In about a month, I'll be living in this house:
And my kids will play in this backyard:
And decorate this playroom:
And given where I've come from in my life, all of these facts make me feel pretty damn good.
I really don't like forwarded emails. I am that person that will immediately run to Snopes.com everytime I get something in my inbox that seems even the slightest bit incredulous (and most of the time, I'm right).
But today I actually got a good one. A few lines that made me laugh out loud. So, rather than forwarding to random email contacts (which is my policy to NOT do), I'm posting it here.
Random Thoughts From People Our Age...
Editor's note: I'm pretty sure that by "our age" it was inferred 20-30 somethings.
1. I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.
2. More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.
3. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
4. I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter?
5. Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.
6. That's enough, Nickelback.
7. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
8. Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on Facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with?
9. Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no Internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.
10. There is a great need for sarcasm font.
11. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the f was going on when I first saw it.
12. I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.
13. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
14. I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
15. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
16. The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.
17. A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.
18. Was learning cursive really necessary?
19. Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".
20. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
21. Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.
22. My brother's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us." Classy, bro.
23. Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".
24. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?
25. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!
26. Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' Examples: I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse) ..ummm ...Goonies"
27. What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?
28. While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.
29. MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.
30. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.
31. I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.
32. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.
33. I would like to officially coin the phrase 'catching the swine flu' to be used as a way to make fun of a friend for hooking up with an overweight woman. Example: "Dave caught the swine flu last night."
34. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.35. Bad decisions make good stories
36. Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!
37. Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?
38. If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.
39.. Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....
40. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.
41. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.
42. There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.
43. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
44. "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.
45. I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'
46. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
47. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
48. When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light Internet stalking.
49. I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.
50. As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.
51. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
52. It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.
53. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
54. Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.
55. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, hitting the G-spot, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I’d bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...
56. My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?
57. It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.
58. I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.
59. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.
60. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.
61. The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard before dinner.
There is a secret my Husband kept from me until after our nuptials. He is completely and unequivocally a geek. G.E.E.K. He's probably read every Star Wars novel out there, he asked for (and got) a Luke Skywalker Lightsaber for Christmas and was totally serious about wanting it. He knows all manner of Star Trek trivia, and his latest foray into Geekdom would be an OBSESSION with World of Warcraft (oh yes, he is).
I didn't know is was so bad, or maybe I ignored the fact, until long after he'd captured me for good, so by then I was just stuck having to understand his quark and GET OVER IT.
This got harder when he started secretly inserting his Star Wars madness into our daily life, by oh so subtly making sure everything living creature in our home was somehow Star Wars themed. This is how he agreed to name our first dog together Maggie, because (wink, wink) there is a character named Maggie in one of the novels.
When he suggested the name Luke for our second dog, it DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO ME why he did, but I liked it so I agreed. That guffaw goes directly to me. How obvious.
He told me months after our first child was born that he liked the name we'd picked out together so much because, you guessed it, Liam Neeson played Qui-Gon Jinn in Phantom Menace, so it MUST be a good name.
Oh, and here's a picture of Daddy and Liam on Halloween one year:
A video to share. Why? Because there is nothing better on this blue planet than my two giggly boys. It's possible I am the teeniest, tiniest, little bittiest bit biased. But, whatever.
(And, don't worry, they're okay there at the end.)
The other day, while I was flipping through my Parents magazine, my eye caught the first paragraph of one of the articles because it started something like, "my son, Liam, was 3-1/2 when I figured out how to get him to pick up his toys." Obviously, my interest was piqued.
The author went on to describe how she invented the Pickup Fairy, who would swoop in and take away all of her Liam's toys for one week if he didn't pick them up at night. It seemed to work like a charm for him.
I stewed on this for a few days. My Liam would do little more than half-heartedly toss a toy here and there into his own bin at night, or any other time for that matter, so maybe there was something to this.
Opportunity presented itself a few days later, on a Friday evening, as we were headed home from the store. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Liam, when we get home we're going to need to take a bath.
Liam: I don't wanna! Whine, whine. whine.
Me: Well, Liam, you're going to have to take a bath or (pause) or the Bath Fairy is going to (long pause) um, take away you're bedtime snack!
Liam immediately stopped whining. I watched the wheels turning in his head through the rear view mirror, before he finally said: The Bath Fairy?
Me: Yes. The Bath Fairy is going to take away your bedtime snack if you don't take a bath.
Liam: Oh. OK. I will take a bath.
Me (seizing the opportunity): And Liam, the Pickup Fairy is going to take away your toys for one week if you don't pick them up before bedtime!
