A cautionary tale, or Hang up and park.

I recently talked about how, in some ways, I've become like my Mother in this post. I mentioned briefly how that fact can be a great thing, but focused more on some of the minorly negative aspects so I thought I would spend a bit more time on the good things about Judy.

I mean, I hope she knows how much I love and admire her. I tell her I love her every time we talk on the phone which, admittedly, isn't as often as it should be. But I freely admit to that particular character flaw.

I wish I was more like her in all the good ways. Seriously. The woman volunteered for so many things at church; and still does, made clothes for us, sewed curtains for the whole house, and when the time came, nursed her Grandmother and then her Mother through their final years, and then months, without complaint.
All of this while working as a nurse and Lactation Consultant, and eventually, caring for Grankids.
Goodness knows she prays for everyone but herself. I could go on, but this post would get annoyingly long.

Yes, she has her flaws. Running late and losing kids in the grocery store, as I've already mentioned.

But she never closed her child's head in the van window.

Can you guess who has?

It happened as we were arriving at soccer practice a few weeks ago. It's taken me this long to get over it.
Who am I kidding? I'm still not over it. That was a major adrenaline rush, I tell ya.

As I was pulling in to park the van, Carlo was calling on my cell phone to offer Linus encouragement and soccer advice. Mostly of the "have fun" and "keep your eye on the ball" variety.

Unbeknownst to me, Linus had unbuckled and stuck his head out of the open window. As I'm chatting with Carlo about what time he'll be home and what his award winning dinner will be (yeah, right) I start rolling up all the windows.
Now, I close the phone, set it down and continue rolling up the windows, and even give each of them an extra click, when I hear a gurgly noise from the backseat.
Now, Linus can be a very silly kid, so my first thought is, "what's that goofball up to now".
On the second gurgle, I look back and his head is being squished by the semi-closed window pushed up against his lower jaw.

"OH MY GOD!", I shout. I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything more colorful than that. It's what comes out naturally at these times.
Not that this is a common occurrence.

I plead the fifth. Anyway...

I quickly put the window down, he slides backward, plops in his seat, and the first words out of his mouth are, "I'm OK".

I'm all, "oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry! Are you OK!? Mommy's so sorry!" Kisses all over his head and face, checking for marks, bruises, etc.
He insists he's fine and can he go to practice now? PLEASE?

WOW, I could have run a marathon with that particular adrenaline rush. Usually, I drag a camp chair to the field and sit comfortably during practice.

This time I paced. And paced. And inwardly reprimanded myself the entire 45 minutes, wondering when Social Services would be arriving to take my children away.

So, no more talking and driving... er, parking.

Of course, Linus learned a little something from this also. He is much more careful to ask if he can unbuckle now.

And even though it's nearly impossible with those old crank-up windows...
Thanks Mom, for never squeezing my head in the car window. It makes me love you even more.

one to remember

This is cheating I know, but this is a unforgettable episode from Halloween last year. Well, more specifically, the day after Halloween.
All Saints Day for those fellow Catholics among you.
Many of you already know it, but enjoy it again and I'll come up with something new soon.
Something involving Linus' head and the van window.
How's that for a teaser?


So there I was, Carlo out of town for two weeks, the boys and I nursing our post-Halloween hangovers and I said to myself “ What a beautiful day it’s going to be, why I don’t I take these cranky, obnoxious boys to the park. We’ll feed the ducks, have a little walk, and then go get some lunch” So the dance of “who can take the longest to get shoes on and take the most circuitous route to the car” began.

Half an hour later everyone is finally buckled and relatively happy. We have a nice little walk, overfeed the fat ducks, pet a few dogs, and head back to the car at which point Linus informs me that he needs to pee. It’s no problem though, Mimi’s Café is around the corner and not too pricey, finally I seem to catch a break.

So, park the car, go in. It’s 12 noon exactly so the hostess informs me there is a 10-15 minute wait and gives us our pager. No problem, we’ll probably kill 8 of those minutes getting everyone on and off the potty, washing hands etc. Linus does his thing; Gus does his thing which involves nothing except asking for a reward of a pink m&m when I get his pants back up. Now it’s my turn: “Linus, get away from the door, leave it locked, stand over there, Gus, go stand next to your brother, stop touching your brother, hands to yourself!” You get the picture.

