Random Ramblings

It's that time again!

Never Recovering

A couple evenings ago one of our offspring walked in on us.

Yes.

It's probably every parents' nightmare and wouldn't you know, the one time we forget to lock the door and a kid comes to our door at night, which never happens. I'm sure you'll be able to read all about it in this kid's future book:

Traumatized: An Autobiography

Chapter One: I wanted to stick a fork in my eyes

I am very thankful that it wasn't Jack. He's not old enough to know things but he's old enough to know something. He would probably just move out of the house because he couldn't stand to be near us anymore.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

"Taking my mattress out to the workshop. Please don't contact me ever again. You are both dead to me."


I'm sure we'll hear all about this decades down the line, at a family card game or something.

"Hey, you guys remember the time I walked in on you? My life was all downhill from there."

Kids, we just don't have enough in the therapy fund for all of you. You're just going to have to deal.


What Dreams May Come

A friend of ours told us he takes magnesium supplements to feel more refreshed in the morning. He did tell us a side effects is vivid dreams. So far my dreams have consisted of:

1. Everything in my friend's new house is made of paneling. Everything - walls, furniture, food. I struggle throughout the entire dream trying to figure out how to be supportive and positive about her new house but, at the same time, ask her what the frick is wrong with her. I sit at their panel table and try to cut my panel food with my panel knife.

2. I am driving around an unknown neighborhood. It's snowing - a blizzard. The road is treacherous. A white cat is sitting in the passenger seat, arguing with me about directions - we're lost. The cat is my best friend. I know I love the cat, we are like sisters, but I want to wring its furry little neck because she won't stop harping on me about where we should be going.

3. I'm at Comic Con and I'm eating Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. There's a girl there that everyone likes but I don't and I can't figure out why I don't like her. She's small, a dwarf. It turns out she's actually Hermione from Harry Potter (not the actress but the character come to life). I realize the reason I'm mad is because I thought she was taller and I feel betrayed.

So there you have it, a completely legal way to spend the first moments of each morning questioning your sanity. Recently I read an article that said our dreams are secretly our desires and our minds play them out. I don't think I want to drive around lost in a blizzard with a abrasively chatty cat but hey, maybe I do.

Violence Starts Young

Noah is in pre-k this year and everyone is happy about it. Everyone. The big kids and I get to have quiet homeschool times where we read about Ho Chi Minh (did you know that the city and trail are named after a person who began a revolution in Vietnam? I had no idea. It's so exciting to learn stuff) and discuss Einstein's thought experiments and watch Youtube videos on why cereal is attracted to magnets (there's iron in it but also something about the properties of water - I totally get it).

Anyway, Noah is very serious about pre-k. He tells us all the serious things that happened each day - from the letters they learned to the kinds of cookies they ate for snack (I want to send healthy snacks but every parents seems to send delicious desserts like pudding and rice krispy treats. If I send carrots and hummus, they will probably shank Noah at recess with blunt scissors). He loves going and being picked up by my best friend and her kids.

Noah also tells us how good he is each day. Which is both a frustrating and heartening thing for a mom. While you want your kid to be wonderfully behaved around other people, it's also a real kick in the teeth.

"So what you're saying is that you're completely capable of being kind and sweet and using a soft voice and being obedient and not screaming that you'll never sleep ever again while throwing toys and yet you choose not to be that way when you're at home?

You little punk, you.

The conversations go something like this:

"Mom, I didn't hit anyone today."

"That's good. Hitting hurts people."

"I also didn't pinch. Or kick. Or bite."

It just starts to escalate.

"Or stomp. Or spit. Or punch people's head."

...Or use an AK-47, or detonate a bomb, or steal someone's identity online..."

Please stop telling me all the kinds of violence you could have engaged in but didn't.

We'll be sleeping with one eye open.

And locking the door.