So far this
year we have had health scares and car accidents and legal troubles and
relationship troubles and I am ready for spring to be here and for everyone to
just be happy and okay. And by “we” I
mean that my large extended family of relatives and friends alike. Because their problems affect me too. I worry and cry and stress right along with
them, over all their troubles, just as they do mine.
So, I am
ready for all the crap to be done and for the good stuff to kick in. I have Spring Fever for sure.
Speaking of
crap …
Because I
apparently have the mind of a ten year old boy, I find poop hilarious and
fascinating. My child is a Super
Pooper. Once he was fully potty trained
and pooping like a champ on the toilet, his big boy bowels apparently kicked
into high gear, and that child is amazing.
I cannot believe that so much can come from something so small. There are times when I want to take a picture
just for proof.
But then
common sense kicks in, and I realize I am weird enough as it is. If I go around showing people pictures of my
kid’s bowel movements with comments like, “Look at the sheer volume! How is
that possible?!” … well, I don’t need to draw any more attention to my
questionable sanity. It’s a strange
state of being amazed and oddly proud of his pooping prowess.
He can pee
like a champ too, and I am convinced that he could hit the toilet from a good
ten feet away. It’s impressive.
Maybe it’s
because I am a girl and don’t have all the dangly bits. Or maybe he’s like supernaturally gifted in
bowel/bladder elimination. Either way, I
am constantly impressed and horrified by his accomplishments. Especially since he “doesn’t like the sound”
of the toilet flushing and I have to practically beat him to get him to flush
when he’s done. I told him this morning
that he needed to get over it because he would be flushing the toilet for the
rest of his life. He looked at me,
totally deadpan, and said “nuh uh”. It
would not surprise me at all to discover he has already conceived a plan for
getting others to do the flushing for him.
He’s diabolical like that.
This
morning, we were laying on the bed, and he was telling me about his dream last
night. We are ALWAYS running late in the
mornings, and I know we need to get better at this because it is just not
acceptable for him to be late to kindergarten every morning. But I figure we have till August to get that
worked out. So, in the mornings, we run
late. Because, if he wants to lay there
for ten minutes telling me about his dream … Well, then I will lay there and
cuddle him and listen. That’s Super
Important Stuff. And yes, I will work on
earlier wake-up times that will allow this to continue while still getting us
out the door on time. But for now, I don’t
stress it.
It always
starts the same … “Mama, guess what I dreamed about last night?” And I will ask what, and he will tell
me. This time it was Star Wars. Always a cool dream, and worthy of hearing. He was a Jedi with Luke Skywalker and Darth
Vader was a good guy and they were fighting the stormtroopers. And Princess Leia did not have a lightsaber,
but she got a gun from one of the stormtroopers, so she was shooting them. Then she dressed up in a stormtrooper suit
and snuck into the stormtroopers lair (Yes, he used the word lair. God I love this kid.), and was blasting
them. And Han Solo was there
somewhere. I guess just hanging out,
looking cool. I really didn’t get the
specifics. It was a very detailed
telling, and I love that he has such a big imagination. My dreams are never anywhere near being that
cool.
Sweet dreams
… or not …
I remember a
lot of my dreams. And I do have some
dreams frequently. Same scenario, or
even exact same. Which is a little
freaky.
I also dream
about snakes a lot. Or being bitten by
snakes. I know there’s got to be some
sort of big Freudian analysis there, but whatever. I think it’s probably stress. When I am subconsciously worried about
something, I dream of snakes biting me.
Maybe one snake, maybe dozens.
Always different events, different places, different things happening
around me. But always with the
snakes. Considering that snakes creep me
the fuck out, it’s not pleasant.
For years,
my mental cue that I was troubled about something was my high school
boyfriend. He would pop up in a dream,
and I would know that my brain was definitely worried about something. I very rarely ever had interaction with him,
he would just sorta be there, in the background. I actually prefer the snakes.
I also dream
about my teeth falling out a lot. Not
just like, loose tooth falls out, but like they crumble in my mouth and I am
spitting out chunks of tooth. This is
definitely a stress dream, according to various dream interpretations. But I don’t seem to have them when I am
stressed … that’s the snakes. Dear Lord,
with the snakes. I would definitely
prefer the teeth to the snakes. Although
the teeth thing is also pretty disconcerting and always leaves me feeling sort
of unsettled when I wake up.
One of the
best, and most frustrating, things is flying.
Not like superhero flying. More
just like hovering about 6 feet off the ground and sort of floating around. Actually, it’s a lot like The Gentlemen from
Buffy. Only, I don’t have the scary face
and I am higher off the ground. But the
movement is similar. I would LOVE to be
able to hover in real life. Or teleport. I’d give a boob to be able to do that. Seriously.
And of
course, there’s the all too common “I didn’t finish 5th grade social
studies so I have to go back and do that” type dream. I actually like these, because they are so
funny. I actually stress in the dream
about how am I going to go back and take 10th grade geometry again
when I have to work. I find that
funny. And it’s ALWAYS a math
class. I really, really dislike math.
For the
longest time, any time I got in a car to drive, it would turn into a
bicycle. Now, it stays a car, but it’s
more of an open sided go kart kind of vehicle than an actual car. And I do generally have trouble navigating in
it. No idea what that’s about. I drive all the time, only had a couple of
accidents, none too traumatic or with serious injuries. One of those little brain quirks that amuses
me.
The one
dream that I don’t have much anymore, than goodness, is the one where my
grandmother is still alive. It’s always
that she left and we thought she was dead, but she comes back and she’s alive,
and I spend most of the time asking her why she left and what took so long to
come back and why she wants to leave again, and I always wake up crying and sad
and I just really, really hate those dreams.
I’ve heard some people say that when you dream of someone that has died,
it’s them visiting you in your dream.
And I am cool with that. By all
means, come see me. But stop making it
so damn traumatic, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
It’s just too damn hard to deal with.
And how in
the world did I just totally digress into all that nonsense? Not at all what I had planned. Seems to always happen that way. That’s the joy of just starting to type and
seeing what falls out of your brain.
I struggle
sometimes with what to write. Should I
be a “mommy” blog type, even though there are so many of those and I am not
that girl? Should I try for the
funny? The smart? The statement? I don’t know.
I don’t have a genre or a goal or a target audience. So, I just sit and start typing and go with
what happens. Sometimes it’s funny, or
serious, or sad. But it’s all me. And I can live with that. I’m not fancy. Pretty goofy.
A little odd. Kinda like this
place.
Parting is
such sweet sorrow …
Somehow, I
have become the Office Mom. I am cool
with that actually. I have the “Mom Box”,
which is the box full of aspirin and Tums and band-aids and all that good
stuff. I also have favorites. My favorite Newman (I didn't watch Seinfeld
regularly, but I know Newman. He’s
totally my Newman), that I just loved to hate, left at the end first of the
year. I miss his smart-ass remarks,
though I have seen him several times since he left. But today is a sad day because Mom’s favorite
kid is leaving to go on to bigger and better things. I will miss him. He’s the one that I cut up with and text smart ass comments back and forth with.
The favorite.
So, now I
have to find a replacement for him. Big
shoes to fill. Not looking forward to
it. He walked out the door ten minutes
ago, and the first interview to replace him is in two hours. I dread it already.
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