Friday, March 27, 2009
Dear Ginormous Spider That Came Out Of Nowhere and Scared the Shit out of Me When I Was Planting Strawberry Plants in the Backyard,
I was just trying to flip you over to see if you were a Black Widow (in which case, I would squish the hell out of you) when I... squished the hell out of you.Sorry about that, since you turned out to not be a Black widow after all.
My mistake.
Labels: letter to
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Open Letters
Dear Governor Schwarzenegger,It's no secret that you've fucked the state economy so badly that California residents are getting IUOs instead of state tax refunds and that hundreds of employees in the education system are getting pink slips (including 40 people in my son's teeny tiny school district), but what I don't understand is why every time I turn on my tv, I see celebrity-studded commercials for this state.
I'm assuming you're hoping that this will increase tourism to this fair state, but... let me break this to you - California isn't a secret. No one is unaware that the state exists, no one has forgotten about Disneyland or San Francisco or the beaches. If tourism is down it's because the economy sucks ass right now, not because people have forgotten that your big, square, plastic head lives here. How about we take the money that we're spending on those 90 kazillion commercials (many during prime time) and, oh, I don't know, put it back into the schools so kids can, you know, learn?
Look into it, k?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear My Kid's School,
I get that your hands are kind of tied with the whole budget thing and I get that you have to make difficult decidions and let some people, including a couple teachers, go. What I don't get is why you chose to tell one of the fourth grade teachers that, as of June, she's umemployed ON A TUESDAY IN THE MIDDLE OF A SCHOOL DAY. It would seem... what's the word I'm looking for? oh, right, HUMAN or DECENT to do something like this on a Friday, or at least at the end of the day, so she's got a few minutes to compose herself before she has to face her class again.
See if you can finish the week without emotionally scarring my kid and his schoolmates, would ya?
Thanks
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Girls/Women Who Are Out at the Grocery Store in Pajamas Bottoms and Ugg Boots*,
You give up, we get it.
And those heinous boots I can almost accept because they're supposedly really comfortable and warm, but is it really too much to ask that your mopey ass put on some damn pants before you leave the house?
Look into it, k?
Thanks
*I'm not talking about obviously sick people, people shopping for sick kids or anytime between the hours of midnight and six AM.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Pet Peeves for the Week
1) Pediatrician offices that claim to be accepting new patients, then tell you that the first time they can see a new patient is in 2 weeks. Great, I'll give you a call 2 weeks before the next time my kid gets sick.2) Doctor's offices that call themselves a "family practice", yet won't see anyone under 18.
3) Urgent care physicians who are too busy/distracted to listen to a mother when she tells him that her son has strep and that she knows this because he gets strep a couple times a year and she knows the signs and she knows how he reacts to it. (we'll see you in a week when we run out of the cough syrup you prescribed and he's still sick)
4) The phrase "It is what it is". It's such a dismissive fuck of a phrase, like "everything happens for a reason". It's one of those things that people say when they think they should say something, but they don't have anything valid to say and it really doesn't mean anything except "you're fucked". No one ever says "it is what it is" when you tell them that you got a great new job, or that you just won 9 gold medals in the olympics, it's always when your mortgage company doesn't want to take the pay-off that you've offered or your dog has just spontaneously exploded.
Labels: adventures in shitty parenting
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My kid leads a pretty sheltered life, partly because he's an only child (translation: I've got to hang on to him because I don't have a Backup Kid), partly because he's related to me so he's kind of a hermit, and partly because we've never lived in a neighborhood with any kids his age (translation: any time he wants to hang with his friends, it had to be scheduled ahead of time and I had to drive him, which meant that I either left him there for a specific time frame or tried to be friends with the parent).I never really thought it was all that bad until I read this and I realized how vastly different his childhood is from mine - I spent a huge amount of my childhood just hanging out with kids on my block (not to mention how much my world opened up when I got a bike) doing things without parental supervision. We didn't do anything dangerous, per se, but there had to be a small percentage of stuff that we did that wouldn't have gotten a parental stamp of approval.
Currently, we live 0.4 miles from my kid's school, this is the closest he's ever been to a school, so on his second day, it was decided that maybe he didn't need to be driven there and back. By the second week, he was asking me to meet him halfway home. By the third week, he was walking home by himself.
Of course, the first time he walked home by himself (which was actually kind of an accident, I was dying from the flu and happened to be leaving a couple minutes later than usual to meet him, by the time I got out the front door, he was coming up the front walk), my husband freaked the hell out. It's not like he's got to go through a ghetto, adult district and junkyard/meth shopping complex to get home, it's a couple streets in a super quiet suburb. And he's 10. And he's a pretty smart kid, I'm not all that concerned about him going out of his way to approach a windowless van and inquire as to whether or not the person has any spare candy.
So it's been a couple of weeks that the kid has been successfully navigating the mean streets of Santa Maria to get home in one unkidnapped piece and finally my husband is starting to loosen up.
At least once a week, though, the kid comes home and says "Zach/Raymond/Jeoung Soo wanted to know if I could come over after I finish my homework". Normally, he's such a freaking mama's boy that he doesn't go, it's much easier to hang out at home and play Wii or make my husband take him to play basketball, but today, he says that Raymond and Zach want to play basketball at Zach's house after they all finish their homework. I appreciate that they all know that no fun will be had prior to homework being finished so I told him it was fine as long as he got the hell out of the house before his dad got home (otherwise he'd be stuck with a chaperone and what fun is that?)
