Friday, September 30, 2011

September pointless lists

Wow.  The last day of September.  The awesome: Celebrating our 16th anniversary and the girls going back to school.  And my grandparents' 69th anniversary.  And did I mention the girls going back to school?

Oh, and I got glasses.  Today.  I guess that will make it easy to remember.

(Mine eyes.)

Abby also got glasses today:

(Cute!)

The not awesome: It's been sort of a long, weird month.  Things keep happening that are just odd.  Like... I'm not even sure.  That guy who came into work totally stoned and/or with brain damage from too many drugs (not hilarious, as it turns out).  The dead mice I kept finding and nearly stepping on (thanks, Skilly).  Being cold a lot.  Walking around for two hours with my sweater buttoned wrong.

Johanna can't wait for September to be over because she got stung by a bee on her foot (for the third time this season) and that totally pushed her over the edge.  She says September SUCKS.

Well, she sort of has a point.

And now!  For the part everyone's been waiting for!

Movies watched:

  • Zero.  That's what Netflix Streaming has done for us.  (The girls have watched all manner of Disney TV show, however.  I don't that counts.)

Books read:

  • Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen (Fab.)
  • Allison Wonderland by Helen Smith (A Kindle Daily Deal for 99-cents.  Let's just say I'm glad I didn't pay more than that.  It was a good book... just... not.)

Books I tried to read but failed:

  • Food, Inc. (Which I actually will finish eventually... but I'm finding it's not a book you can just sit down and read straight through.  Depressing.  And I'm the choir.)
  • Birdwing by Rafe Martin (Got it at a school book fair for like $2.50.  B.O.R.I.N.G.  I may try to pick it up again later.  Or just donate it to the church rummage sale next summer.)

Stuff I canned:

  • Blueberry jam
  • Peach butter

Stuff I froze:

  • Blueberries
  • More tomato sauce / roasted tomatoes

Quote of the month:
"Your hair smells great. No wonder Daddy is in love with you." --Johanna

Picture of the month:


(Dora. By Johanna.  Not too shabby.)

Thursday, September 29, 2011

...And now for something completely different

Trisha 
So... I'm getting glasses.
 ·  · September 23 at 11:37am

  • MaryGretchen and 2 others like this.
    • Stacey A cool new accessory!
      September 23 at 12:04pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Julie I just got mine in May. It's amazing what I can see now.
      September 23 at 12:35pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Alex You and Mara can match.
      September 23 at 4:22pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Joni So, are you 40 now??????? haha
      September 23 at 4:23pm · 
    • Abby NO YOU'LL LOOK SO WEIRD!!!!
      September 23 at 4:28pm · 
    • Jason Can you get a pair with a nose and mustache?
      September 23 at 6:12pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Abby Dude...THAT would be epic!
      September 23 at 6:47pm · 
    • Trisha So apparently I'm nearsighted in one eye and farsighted with astigmatism in the other. Yay me! I ended up with navy frames.
      September 23 at 6:53pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Trisha Thanks, Abs. I will look weird, but the upside of being 39 is that you no longer care. In fact, bring it!
      September 23 at 6:54pm ·  ·  2 people
    • Abby Your that old!?
      September 23 at 6:55pm · 
    • Trisha Your grandmother thinks I'm even older, so technically, I'm that YOUNG. :) (Oh, Joni.)
      September 23 at 6:56pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Abby You'll never be as cool as grandma. She rocks the glasses!! ♥
      September 23 at 6:57pm · 
    • Trisha That is true. I will never be as cool as grandma, but maybe someday I can be as cool as you? Oh, wait...
      September 23 at 6:57pm · 
    • Trisha HA HA HA!
      September 23 at 6:57pm · 
    • Abby I'm nothing on grandma, but I'll ALWAYS be cooler than you. OWNED.
      September 23 at 6:58pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Trisha Abigail Rose, I love you. And I am glad you love words.
      September 23 at 6:58pm · 
    • Abby ‎;D I love how we fight on here. And how I always make you look like a dork. And after you will say "I love you" because you have nothing better to do.
      September 23 at 7:00pm · 
    • Trisha Oh, good lord. I am TRYING to be kind, because I have 27 more years of sarcasm experience than you do. And sweetie, I always win. Ask your father. ;)
      September 23 at 7:01pm · 
    • Abby Yeah well, dads a wimp, so he don't count.
      September 23 at 7:02pm · 
    • Trisha Um... you know Dad can see this, right? You are SO BUSTED.
      September 23 at 7:03pm · 
    • Abby Or can he...mwahahahahaha!!
      September 23 at 7:04pm · 
    • Trisha Well, I certainly haven't blocked him. You, on the other hand, I am seriously considering.
      September 23 at 7:05pm · 
    • Abby ‎*UNFRIEND*
      September 23 at 7:05pm · 
    • Trisha Okay, that really did make me laugh out loud.
      September 23 at 7:05pm · 
    • Abby ‎....o_o....
      September 23 at 7:06pm · 
    • Joshua You guys are a total crack up. Thanks for the laughs today.
      September 24 at 10:22am · 
    • Trisha ‎...Do NOT encourage her, Josh...
      September 24 at 4:39pm ·  ·  1 person
    • Abby ‎;D Thanks for the encouragment, Josh my man!
      September 24 at 9:49pm ·  ·  1 person

