend to prefer the company of other Ishers.

Sometimes it might be necessary to calibrate your Ish when determining Ish compatability, but generally the Ish refers to the common socially acceptable window of time that you can still count as close enough to the agreed-upon time without pissing the other person off. To me, 10 - 15 minutes is the Ish. It allows for traffic and unforseeable circumstances like uncooperative kids and whatnot. At any time within the Ish, if I can see that I'm going to arrive outside the Ish, I'll always call. I'm not that big a jackass that I'd show up half an hour late without explanation or apology. See? Ideal date.

Anyway, the SNP seats were WAY better this year, the Cardinals won, it was a beautiful night, Maeby was totally cool and we each won a prize in the door prize drawing. She won yarn and I won the Vogue Knitting book Stitchionary - righteous!! We drank $8 margaritas - which I will say, were not worth $8 - and after the game we accidentally took the Metrolink to the wrong side of the river, but it was hilarious and quickly rectified. A good time was had by all.


Tito's Ears.

The next momentous event in my life was taking my baby to get the tubes put in his ears. There's something deeply unsettling about seeing your kid under anesthesia. But the worst is knowing they trust you so inherently, when you know what's going to happen to them and they don't. That just makes ya feel like the worst parent in the world.

When they opened the door to let me know he was done, I could hear him screaming all the way down the hall. He wasn't even all the way awake yet. He was soooo pitiful. I held him until my arm fell asleep. And of course I took pictures, mostly for R because I knew he'd be there if he could and he knew how hard it would be for me. But I can share them with you too.

He started out playful and almost giddy.


Checkin the place out.


His little panties were funny, peekin out the back of his dress.


Here's when I started to cry. Ooooh! The wagon! Fun!!!
No, not really... they're about to cut into your HEAD.


This part was really heartbreaking too.


Beebie and Pie were jealous that Tito got to have a popsicle and Sprite for breakfast.


Time to go!


He screamed the ENTIRE way home. I stopped at Walgreens to get him some Tylenol and he didn't want to get out of the van. It occurred to me to leave him in the van and run in real quick like a bunny, but the way he was screaming I just knew someone would think he was screaming because his crack whore mother left him in the van while she went and got some pseudoephedrine for her meth lab and I'd get arrested. So I toted his 50-pound ass into Walgreens on my hip while he screamed in my ear.

I'm a mom. It's my job.


Sick of being sick.

Remember the Strep I had on Mother's Day? R has the Strep now. He missed two days of work, and, dutiful wife, I took care of him. Which means, of course, now I'll get it - for the second time in a month - and he'll have to go back to work and I'll have to do everything I normally do and nobody will take care of MY ass. It's nobody's fault, I know R'd take care of me if he could, but he can't, and it just sucks. It makes me more sad than angry.

R wants me to get better, of course. Why? So I won't have to skip out on Father's Day like I did Mother's Day. Y'know, since it was such a cake walk to be home alone in bed with a fever and sore throat and a giant vat of yogurt (for my blazing cooter, don't forget). Yeah. LOVED that. No, R doesn't want to have to deal with any FIL drama that might be associated with my absence, regardless of the reason for it. Jesus, I wish I could reach down my throat, pull out my own spleen and beat FIL into a fuckin coma with it.


Other Random Shit.

I spent the weekend watching Season 3 of Weeds. I love that show. I would totally do Conrad. Yeah, I said it.

Oh, and KOFA has a kilt. He doesn't like me referring to my son's undergarments as "panties", but he'll wear a manskirt. Without panties. I mean, I'm assuming. I didn't check.

Rock on!!!

18 comments:

Kevin C said...

I's no' a skirrrt, i's a KEELT!

And there's two ways to wear a kilt: the wrong way, and the way that let's you answer the question "What are you wearing under your kilt?" with, "My boots." Except that I haven't found anyone who makes boots in size 14 for less than "One million dollars" (cue pinky finger to corner of mouth) - or any other amount of money that I haven't been able to afford in the last decade. So my answer would have to be, "My sandals."

Not even a ribbon this time. It was a Ren Faire, not a costume party.

And not a single damn kilt check all day. Probably on account of the kids running around us at all times.

Evil Baritone said...

I need to get that season 3 of Weeds. I would totally take up smokin' because of that show...that is, if it were legal, of course. ;-)

Penny Karma said...

You wear size 14 boots?

Mother of Fuckin' Christ...

Fetch me the smelling salts.

Kevin C said...

Thought you knew that already...

Penny Karma said...

I did. I just wanted to say Mother of Fuckin' Christ. Twice.

Penny Karma said...

Plus, I think people like to read our playful banter.

Ferris Family said...

I live for your playful banter. It's the only reason I get out of bed.

Kevin C said...

Really? That's why Anti-Stella gets out of bed? I'd have thought it was the incessant chatter of little children.

Not that that is much different from our playful banter.

Bezzie said...

Is this a private commenting session or can anyone comment ;-)?

Trillian42 said...

I'd totally go on a date with you. And it would rock. I'm an Ish, too - and I totally agree on the 10-15 minute window. We should so live closer to each other.

No, wait. That could be dangerous for the rest of the world.

And the KOFA may have a kilt, but does he have a Utilikilt? Those rock. I'm still trying to convince my hubby to get one. They're hot.

Georgiann said...

I can't decide which is better -- PK's blog or PK's comment page. I'll let you know later-ish.
Tito all better?

ZantiMissKnit said...

I like to think of myself as an ISH person, but I think I'm too anal to be one. I'd still go out on a date with you, and I'd make you a corsage!

I hope you get better soon! You need some peniscilian (size 14!!!) to clear up that infucktion.

I'm so mature.

Cheryl said...

"Seriously, I'm the funnest date ever. I'm such a great date that it's like my gift to the world. Sucks that I'm kinda off the market."

but do you put out???

;)

Kevin C said...

Sigh, all these ISH people. I'm really not an ish person myself, generally. But I tend to be laid back enough that I only get worked up about it if the event is on a time schedule. (Like church, a movie, or reservations. If it's an arbitrarily picked time, then whatever.)

Penny Karma said...

Well, yeah, if it's something that's going to start at a certain time, then sure, I'm considerably less Ishy in those situations.

And thanks for leaving Cheryl's Put-Out question to everyone's imagination. :)

Sayin' Maybe said...

I have arrived in blog-land, my ishy friend! (Watch out, world!) Woohoo to ishy-ness and friend-ness! And yeah, you do give the bestest date ever. (Oh, did I say that right?) ;-)

SiressYorkie said...

I'll tell you what, you fickle little floozie...if I'm coming round to pick your butt up for a date, you'd better be ready ON TIME, not this "ish" nonsense, and you'd better be looking HAWT with your Wonderbra pushing your ta tas right into your nose and your hair teased right into the stratosphere.

Gettin' all uppity...

Bet you won't be so "ish" when it comes to spending my damn money on your KMart shopping sprees.

PSHT. Women.

Batty said...

Hugs.

And yeah, I'd totally date you if we weren't both off the market and if I were in any way attracted to women. Heck, make me one of those corsages, and I just might explore swinging the other way...

Hang in there. You're a terrific mom.