As I stand up to get “put back together” I sense the pager fall out of my pocket and hear the ringing of porcelain as it falls and the simultaneous automatic flushing of the toilet. I think to myself “surely it fell to the floor” I look desperately around the toilet, not there. I look in the toilet, not there either...wait a minute, is that something down in the hole? Oh shit (no pun intended) it is!!! What do I do!! Maybe I can just pull it out...

Yes my friends, I did exactly what you’re thinking. I rolled up my sleeve and stuck my hand in a public toilet. That pager is not coming out... but it’s going down even further! Because as I pull my hand out to go wash up the freakin’ auto flusher starts! NOOOO!

“Linus, put those latch opening skills to work, I need to wash my hands and get the manager!”

Up to this point we have been alone in the bathroom, but now there’s a pee rush. There are only three stalls, so as the third person comes in I warn her, in very general, non self-incriminating language to not use the last stall. As we are walking through the restaurant to find a manager Linus is behind me “Mom what’s that thing in the toilet? Did it fall in? Why did you put your hand in there?” Me: “SHHH!”

We get to the hostess stand, with my head hanging I explain the status of her pager and apologize profusely. She is so sweet, “no problem, I’ll tell the manager and get you a new one” I’m thinking, should I make a run for it? No the kids will only slow me down, I’ll have to stay and face the piped in pseudo-jazz music. We sheepishly sit down in the waiting area with our new pager.

That’s really the end of the story. Gus managed to avoid any head bumps despite climbing in and out of the chair numerous times. Linus did get his arm stuck in the back of his chair and screamed loudly as I tried to remove it, at which point I clamped my hand tightly over his mouth. He managed to get it out on his own eventually. All in all a mostly nice day out with the boys.

I just have to add; only a parent or a plumber could eat a sandwich within 30 minutes of having their hand in a toilet.


Hope you all had a Happy Halloween!

scores a "zero" on the husband-meter

If you were to take a peek in my fridge last Monday you would have thought it was already empty. In need of a good scrub down yes, but mostly empty. Really, not even one bottle of beer.

OK, you got me. The beer lives in the garage fridge. Unfortunately, this fact hasn't curbed my imbibing as much as I'd hoped. The laundry room is much closer, yet it is largely ignored.

The garage though, is visited nightly.


Back to the fridge. So, the plan was to make a dinner with whatever I could find in the mostly empty refrigerator and pantry. The (un)usual suspects:


sesame oil
vegetable oil
onion
carrots
potatoes
bok choy
ginger
Leftover chicken legs
light coconut milk
red curry paste
ramen noodles

I found that I had a good start to a curry of sorts. Not exactly authentic, but we're dealing with the kitchen of a midwestern woman here folks. And yes, I actually had bok choy already.

Since the carrots and potatoes were raw and take a while to cook, I threw them into the wok with the onion and oil on medium heat to get a head start on cooking. Next I added the bok choy and the ginger. About 2 inches of ginger, chopped. What can I say, I like ginger.

Once everything had cooked for 7-10 minutes, I threw in a glass of white wine and let it simmer and reduce.
Wine makes everything (and everyone) better.

When the wine was almost gone, I threw in 1 1/2 tsp or so, of the red curry paste and stirred it around so everything got a little color.

Last came the coconut milk. Gave it a good stir, popped on the lid and let it sit over low heat until the carrots and potatoes were soft.

I served this over plain ramen noodles because that's what I had. I know, I'm not in college anymore, what am I doing with Ramen? Look people, I'm not proud, it was cheap and makes a quick lunch.

I don't recommend the Ramen avenue however. Curry is meant to be with rice. Even Midwestern Housewife Curry. In fact, that's the name of this "recipe". Midwestern Housewife Curry.

And as you have probably gleaned form the title, this will not go down in the regular repertoire as a "go-to" recipe.

Make this at your own risk.
Good luck.