At this point Liam started asking a lot of questions. By the time we got home it had been established that the Bath Fairy and the Pickup Fairy lived in Wigiland. They are sisters, you see, and they live in a blue house together. They do not fly, but rather they disappear and reappear when they want to go somewhere, like say, my house to take away bedtime snacks or toys for one week.
Liam took his bath, and picked up his toys that night.
While I was shampooing my hair that night, I was congratulating myself on my victory and wondering: how could I parlay this into the dreaded potty training. Oh potty training, a sore subject in my house. Despite fully understanding the concept of using the potty, my son has had absolutely no interest in doing such a thing. Zip. Zero. Zilch. I had pretty much convinced myself that he'd be at least 16 before potty training could even begin.
I contemplated for a while. I didn't want the Potty Fairy to be a negative thing. She couldn't take anything away for not going potty, that would be counterproductive, I was sure. But what if, what if, she just got really happy whenever Liam uses the potty?
Yes! That's it!
First thing Saturday morning I took Liam's diaper off and explained to him that the Bath Fairy and the Pickup Fairy had a cousin: The Potty Fairy. (Who, if you must know, lives in a yellow house across the street. In Wigiland.) I told him that the Potty Fairy would just be really, really happy if Liam would go potty in the potty.
He had one accident first thing that morning. I told him that was OK, but next time he should try the potty, and the Potty Fairy would be SO HAPPY!
And that was it, that did the trick. He used the potty for the rest of the day. And the next day. And the following week, he had a few accidents here and there at Grandma's house during the day, but HE WAS USING THE POTTY!
This weekend was the real breakthrough. He doesn't want diapers anymore. He wears big boy underwear, no more looking back. Of course, it may have helped that about midway through the week I informed him that, as an added bonus, once he was completely done with diapers the Potty Fairy would come in the night to take all his diapers away, and would leave cookies behind. I can't be sure, but I think he's just in it for the cookies.
But that, my friends, is how I potty trained my 3 year old in one week. The Potty Fairy and I are new best friends. In fact, I think I'll take her out for a drink sometime soon, she really deserves it for all her hard work.
I submitted this story to This American Life. If you're familiar with the show, you'll understand why I believe it to be the perfect venue for such a strange experience. Since I haven't really shared this story with may people since the event (given that it is so long), I thought I'd also put it here.
My Mother booked what was to be a “vacation of a lifetime,” to Fiji in December 2004. She and her Husband, along with my sister and I and our spouses were geared up for a 10 day tropical getaway.
Getting there turned out to be among the most interesting, and strange things that has ever happened to me.
The problem began at our home city airport in Denver. We had a layover at LAX before heading on to our flight to Fiji on Air Pacific. The associate at DIA offered to check our luggage through, so we could head straight to our next gate. She handed each of us one of those standard airline ticket envelopes with tickets that were clearly marked “boarding pass,” for our connecting flight.
I should mention that my Mother and sister were terrified of flying. They each took a Xanex before leaving Denver.
So, right, back to the story. The travel agent that booked our trip did not provide enough time between flights at LAX. And on top of that, our flight out of Denver was delayed. This meant that when we got to LA we had to RACE across the airport, to get from the United terminal to the International terminal, which I swear were three miles apart! There is only one flight out of LAX to Fiji EVERY OTHER DAY.
While my step-father, my Husband, my brother-in-law and I were running to catch our next flight, my Mother and sister were happily strolling behind us, completely unaware and uncaring of the emergency we faced. Xanax, remember? They may as well have been star-gazing or catching butterflies.
Finally making it to the International terminal, we headed straight for security. Right, because we had “boarding passes.” The TSA officials eyed our boarding passes a little suspiciously, but still let us through. We got to the gate as they were boarding the flight. Whew, right? Not so fast.
When we got to the front of the boarding line, we were informed that we did not have boarding passes and would have to GO BACK to the check-in counter, the one before the security check. We argued and argued knowing that this seemed silly, we were already here, and couldn’t they just check us in at this counter? But we were only losing time with arguing. They would not budge.
Those of us who were not all high on Xanex flatout ran back to the check-in counter. There we found one employee who was clearly about to leave. We explained that we needed to get our tickets. She told us that it was “too late.”
This is where the story really takes a turn for the weird.
I pounded on the counter, telling her she had to check us in. Our bags were already being checked through, the flight is still boarding, just CHECK US IN!
At this point we were about 15 minutes from the scheduled departure.
She repeatedly told us “no,” but when she realized that we were not going to go away, she strolled back to a back office and got someone I can only image to be a supervisor involved.
This person strolled back out, very unaware of our near total-panic-state and proceeded to ask us for our passports. We happily obliged. And she sauntered (I’m not making this up—no sense of urgency at all), back to her office.
