Irrational Fears

I think I may have a touch of OCD and it manifests itself in irrational fears that I worry about and fret over. I have lots of rational fears too, but they aren't very fun to talk about so this is just a list of the most ridiculous things I'm afraid of. Maybe if I shed some light on them, they will stop bothering me.

1. Dropping my iPod into the toilet. I don't even bring it in the bathroom, but I'm pretty sure someday, somehow, it will meet its fate in a toilet.

2. Going bald

3. Becoming a quadriplegic. This would be a rational fear if I ever did anything dangerous, but I don't so it's irrational. And it's also a fear because Mitch asked me one day if I'd ever wear a shirt that said "Jam Out with your Clam Out" on it. I said no, obviously, gross. And he said, "If you're ever a quadriplegic you'll wear that shirt every day."

4. Bears. I watched a documentary about Yellowstone the other day and it re-awakened my irrational fear of bears. They are so fast and bloodthirsty!

yikes!

5. Spiders crawling in my mouth when I sleep.

6. Flesh eating bacteria.

7. Nuclear winter.

8. Sharks.

9. This crab:

So, what are your irrational fears? Public speaking? Dying alone? Peeing your pants at work? (been there, done that; not that scary) Tell me in the comments!

More Old Pictures

I've been scanning old pictures that were taken on film (what the heck is that?) so I thought I'd share a few. I noticed today when I was scanning that there seemed to be a theme in the pictures I randomly chose, so I will call this post Sam and the Fight to Get Him to Eat.

When he was a baby, Sam didn't care if he ever ate or not. I could forget to give him a bottle and he wouldn't cry or anything. He'd just say, "Man, I've got a headache!" and I'd say, "Oh, that's too bad, when's the last time you ate?" and then I'd remember that I was responsible for feeding him and I'd feel terrible. (Oh relax, it was never more than a day!)(Just kidding.) When he started eating solid food I had to tie him tightly to his bouncy seat to keep him from slapping the spoon out of my hand. Then I'd sort of have to hold his head with one hand and shove the spoon in his mouth with the other. It was a constant fight and very messy.

Ironically, he'd put anything unreasonable in his mouth with only the slightest suggestion. We thought that was funny and it made for many funny pictures, like this one where my dad was seeing if he would eat a petunia. He would.

One of my favorite memories was when I had company over for dinner one night and we were eating spaghetti. Without saying anything to my guests I took a HUGE serving spoon and piled it high with spaghetti and pretended to feed it to Sam, who saw it coming and opened his mouth as wide as he could. I wish I had a picture of their faces. I just said, "What?" My sister thought it was funny.

When he was a preschooler, I had to make meals "fresh" and "adventurous" like this time when he wouldn't eat unless it was a picnic lunch outside. Winter picnic. Fun.

This picture has nothing to do with Sam and his history of being finicky, but I liked it so I thought I'd throw it on at the end. Kira, buck naked, potty training in front of the Christmas tree. Talk about "fresh" and "adventurous!"

I'm a much better mother when my kids aren't around

This is the first full week of school for Sam and Kira, and I have gotten so much done and been such a good mother when they've been gone! I've made good food, and all their laundry is done and folded and put away, and the house is nice and clean, and everything is organized and in it's place. Ahhh. So nice. I feel like I'm a step ahead of them instead of two steps behind them.

At the same time I cannot believe how fast they are growing up. Kira got in bed with me the other day and her head was right next to mine and her feet were touching my feet. What! When did she get that big? I still see her like this:

This was the day that she destroyed her crib at the crack of dawn. Mitch and I heard a horrible crash and the sound of wood being split into kindling so we rushed into her room to see this. She was very proud that she finally figured a way out. This is the child I still see when I go to wake her up in the morning, but in reality, she looks like this:

It's like someone took away my baby and gave me a big kid. When did that happen?

This is Sam when he was a baby. This was one of our favorite games. It's called "accident victim." In this particular case I said, "Pretend you are Babe Ruth and you got hit by a car and you're laying in the road."

He was such a good sport. Still is. But now he is almost unrecognizable.

