Tag Archives: quirks

From now on there will be a stocked diaper bag in my car at all times

We are not spontaneous people. We research all of our decisions. We discuss things ahead of time. Even minor things, like weekend plans and shopping trips.

So that’s why, this evening, after our weekly trip to the library, it was VERY out of character for me to say, “Let’s pick up dinner from Publix and have a picnic at the park!”

I’ve been saying lately that we need to go on more adventures. We need to do more FUN things. We have no funny stories to tell. We’ve always been homebodies, which I love, but now that I’m a SAHM — well. Pretty much I never leave the house anymore. Unless we’re going to my mom’s house. Which is the house where I grew up. SO IT’S PRACTICALLY STAYING HOME.

So. We had no diaper bag. I’d left both girls’ water cups at home. Vio was wearing sandals and neither child had a hat. This is enough normally to induce PANIC in me. I am a PLANNER. There are rules to outdoor play that must be followed. (Invisible authority figurrrres!)

But, in the name of adventure, we soldiered on.

We got all set up at a picnic table (out of the sun! Hat problem solved!) and started to eat, when I noticed a squirrel run up to our table. This isn’t at all uncommon, but what WAS uncommon was how close the squirrel was getting. I said as much to Matt, to which he replied, “Not really. I thought I was going to look over to see him sitting on the table or something.”

And then the squirrel says DON’T MIND IF I DO. And hops up on the table.

No big deal, right? We’ll just scare him away! Pretend to throw food! ACTUALLY throw food!

I … never thought I was afraid of squirrels. From far away they frolic and scamper with their feather duster tails trailing behind them. Up close they look very CONNIVING. And hungry for my babies’ noses.

And this is where I turn into a woman from a cartoon who has just seen a mouse. I probably would have jumped up on the table if the squirrel hadn’t already claimed that position. So Matt does the manly thing.

He gets up from the table, and starts CHASING THE SQUIRREL. Around and around the table. In circles. While holding Roo, no less.

In the midst of this debacle, I hear … Mommy? I have to go pee pee.

Sweetheart? Can’t you see daddy is being chased by chasing a squirrel?

I lead Vio to the restroom, all the while thinking how much simpler life would be if I had BOYS instead of GIRLS. It was decked out in the style of most park restrooms, complete with fixtures falling off the walls, broken door locks, and a hand-scribbled “OUT OF ORDER – DO NOT USE” sign on two of the three stalls.

[I’d like to interrupt this story to admit, PROUDLY, that I have no problem with public restrooms. I don’t use a paper towel to open the door or bother with the disposable “seat protecting” liners. I DO flush with my foot, but I have also been known to OPEN DOORS with my feet in my own house if I’m carrying a huge laundry basket or child and have no free hands. If there is pee on a seat, I wipe it off with toilet paper and MOVE ON WITH MY BUSINESS. I think people who hover over toilet seats have major issues. I also think they are the people who PEE ON THE SEATS.]

Surprisingly, we got through the going part without a problem. Then we get to the sinks. No soap. No soap DISPENSER, even. No problem, we’ll just get some wipes from the diaper bag. That I don’t have with me. Plain water it is!

Did I mention the sinks were made for Amazons? I hoist Vio up, push down on the button, and a single needle of water shoots out. I say needle, because I’m pretty sure it pierced directly through my palm and came out the other side. So we move on to the second sink. I turn the handle on the faucet, and I discover the faucet is no longer mounted to the sink. So turning the handle TURNS THE ENTIRE FAUCET. At this point, I’m thinking we were better off before we started touching all these broken sinks with their bacteria-ridden needle-water, but I finally get Vio balanced on my knee, hold the faucet in place with one hand, and turn the handle with my other long enough for her to rinse off thoroughly.

We get back to the table, find that Sir Brazen McBallsy the squirrel is now hanging from the back of the nearby trash can and PEEKING UP AT US from over the side, doing teeny squirrel chin-ups in the process. So, he won, is what I’m saying. We ceded the table and moved on to the playground.

The rest of the evening transpired without incident, except for how we let Vio run around with no shoes on and she was caked in dirt up to her knees with sand in her hair and probably bits of the ground up tires from under the swings in her ears and yes, still no way to clean her. I sent her into the men’s room with Matt, hoping he might have better luck getting her washed up, but it was to no avail. A dirty car and baths for everyone as soon as we got home. But, finally.

Finally.

A story to tell.

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Girl Talk Thursday – Dreamy

It’s Girl Talk Thursday, and we’re talking dreams! The original topic asked about recurring dreams, weird dreams, or sex dreams, so I’ve thrown together a mish-mash of all three in my CLASSIC bullet point style.