Scatterbrained

It has finally happened. I've become my Mother in yet another aspect of my life. In many ways this is a wonderful thing. Anyone who has met her could expound on this for hours. But, perfect she ain't.
For example, she was almost always late to pick me and my sisters up from school, church, friends' homes, you name it. Plus, and I have a complex about this to this day, she frequently sent me to find something in another aisle while shopping at the grocery store, and then she would disappear!! I was onto her after a while.



Me: You promise you'll be right here?

Mom: Yes, Natalie, just go get the spaghetti.

Me: Promise!?

Mom: Hurry up, and get the spaghetti! Erin, get that out of your mouth! Betsy, stop teasing your sister!

Me: Cross your heart?

Mom: Just go!



So off I would go, quickly as I could so she couldn't move too far. Running back to the place I left her, I would be frantic. She's not here! Spaghetti in hand I would quickly pace the length of the entire store, checking each and every aisle. Sometimes, I would run into one of my sisters who had been sent on a similar errand. I often wondered if she was tired of caring for five girls and was maybe trying to "thin the herd". I haven't yet resorted to this particular method of alone time but I'm not ruling it out entirely.



Back to how I have become like her. This morning I sent poor Linus to school out of uniform. According to the calendar sent out at the beginning of the year it was a no uniform day. I mean, I had it written in my agenda book and everything! To have had it written down... really, this is a big step forward for me.
Apparently, it was changed somewhere along the way. Thankfully, he doesn't appear to be as anxious as I was as a kid, so he'll probably survive this mishap with minimal psychological scarring, but still.
I try, as God is my witness I try, but things just get away from me.



At least my Mom had a few excuses. Like 5 kids, and working night shift for a while, then going back to school for a time, then 12 hour shifts, and did I mention 5 kids.

The good news is, I haven't lost anyone in the grocery store yet.

Not so small victories

I feel so proud, relieved and wary all at once. You see, after 5 and 3/4 years we have reached a milestone in this house. No, Carlo hasn't stopped asking when I'm going back to work. I keep telling him I do work, I just don't get paid nearly enough.
No, the milestone is... wait for it...

*fanfare*

Linus has made it through two whole nights with no pull-up and no accident!

Awesome, right? Now don't get me wrong. I know there will inevitably be setbacks. There will be the urine soaked sheets at 6:45am. One more wrench thrown into the middle of all the getting dressed, breakfasting, brushing teeth, "for the love of all that is holy, get your shoes on!", and oh yeah, can't forget to feed the poor dog.
I know there will be those mornings. But, for today, I will enjoy this small victory.

Now, to tackle the mountain of non-urine related laundry...

Target = Mommy's little helper

Yes, Target.

With a Starbuck's inside.

And no kids. Which means no obnoxiously big cart with extra seats. Yes!

It was great! Except that they didn't have the silly desktop paper holder thingy that fits my other ones. Or a cute autumn-themed runner for the dining table. Or the kind of shoes I want for Gus.
So, I guess not so helpful today after all.

And then, enter the crabby lady who, when I said quite nicely "Excuse me," gave me one of those *heavy sighs* and moved her cart one inch.

REALLY? Is there a rule I don't know about? Only one person in the Dollar Spot at a time?

So, I move forward with my cart knowing full well I will bump into hers. Because she barely moved it! All the while I'm thinking, "I don't why you're so cranky today lady, but do what normal people do and SAVE IT FOR YOUR FAMILY."

In my experience, Target shoppers are generally more congenial than that. If they are exasperated, frustrated, angry, or any other negative emotion it is usually aimed at the whining, screaming, yelling kids they have with them.

That's why, when I had the chance, I went without mine.

Yes, I started a blog

So, here it is.
Another blog.
Another narcissist talking about themselves.
blah, blah, blah. Or should that be blog, blog, blog?

I figure since I'm so bad at keeping in touch with my family and friends, maybe they can see what annoying minutiae I post here and then THEY can get in touch with me.
Then I'll chat with them about what's been going on and I won't be out of the loop.
As much.
Let's face it, I'll still be in the dark. They're almost as bad as I am about these things.
Almost.

Blogging seems akin to communication with someone suffering from Asperger's. Communication, but not on a very personal level...

Like marriage can be at times.

...but I'm doing it anyway.