How can he be so big? I don't really see him as a baby anymore, I see him as a five year old. Like this:

Whenever I think of him or talk about him, this is the version of Sam that is in my mind.

I still see the kids as preschoolers who could run under the counters without a thought to hitting their heads, and as people who need help taking baths.

They don't let me help them with their baths anymore. Sam's pretty sure his penis is something I'd be shocked if I saw so he's super private. (Sorry about blogging about your penis, Sam.)

It's kind of bittersweet to look back at these pictures because while I'm so glad they are growing up to be such funny, smart, sweet people, I miss my babies desperately.

Oh Failblog, I love you

The top five inventions I couldn't live without

I had lunch with a friend the other day (Hi Dana!) and we got to talking about cool inventions we couldn't live without and how we feel so dumb and lazy for not inventing anything. (yet) I thought about it (for about five minutes) and these are my top five favorite inventions (other than, you know, polio vaccines and really important stuff like that.)

1. Caller ID - I had this back when you had to buy a special box and have the phone company hook it up. It has saved me from hundreds of phone ambushes. Hundreds!

2. Technologically advanced thin prescription eyeglass lenses. If it wasn't for this I would look like an even bigger nerd than I already do. My glasses would be so thick that it would look like I was wearing goggles that were full of water. Like this kid:

3. Diet Coke. Sweet calorie-free nectar of the gods.

4. Deodorant maxi pads. Because they keep a person from smelling like the bastard child of a butcher at the end of a double shift, and a hunk of liverwurst left out in the sun. (Hey Always, you can use that for your commercials if you want.)

5. The Google and my laptop. Because they have made me seem (and feel) so much smarter than I actually am.

There's a lot more, of course, but I limited it to five because now, internet friends, I want to know what YOUR five favorite inventions are and why. Write them in the comments! I can't wait to read them!

Sorry, Sam.

You've been dealt a double whammy with the greasy-hair gene. It's going to get a lot worse before it gets better. Your father and I are very sorry.

School

The kids are gone now, for eight hours a day, five days a week. After a few weeks this will start to get old. They will be complaining about homework and getting up early, but for now it's wonderful. Here's their first-day-of-school pictures: (It's actually Sam's fourth day of school.)

See the crazed, maniacal look on Kira's face? She's actually doing a good job of containing herself in this picture. She was tired/excited this morning and managed to get in an entire day's worth of exhausting-her-mother in before 7:00 am. She's efficient!

This one is cute. I told Sam to casually touch the branch but they both grabbed on to the tree for dear life.

Goodbye kids! Have a great year! Learn a lot!

Why?

Meet my daughter, Monty Hall

Today I noticed a(nother) portion of Kira's behavior that, as her mother, has gotten away from me. She is a master negotiator. She's quick, unemotional and totally devious. Here's our conversation as we were running errands today:

Kira: I think we should go to Dairy Queen for a cone.

Me: Why would we do that?

Kira: It would be good, you know you want one.

Me: I don't think-

Kira: What do I have to give you to get you to go?

Me: (thinking) You have to wear pigtails on the first day of school. (I LOVE pigtails! She hates them.)

Kira: You know I hate pigtails. They look like antlers. Okay, the second day, not the first day, and for pigtails I get a blizzard.

Me: No, the first day, but I'll make them toward the back and low. And no blizzard, you can get a dipped cone instead of a plain one.

Kira: Okay, toward the back and really low, but if I agree to this, I get a medium blizzard, any kind I want.

Me: (thinking)

Kira: You know you love pigtails.

Me: No, how about for pigtails you get a small blizzard?

Kira: Fine. But I want Oreo Cookie Jar flavored.

Me: Fine.

The funny thing is that she had me feeling good about this negotiation. I felt like I won, but I didn't even want to go to Dairy Queen in the first place and not only did we go, but she got a blizzard out of it! And all I get is a couple lame "toward the back and low" pigtails. How did she do this to me?

