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Who’s That Girl?
August 31, 2009 by NaysWay · 5 Comments
Somebody, I’m not naming any names, had a first day of second grade.
Somebody, I’m not naming any names, had a first day in public school.
Somebody, still not naming names, came home from that first day and told me she only made one friend and only liked her new school “a little bit”.
Somebody, still nameless, introduced me to more than one friend by the next day during the school’s ice cream social. In fact, Somebody had quite a few friends. Somebody was quite the social butterfly at the ice cream social.
Somebody had better not get a note sent home saying she talks too much during class.
Somebody’s doing just fine.
Somebody’s parents? We’re getting there.
This is the life of Somebody. You just don’t know what’s going to be thrown into the drama pile, or the totally calm, totally serene, man take a hit of this joint and chill the frick out-pile. And Somebody is getting oh em gee TALL! And Somebody is losing all the baby fat from her face. And WAAAAAHHH-HAA-HAAAAAHHHH, MY BABY!
*sniff*
Happy Accidents
August 28, 2009 by NaysWay · 6 Comments
Eddie: I am grateful for you. In all the world, thing I am most grateful for is you.
Kiki: If that’s a line from one of your movies…
Eddie: No, that one’s mine.
–America’s Sweethearts, 2001
I probably wasn’t supposed to have such great kids, but I do.
Given the type of things I thought about life; the way I wanted to end mine so quickly; the deep, dark holes I wasn’t able to pull myself out of alone; the fact that I never thought I’d want to or get to be someone’s mother… it makes me grateful I stuck around a little longer. Grateful I was given so many chances (you have no idea) to get it right.
I probably wasn’t supposed to have goofy friends, but I do…
And sometimes they grow and leave you behind. But that doesn’t mean you don’t still think of them, or continue to be compelled to call them “friend”. After all, birds have to fly.
I probably wasn’t supposed to marry my best friend, but I did.
Probably wasn’t supposed to marry someone shorter than me either, but, you know. Whatever. *wink*
Probably shouldn’t love to take pictures the way I do considering how GREAT I am at it, and all. But I do.
Hey, we can’t all be Annie Leibovitz. Doesn’t stop me from trying, though.
I probably shouldn’t love dogs more than people…
…Wait a minute. What am I saying?
I probably shouldn’t have taken a photo of this squirrel…
…Considering I’d be lobbed in the head by an acorn moments later. AND IT WAS HIM, I JUST KNOW IT. That’s alright, little squirrel. I know where you live. This isn’t over.
Good shot though.
What happy accidents are you grateful for?
iPlay: Extreme
August 27, 2009 by NaysWay · 4 Comments
The White girl in me. She likes to come out and overtake me sometimes. I don’t have a problem with her. She gets me. I get her. We rock out. It’s just that simple.
When I was in grade school, my mother had a tall, good-looking, White friend (his name was Tim… at least I’m almost positive it was) from her office who moonlighted in a band. He had a mullet before I knew what mullets were. He wore stonewashed jeans. He had a pierced ear. He appealed to the White girl in me and she had the hugest crush on him. Not me. The White girl. I can’t control that chic sometimes. She sees brown hair and green eyes, and it’s all over. Tim was HAWT… said the White girl. Yeah. That’s the ticket.
Tim would frequently make mix tapes for me and my mother since we were (and still are) avid music listeners. Remember mix tapes?! Those things were huge in the 80′s and 90′s. These young kids nowadays have no idea what they’re missing with their iPods and mp3s and streaming audio. All I needed were super large headphones – you know the kind that wrapped around your whole head, they were so big – my boom box (yeah, I said it), and a mix tape. Ah, memories.
One day, Tim gave my mother a mix tape of some group we’d never heard of before. This was a common occurrence with Tim as most things he listened to we’d never heard before. Maybe all things, now that I think about it. Anyway, Tim had good taste in music so we trusted his judgement. This was the tape:
And this was the song that kept me up nights singing over and over again with my ginormous headphones:
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Good times. Good. Times.
Tim was awesome.
And HAWT. Nice, HAWT Tim with the mullet. *sigh*
ROFL
August 26, 2009 by NaysWay · Leave a Comment
This is Charley Steiner.
Charley Steiner was a sports anchor for ESPN’s SportsCenter for 14 years.
Charley Steiner is now a play-by-play announcer for the LA Dodgers.
(I probably could have linked Charley’s Steiner’s name to Wikipedia and have you read all this stuff yourself, but where’s the fun in that?)
Charley Steiner makes my husband laugh harder than I’ve ever heard him laugh. Ever. He makes BFam ROFL. A lot.
And when coupled with BFam’s favorite sports memory in history?
Aw dang. There he goes. On the floor. Somebody get him before he pees down there.
No Place Like Home
August 25, 2009 by NaysWay · Leave a Comment
I often mention the personalities of my children. Night and day. Yin and yang. Oil and water. Frick and frack. With the exception of gender, they are as opposite as two people can be. Mooter is dramatic. Booger is subtle. Mooter is loving, affectionate and secretive. She oozes goodwill for her fellow man. Booger?
You’ve met Booger, right? I mean, I’ve talked about the three-year-old tornado that is my youngest, haven’t I? If you’re up to it, run a search on this site. Type in the word ‘Hellion Booger‘. (Fair warning: She makes you want to jump out a window. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.) Before you say it, I know. She’s three. This is the way three-year-olds behave. I’m not even one of those parents fooling myself into believing she should mirror any personality of her sister around this same age. They are different. I get it.
Lately, I’ve been warring with Booger’s daycare. I hate this place. I’ve never hated a daycare as much as I do this one, and I’ve never been one to act on desires of blowing up buildings. OK, that’s not entirely true, but I haven’t wanted to act on that impulse as much as I have in the three years she’s been enrolled.
As parents, BFam and I are awarded the task of figuring out the best means of support and structure for the well-being of our children. We have never felt so helpless with that task as we have with this daycare. And I’m sure there are worst places. But here’s where the comparisons between our two spawn become acutely evident. Mooter attended a well-to-do daycare with a well-to-do price tag. (She was our first. We were new parents. That’s what you do when you can afford it.) My, how things can change with the addition of a second child and a recession factored in. We are not slumming it in daycare, but we aren’t doing as well as we’d like and it’s starting to show.
Mooter was in daycare one year before attending kindergarten. It was the facilities’ equivalent to preschool.
Booger is severely behind. Things her father and I feel she should know at this age just aren’t being taught. And Booger is smart. Sure, all parents say that about their kids. But Booger is too smart for her own good-type of smart. I can build a bomb in my room out of fertilizer-type smart. Give me a file and I can break out of my cell-type smart. Turn my toothbrush into a shank-type smart. Criminally smart. Felon smart. Street smart.
Dear God, we’re raising a thug.
BFam was a Stay At Home Dad (SAHD) while I worked; not by choice but circumstances. What could have been a time to reflect on bad luck and misfortune turned into the best happy mistake we could have ever made. He home schooled Mooter, and she was one of the most advanced kids in her class. I miss those days. Booger needs those days. But if the economy has taught us nothing it’s that you’d better be financially secure before wanting to give 100% to the welfare of your children, because it’s going to cost you.
Maybe it’s the daycare. Maybe it’s the frustration talking. Maybe I should just go with my instincts and blow up the building. For all you Stay At Home parents out there (especially those man enough to be SAHDs), thank you. You have no idea how much I wish I could join you right now.
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