Fifteen minutes come and go. Thirty. Maybe even forty-five (I can’t quite remember) before she comes back. Obviously, at this point, we’d lost all hope that we’d make it to Fiji that night.
She proceeds to explain that she can get us on the flight, but that there will not be enough breakfast’s on board to feed us, and, is that OK? We all look at each other dumbfounded and agree, that yes, of course we can forgo breakfast.
She needed a breakfast decline confirmation, though, so the solution? She pulled out a blank sheet of copy paper, and had each of us sign it. She didn’t write anything on it, just had us sign it.
We are now probably an hour past the regularly scheduled departure.
Once we signed the blank sheet of copy paper to prove we did not require breakfast, she gave us our passports and the real boarding passes and told us to follow her.
She mentioned that the flight was now at a different gate. So the six of us followed her quickly through security, down a flight of stairs, onto the tarmac, and into a waiting shuttle bus.
The shuttle bus driver proceeded across several runways, and then parked the bus in a row of other buses, apologized, and got out. We peered through the bus windows to see that the gentleman was, well, taking a leak. Yes, he took a bathroom break in the middle of the tarmac, at LAX, in plain view of his passengers. I guess our destination was just too far to wait.
We get to our destination (which I’d guess took another 5 minutes—he must really have had to go). The shuttle bus driver indicates that “this is the place,” but doesn’t give much detail. There was no plane here. Just an isolated building, with a door. Inside the door was a ramp, leading up to a room. A room with a door, and a breezeway. No Plane, just a room with a door. And we were the only six people in this room with a door.
Forty-five minutes we waited in our room with a door. No one came to tell us what was happening. We started contemplating how we might escape our room with a door without getting run over by airplanes attempting a landing or a takeoff, or perhaps a deranged shuttle bus driver.
Finally, an Air Pacific employee shows up at our room with a door. She said no words, just waited with us.
And then, the most incredible thing of all happened. Two hours after its scheduled departure, a Boeing 747 bound for Fiji pulled up to our room with a door. It was there to pick us up. And, it was full of hundreds of passengers. Passengers who’d been sitting on that plane for the last two hours. And, our seats were at the back of the plane.
After pushing and shoving each other into the breezeway (no one wanted to go first, to face to angry mob of passengers). We all marched past rows and rows of wary passengers, and took our seats.
As it turns out, the plane was having some sort of mechanical issue. We sat on the tarmac for another two hours before finally departing for Fiji. Though the passengers didn’t soon forget us, and in fact, some even recognized us on the flight home and congratulated us for making it on time.
We made it to Fiji, our bags even made it with us, and the rest is, well, history.
We also enjoyed a lovely airline breakfast on the way. We’re not ones to turn down food when it’s presented to us, after all.
Note: I have a picture or two, I'll post later tonight when I get home.
It occurred to me the other day, while I was shampooing my hair, that when my youngest son graduates from high school I will only be 43 years old.
Forty. Three. I started to panic. Forty-three is so young, and my children are my life. What am I going to do with myself when they no longer need me? I’ll have most of my life left to live and the most important thing I will ever do, raising children, will be over!
Then I started to hyperventilate. Have I really let my entire identity become so intertwined with my children that I no longer know who I am? Am I really panicking about something that will happen 17 years from now?
And this is where the motherhood conundrum gets messy. I love my kids so very, very much that I WANT them to be my world. My everything. But I also want to have my own identity. But I feel guilty about having an identity separate from my family. But I know I should have my own identity. But how could I do that, when they are my identity. But…you get the idea.
When I look at Liam, so often my mind pops right back to the very moment he was born. The tiny ball of baby placed on my chest, the collective gasp in the room when he let out his first cry. But here I am, 3 lightening-quick years later, and he’s not even close to that little baby anymore. I love 3-year-old Liam, but I’m STILL wondering whatever happened to my baby?
The other day I stared hard at Quinlan, cruising along the couch with those cubby little legs. He's beginning to say words! Actual english language words! He's feeding himself, seeking independence, rapidly moving toward his first birthday. All I can think is, Wait a minute! Wasn’t he just born, like, last month? I cannot fathom how almost a year has already gone by.
And before I know it, I’ll be 43. Setting up the cake and decorations for my youngest child’s high school graduation, and wondering, now what?
It's important to me that my kids see that I have my own life, my own identity apart from them. I want them to form their own opinions, seek their own passions, have their own unique and glorious identities. But I just can't shake this gut-wretching, heart-dropping feeling that when my job is no longer raising my children, I will no longer know what on earth my job is.
Forty. Three. Oh my god, what will I do?
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