Other things she's gotten me to agree to lately with her wheeling and dealing: Paying her $5 for not breaking a pot she made for one whole day (why would I even care about that?), Paying her $5 for not getting her shirt stained all day (In my defense, I can't lose that one), Getting me to agree to let her spend her $2 at Walmart on ANYTHING she wants (again, it's $2, what's she going to get? Fish, that's what. You can get a ridiculous amount of goldfish for $2.) etc. etc. etc. Sam's getting stronger than me, and Kira's getting smarter than me. Over the next 10 years motherhood is going to chew me up and spit me out and I'll be a worthless hull by the time I'm 50.

As we were finishing our blizzards, she said, "What would happen to me if I don't wear the pigtails now?"

Did I mention that I'm happy she starts school tomorrow?

Kira FINALLY starts school tomorrow.. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Kira's school has been under construction all summer long because they totally gutted it and added on a section etc etc. Most kids in Duluth started school today. Sam started school on Tuesday. (He goes to Hermantown. Kira will too when she gets to middle school.) Kira's school delayed starting for an extra day because of the construction and it's been a LONG three days. She is reveling in the fact that Sam is at school and she isn't. She wants every day to be "special." On Tuesday we went to Canal Park and she swam.

"I wonder what Sam is doing right now? I bet he wishes he was here!"

Yesterday she went to a horse farm with Mitch and she got to pet mini-horses. She doesn't know this yet, but today she gets to go with me to the grocery store and Wal-Mart and I'm going to see if I can get her to the doctor to get some shots. (I'm not even kidding.) I'm not just mean, I have a plan; if she is absolutely miserable today, she will enjoy starting school tomorrow. Right?

Oh who cares! I will have a FANTASTIC day tomorrow! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

The Worm has Turned

My tiny baby boy can finally beat me in a wrestling match. I knew this day would come, I just didn't expect it to come so soon. Here's what happened:

He got home from school today and told me a little about his day and we kidded around with each other and he got a little playfully sassy so I said, "Oh Yeah?!" and got him on the floor and said, "Lets write a letter to Auntie Amy and tell her all about school!" which from the time he was about 3 was code for "let me pin you down to the ground and relentlessly tickle you and give you the typewriter and pretend I'm writing a letter to my sister."

He was pretty easy to get down. He's not used to his new dimensions (ridiculously long and skinny arms and legs). But as I was typing the letter to my sister, I noticed a new realization come over him. It was like he was thinking, "hey... wait a minute... she's not as strong as she used to be. And my arms are longer than hers, and I think I could turn the tables!" and he got ME down on my back and proceeded to give me a relentless typewriting. What! He's got a lot of strength and leverage in those long arms and skinny legs! Good thing he's generally so kind and gentle. I'm sure he'll be merciful with his mother.

Mitch thinks I will able to keep beating him because of my "pure meanness." Awww... I took it as a compliment at the time, but now that I write it down I'm thinking maybe it wasn't meant to be complimentary. Bastard. I'll get him.

I learned something very interesting over Labor Day Weekend...

I learned that there is quite an extensive network of swingers (I mean exchanging spouses for ... you know....) in my hometown. My sister and I were talking about people we've (mostly she's) heard are swingers and there are more than you could imagine! (Ew)

Then I got to thinking, I've been married for eleven years and not one of the many many couples I apparently know who are swingers has even hinted at swinging with Mitch and me. Not that I'd say yes, I would say, "I'm so flattered that you asked! But we're (am I being presumptuous by saying *we*, Mitch?) not into that, but thanks anyway! I appreciate the offer!"

Eleven years. Is it me? Is it Mitch? Do we smell? Have people noticed that I hardly ever shave my legs? Is it because Mitch and I are slowly turning into children's characters?

Cute Baby

This is my niece Sidney. I spent most of Labor Day weekend with her at my parents house. She is so cute and chubby and weird and funny. I miss her already. I took her for a walk on Friday and she spent the whole time either cracking up laughing at my dog, or spitting into the tray on the stroller. How cute!

(Never mind the psychotic looking laser-eyed dog in the background of this pic. She's mostly harmless.)

NOOO! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T DO IT!