  • I don’t have recurring dreams, but I do have a cast of characters who appear with great frequency. Most of them are old friends from high school, and I think each one of them must symbolize something for me subconsciously. An example is a friend of mine who was always super organized and WITH IT, and I looked up to her a lot. I dream about her when I seem to be aiming to better myself in some way. Cheesy, no?
  • Whoops. That last one is totally a lie. I DO have one recurring dream. It’s the classic end-of-term-and-I-just-realized-I-never-went-to-biology-and-the-final-is-TODAY scenario. Since it has been a good 8 years since I sat for a final exam, I’m beginning to think these are here to stay.
  • Most of my nightmares involve alligators or bad things happening to my teeth. Occasionally I’ll have a really horrible one about someone dying or nearly dying myself, but normally my nightmares are something I can tell Matt in the morning, and we’ll laugh about for hours (or years) afterward. If I ask nicely, maybe he’ll regale us with his terrifying dream of the rabbits who would sprout extra heads in the comments.
  • When I was pregnant, my number one nightmare was that Matt was hooking up with a ton of other women or was “unsure” if he wanted us to be together anymore. Uh. I might have actually been mad at him for a bit in the mornings that followed. Let’s just chalk that up to the pregnancy hormones.
  • Sex dreams are SUPER frustrating for me. I understand why, with two children, opportunities are scarce for getting down to business. In real life. However. That does NOT explain to me why my sex dreams must be ripe with interruptions and people who just will not leave us alone long enough to git ‘er done.
  • Most of these dreams are about my husband (as I’m sure he’s relieved to read.) Most others are about famous people or random people from my past or day-to-day life who are not even remotely sexually attractive to me. It’s never John Krasinski or Jon Stewart. It’s more like … the pediatrician or some American Idol contestant. Awesome.
  • When I have the not-my-husband variety of dream, it tends to stick in my mind for about 24 hours. Typically, it’s the sheer horror of it, as I try to figure out WHY BRAIN WHY did you make me experience that? It feels insanely real for quite some time.
  • I dream in black and white, but never color.
  • I do believe our dreams can tell us things we already know on a subconscious level. My mom tells the story of how, when she was pregnant with my brother, she dreamed he would be stillborn on the 27th of the month. When she started feeling cramping on the 26th, she insisted my father take her right in to the hospital. It turned out he was breach, with his chin caught on her pelvis. They did a C-section around 10PM on the 26th. Had she continued to labor, his neck would have been broken by the pushing, almost definitely on the 27th. I’m not claiming she was psychic or something, but I do think her body found a way to communicate to her that the baby was in distress.

Now, for the rest of you! Do you have any dream quirks? Do you actually get to have some sex in your sex dreams? (Do you get to have sex with John Krasinski in your dreams? If the answer is ‘yes’, I might have to pound on you a little bit.) Share in the comments, or hop on over to the original post, and Mr. Linky it up!

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Girl Talk Thursday – Quirks

It’s Thursday again already, and that means it’s time for another edition of Mommy Melee’s Girl Talk Thursday!

This week we’re discussing our “Weird Quirks”. When I first heard the topic, I was afraid it was going to be a tough one for me. I’ve never thought of myself as a quirky person. I walk the straight and narrow, never a toe out of line. I follow rules as though there are invisible authority figures* watching my every move. I … should have several bullet points dotting this paragraph.

Presented in no particular order, because even a frustrated wannabe librarian like me can’t devise a way to organize one’s personality quirks.

  • I can’t let other people do my laundry. Letting Matt wash my clothes is about as far as I’m willing to go.
  • When I’m browsing books in the library, I absentmindedly straighten the shelves.
  • In the grocery store checkout line, I group items in such a way as to facilitate the most efficient bagging.
  • I did my whole math degree with one mechanical pencil, just kept replacing the lead and erasers. I discovered I didn’t have it with me on my way to my last final exam and risked being late by turning around and going home to retrieve it.
  • If I ever feel a pain in my ear, I immediately look at a clock. I’m convinced it can’t be an ear infection if I know the exact time the pain started. (I realize this makes no sense.)
  • I’m afraid of flat paint. Seriously. Touching it creeps me out. Even looking at paint of a specific texture has the ability to make my skin crawl.
  • You will never hear the words “bored” or “boring” come out of my mouth. I drive people crazy with this, but the last time I mused that things could be a tad more exciting, a tornado came past my house.
  • As you can see, I’m a pretty superstitious person. Except, instead of going with the REGULAR ones NORMAL superstitious people have, I have made up a bunch of my own.
  • If you ask me a question from a book I have read, I will remember the exact part of the page where the information was located. I won’t always remember the answer, however.
  • Statues, dolls, and figurines with human bodies + animal heads TERRIFY me. Like, worse than clowns.
  • I have to sleep on the side of the bed that is furthest from the door.
  • I sit cross-legged whenever I can get away with it, even at the dinner table. I fail at wearing skirts.
  • I agonize over how to end my blog posts. (Does that work?)

(How about this?)

* To illustrate this point, I offer you this anecdote from my first day as a library page: I was opening each book to check the first page where the branch information was written, as outlined in the shelving manual. Someone had tucked a $20 bill in the pocket where the old due date card would have been stored. I briefly considered keeping it, until I had the thought, “What if this is a TEST? What if they put it there to see if I would turn it in? IT COULD BE A TESSSSST.”

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