Once the homework is finished, my kid calls Zach who offers to come pick him up. About two minutes later, this scruffy redhaired kid pedals up to the house and tells my kid to jump on the pegs of his bike. Knowing that my kid is as clumsy as I am and knowing that a trip to the emergency room would be served with a helping "I told you so" and an extra side of "he's never leaving the house again", I suggested that my kid take his own bike and away they went.
My husband gets home and mentions that the munchkin's bike is gone. I point out that the munchkin is gone, too and he gives me The Look. I explain that the homework is done and he's out with his friends. And that he's 10 and the umbilical needs to be cut at one time or another.
"When did you tell him to be home?"
"I didn't. I just told him not to be late."
He sighed with an unimaginable amount of frustration. "I know you're new to this whole parenting thing, but you kind of have to give them some kind of guidelines."
"But I'm not like all the other moms, I'm a cool mom."*
And right before five, guess who rolls up into the driveway, cheeks pink from the cold, hands filthy from whatever shenanigans they were up to and a smile plastered on his dirty little face?
*
Labels: adventures in shitty parenting
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I've got a confession - I watch "American Idol". I have since season one (and firmly believe that Kelly Clarkson is the only thing decent to come out of all of this). I watch it all, auditions, Hollywood week, and the "real" shows, but I've really got to say that this year jumped the shark. Hard.First of all, the new judge - Shiny-shirts McSmug? Why does she act like we're supposed to know who she is? I kind of want to punch her in the throat for being there and acting like she's so important. I'm guessing they wanted someone who could be the American female version of Simon, but... just... no.
Second, didn't this used to be a singing competition? Now it's an OMG-YOUR-BACKSTORY-IS-SOOOOOOO-SAD/UPLIFTING/AMAZING competition. Next year, you're going to need to be a deaf girl with no arms, no legs, whose entire family was wiped out by leperosy and/or terrorist attacks to even get on the show.
Also, I've just got to say this - I don't like the widower guy and the blind guy creeps me out
Also, every year they have country theme week and every year, the judges complain at the contestants for singing country songs... One of those things needs to stop (please let it be country week... although it was kind of lol-tastic seeing Randy "Skeletor" Travis being made so uncomfortable by the gay guy with the black nailpolish.)
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Because sometimes d-bags are a-holes and sometimes a-holes are d-bags, but the two are not mutually exclusive.
"Daddy, Daddy, Mom just called some high school kids d-bags!" my kid shouted gleefully as he bounded into the house, all pink-cheeked from the cold.My kid was outside riding his bike and I was outside watching him (because that's the kind of overprotective parents I am) and petting my neighbor's precious little Sheltie who wanders around between their yard and mine, and we hear some popping noises coming from down the street - we see two oaf-y teenage boys lumbering down the street, lighting matches and throwing them in the air, and tossing down those little tiny firecracker things that explode when they hit the ground.
My kid's about done with his bike riding and we're about ready to head back into the house when I see those kids toss one of their little cap things way too close to the dog.
I cross my arms and put on my best Serious Mom Face. One of the teens is guiltily looking around and happens to see me, instantly recognizing Serious Mom Face. He hits his friend who is still happily throwing little firecrackers in my neighbors' yards.
"Hi!" calls out the first kid. "How are you doing?"
"Could you guys please cut that out? There are pets and kids around here."
"We're not doing anything," the second one laughs.
"Come on, guys, don't be douchebags, just have a little respect."
"Hey! We're not douchebags!"
"All evidence to the contrary."
"Huh?"
Then I had to calm down the neighbor's dog and make sure she got home safely before I could get my kid back in the house.
"Mom, that was so cool that you called them d-bags!" my kid said proudly.
"I only called them d-bags because they were being d-bags."
"Why didn't you call them a-holes, too?"
"Because I felt that d-bags was sufficient in this situation."
"Oh," he shrugged. "Maybe next time."
Labels: adventures in shitty parenting
Thursday, March 05, 2009
2 regular doctors1 orthopedist
and a full month of physical therapy and you know the only thing that has really helped my degenerative disk?
A damn week on a Wii Fit*.
What the hell?
I'm not exactly a Cirque du Soleil contortionist (yet), but I'm no longer hobbling around like a broken turtle. Two or three years of nearly constant pain, too many co-pays to count and all it takes is a few minutes with a video game to take it away? Damn, next time I'm sick**, I'm just going to Game Stop.
*a birthday present to myself since, with the move and all, my birthday was pretty much overlooked this year. Also, watching my husband and son play the hula hoop game is nothing short of hilarious and well worth the cost of the game.
** not true - I've atually got the flu right now and don't think there's anything short of a shotgun blast that can make this feel better.
Monday, March 02, 2009
So, I've been a little congested, achy and dizzy for the past couple days, but I wasn't willing to accept that I might be getting sick until I spent nearly half an hour watching "How to Make an American Quilt" en Espanol before realizing that it wasn't in English. (okay, I wasn't really watching watching it, but I had it on in the background and I really should have recognized that it was in a different language)Also, what sane, healthy person willingly watches "How to Make an American Quilt"?