Roller Babe

I drove up to International Falls today with the kids and I told Sam he could choose the music. The song Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen came on and I had a total flashback to the roller rink across the border in Fort Frances from when I was a kid. Anyone who was anyone had their birthday party there. It was awesome. There were disco lights, and Canadian boys and every once in a while they would turn the lights down low and have a "couples skate." The girls would line up along the wall and the boys would pick a girl to hold hands and skate with.

One time, I think it was my ninth or tenth birthday, I was lined up along the wall and a Canadian teenager asked me to skate with him. Oh My God that was a big deal! All the girls at my party were tittering (jealous) and my parents were cracking up because the kid looked like a 50's greaser. They asked me which boy it was, and I said, "That boy, the one with blocks in his sleeves." (pack of cigs) He looked like this:

But that's okay, because I looked like this:

Hey! Happy September!

It's September already! Can you believe it? It's my birth month! Happy Birth-Month to me! The older I get the less important the presents are. Not that I don't like presents, who doesn't, but I pretty much get whatever I want these days and don't have any pressing wishes. That being said, there are only two things this year that I really want that I'm not willing to buy myself. (Because I wouldn't know where to get them). The first on my list is a blue burqa.

I know, I know, it's a sign of the oppression of women in the Middle East. The burqa is supposed to be really confining and hot, and an all around pain in the ass. Well, everything is a pain in the ass if you HAVE to do it. I'm supposedly not oppressed and can wear anything I want, and I want to wear a burqa. Mostly because what I really want is to wear my pajamas all day every day and never wash my hair, but our "not-oppressive-to-women" society frowns on that. The burqa would cover me from the tip of my head to my toes. I'd just have to worry about my footwear. I wouldn't even have to clean the scuz out of my eyes in the morning thanks to the handy three inch wide, vision impairing mesh covering the eyes. I might have to have two burqas. One with the mesh, and one without for when I need to see stuff. I suppose I could rig up some sort of velcro system.

With a burqa I could sleep in so much longer in the morning! I'd only have to get up one minute earlier than the time I'd have to leave for work. Literally ONE MINUTE! I'd only have to put on my burqa and my nice shoes, then I'd be set for the day. And as for it being so hot; I live in Minnesota. I think maybe the women in the Middle East and the women of the North Midwest should trade clothing styles. Yeah yeah, I know they are Muslims. Whatev. Be practical, people! Are there any arm holes? That's the only thing I wonder about. I could probably cut some if there aren't.

The other thing I want is an Alpenhorn.

Look how long it is! Amazing! I heard one on the radio the other day and they played all kinds of songs with it. In fact, they even played Name That Tune with the audience. It's very versatile. I could probably get work at lots of Oktoberfests. Of course, if I got both of my birthday wishes, I would have to cut an Alpenhorn mouth-hole in the burqa so I could enjoy both things at the same time.

Me and my dream bangs

I saw this website on Facebook and I had to try it out myself. What a handy tool. I love the internet!

This is what I would look like if I graduated in 1954. I love the bangs. (I love the word bangs. Bangs bangs bangs.) I can see why the teen pregnancy rate was low during this era.

In this one I look exactly like Peggy Hill. Again, awesome bangs. A bristle brush of bangs.

This is me in 1962. In this one the bangs are long and parted. And the rest is pulled back in a beautiful ribbon. I think I look really nice in this one.

Hello MOTHER! Mom, you pulled this look off better than I do.

This is the look I dreamed of having when I was little. This is 1966. The bangs are parted on the side and tucked away, but they are definitely still there!

Now we jump to 1978. (The early 70's was all straight hair parted down the middle and no bangs. Boooooorrrrinnggg.) I had to include this one though because I look HOT!

Next come the eighties. My actual era. This is the hair I wanted. (Yes, Lisa Long, I was insanely jealous of your bangs.) This was when a girl was judged not on the content of her character, but on how high she could get her bangs.

This is what I actually looked like in the eighties. My bangs were too fine and thin to make a really good, long-lasting claw. They would shed Aquanet like a duck sheds water.

And finally, the best picture of all. The one that almost made me pee my pants when I saw my friend Jill's version of it, the picture that I will use for all my internet profiles from now on:

The Afro. Oh how I wish I could get my hair to do this now.