Karma

Last week when I went to pick up Big A from her gymnastics practice at 7:00 p.m., I was informed that there was a parent's meeting, that night, at a local hotel conference room, at 7:15. In a panic I called her dad, did he know anything about it, was he coming? He had forgotten to tell me, and no, he couldn't make it. I looked at Little A, all pink and perfect in her pajamas and at Big A, who was near a panic attack at the thought of neither of her parents attending. We got in the car and headed to the hotel. While driving, I was praying that Little A would make it through--she goes to bed at 7, and she needs to be in bed at 7, or else she gets a little wacky.

We got there, and I stood in the back of the room w/Little A while Big A went and played with her friends at the play area. I let Little A down in the back of the room to crawl around. She was enjoying demonstrating her great crawling abilities and I followed behind her as she wore herself out. She was being near saintly--not making a peep, just crawling. As we turned around and headed back to the other side of the room, there were two moms sitting on a couch, the volunteers that checked us in. One of them looked at Little A and than at the other and said, "I guess someone's never heard of a babysitter".

I'm not sure if it was because Eviction Day was the next day, or if it was because I'd been up since 4:15 a.m. and was exhausted, or because I was just so stunned that someone could be so bitchy, but I instantly felt the sting of tears in my eyes and picked up Little A and headed out the door. To the other mom's credit, she turned beet red when she realized that I'd heard her. I kept myself semi-composed until we got to the car, then I lost it.

Yes, I've heard of babysitters, they spend more time with my children than I do, and I actually pay them to do this. I've also heard of deadbeat dads, exhaustion, being at the end of your rope, and I've also heard of practicing kindness and empathy, apparently all topics that she missed. I wasn't proud that someone so little made me feel so small, but she did.
I went through the conversation that I would have with her the next time that I saw her:

"Do you know that I went home that night and cried all night"?
"Do you know that on that night, a night I could have used an ounce of kindness more than you could ever know, I could barely drive home because I was crying so hard"?

I won't have any of these conversations with her, I know this about myself, because I genuinely believe that for a person to treat another with such disregard and judgment, they must be pretty miserable themselves. And I'd hate the thought of me causing someone to walk blindly to their car in the rain and put their head on their steering wheel and sob like a baby in front of their children. That's what helps me sleep at night, even if I fall asleep crying.

Note From the Dog

Dear Mom,

We need to talk. Now. Please put down the children and ignore the laundry, and while you're at it, go ahead and toss that graham cracker right over this way.

First, I'd like to compliment you on all that you do for me. I love the walks and treats, plates to lick, the creature that you hired to sit in a highchair and toss me snacks, and especially love that you still let me curl up next to you under the covers after all of these years, and the perfect little air hole that you create for me to stick my nose out. I love the doggy park, belly rubs and even some of the songs on the radio that you leave on for me all day.

Despite all of your wonderful qualities, we need to have a very serious discussion right now.

I've been losing sleep lately over this, (OK, 15 minutes might not be a lot to you, but in dog years, it's enough to throw your day out of whack) and so today while I carefully nudged off the newspaper that you left on the couch so that I wouldn't get on it (so cute; "A" for effort) and sunned myself, I finally decided to just let you know that I've become aware of your evil plans for me, and I'm telling you now, I want no part of it. I've been a faithful and loyal dog; why would you want to do this to me? Hear me loud and clear:

I AM NOT GOING TO DRESS UP AS A FISH FOR HALLOWEEN!!! BANISH THE THOUGHT FROM YOUR HEAD!!

So you can take that little fish pattern for dogs and march it right back to the torturing facility that it came from, and then take the money and go buy me some treats. I don't really care how cute you think the snack thrower and Big A will look as mermaids, I am not an accessory. I sat passively by when you tied that mane around my neck and hung the "courage" badge from it, but this is where I must draw the line. Portraying the king of the animal world is one thing, pretending to be a fish ( PINK fish to boot) is entirely different, and it must be stopped.

I've not asked for much from you over these past 12 years, if you don't count the above mentioned items, but I'm going to have to put my paws down on this one.

Love,
The Smoosh

Daydreams

The lotto is up to $95 million tonight. I hardly ever spend money on anything like that, but today I am, just so that I can spend some time revisiting a favorite childhood habit: daydreaming. If I hit the lotto, I'd take home about $50 million in cash. Here's a list of some of the things I'd do with it, right off the bat:

• Pay off the mortgages of all of my friends and family
• Put in my two weeks notice
• Buy my parents an around the world trip, where they would stay only at 5 star resorts
• Start looking for land to begin my animal sanctuary where my friends could be employed
• Purchase michigan college funds for all of my relatives
• Build a hospice house

What would YOU do w/the money?

Eviction Notice

He has until September 15th, then I’m journeying to the place inside of me where I still let him reside, and tossing him and all of his luggage (turns out a lot of it was empty) out onto the street. I’ve probably given him shelter far too long; I know this; it’s just that I have a hard time letting go of things that once meant so much to me.

Letting him stay is just too hard anymore—he’s zapping my resources and energy and when I think that I might have met someone worthy of my time, his ghost curls up beside me and whispers fairytales into my head,
“But I might come back, give me time, I think of you everyday”.

Why September 15th? I don’t think I have it in me to go that much longer; my mind is growing weary from the creaks that he makes crossing the floorboards, and my heart is heavy from holding the door open for so long.

I’ve let him stay for many reasons, but the only ones that are valid anymore are bright blue. They pierce me to the core of my being when I wonder how I will come up with the strength to look into them one day and tell her that her dad knows she exists, but that he doesn’t want her. The look that I’m sure will be in her eyes is the image that I’ll keep in my mind when I’m wondering if I really have it in me to let him go. I know that I’ll have a lifetime of cleaning to do after I toss him out, but I’m ready for that: it’s far better than leaving a room filled with broken promises scattered about and dashed hopes collecting dust on the shelves, wasting space in my heart.

I’m going to redecorate the room and paint it bright colors; I’m going to hang beautiful pictures of a happy family of us three girls on the walls; I’m going to let Ella draw whatever she wants on the floor, and give her a comfy chair that she can sit in if she’d like to visit there for a while; I’m going to have big windows that the breeze can roll through and a polished wood floor that the girls can slide around on as they chase rainbows from the prisms hanging from the ceiling, and a big chest where cherished memories can be stored away and visited time and again when the urge strikes. Then maybe someday when the sun is going down and I enter it, I won’t think of my former tenant and how sad and lonely the room used to be, but rather about what a beautiful place it turned out to be.

The Shape of Things to Come

Big A and I went shopping at Marshall's to find her some shirts for school. We had a blast, and found tons of great buys that she genuinely loved. I just didn't know how much...

On the way home, she told me again that she loved her shirts, especially the ones that fit "kind of tight, you know, not too tight, but that show off my shape." After I resumed breathing, I asked her what she meant. She informed me that she liked clothes that made her look skinny, and that she is skinny on her stomach, so sort of tight shirts were her favorite. Now hear me out: the child did not buy anything tight, tummy baring, or that I would deem inappropriate. I'm not one of the moms that thinks it's cute if her daughter wears adult fashions that you might see in a bar on Saturday night.

HELP ME OUT HERE!! How old were you when you noticed that a certain pair of pants made your booty look better, or a particular shirt made your waist look smaller? I don't remember much about my wardrobe when I was eight, but I'm pretty sure that I wasn't focusing on "my shape", but rather that my pants were zipped....