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

This is not the place I meant to go

Once upon a time (let's say "September 16," just for kicks), my grandparents celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary.

Only they had their party on the 17th, just to mix things up.

(The only sunny thing ALL DAY.)

My grandparents didn't want a big party because it was only their 69th.  So my mother, aunts and uncle threw a small family party at some park in some out-of-the-the way place.  Apparently they used to stop there a lot when Mom et al were growing up, so it had "memories."  It was my Aunt Joan's idea.  (Hi, Joan!)  And it was a good one.  What could go wrong?

So of course the weather does not cooperate.  It was gorgeous the day before... and crappy the day of.  But really, what's a little wind and a few sprinkles?  So what if the flower arrangements kept getting tossed off the tables?  Who cares if it was so cold the masses mostly chose to sit huddled under quilts?  

Even though this was a "small" party, it really wasn't.  My grandparents have extended family in the area, and then there's the family they've managed to create themselves, plus the fact they know no stranger and a lot of their friends are as good as family.  The people just kept coming.  It was sort of nuts.  

(See the blue sky?  Me neither.)

To recap (because I've sort of forgotten what my point was): Bad weather, lots of people.  Lots of food.  And with the 18 dozen cupcakes or whatever (you think I'm exaggerating, but I don't think I am), I was a bit surprised to see Mom and The Aunts bring out a couple of cakes to boot.  

Here's the thing: My grandparents have friends who were married the day after they were, and are thus called "The Newlyweds."  Since The Newlyweds were at my grandparents' party on their actual anniversary, they got a cake, too.  What's the percentage two couples make it to 69, let alone on the same weekend?  Awesome.

But maybe we were all on cake overload.

One extra guest: My Aunt Joan's boys' friend's dog*, who has emotional problems and can't stand to be left alone.  Joan was babysitting this poor, messed up little guy, who watched her every move to make sure she didn't get too far away.  I guess Joan babysits him quite a bit.  I'm not sure a party was the best place for him--he was shaking a lot (I suppose he could have been cold, considering)--but look how adorable he is:

(This dog has separation anxiety.  I am not kidding.)

...And one more recap, because for some reason this post is giving me fits (I've been trying to pound this sucker out for two hours): We ate too much (I had two cupcakes and got a stomach ache, but I'm pretty sure my girls had even more than that), visited with cousins and aunts and uncles and other relatives we don't see that often, had some family pictures taken, and got to tell my grandparents how much we love them.  Oh, and somewhere in there my mother decided that we should all "introduce ourselves" and explain "how we were related."  Everyone pretended to be put out, but everyone went along with it anyway.  This is because my mother always gets her way.  (Hi, Mom!  And what?  You totally do.)

All in all, it was fun, even if it was freezing.  And next year?  The party will be indoors.

I know because Mom says so.

*How's that for a mouthful?  I suppose I could have just said "my cousins' friend's dog," only it's my aunt who was stuck with the thing.

The Smithereens, "Miles from Nowhere."  Because we WERE miles from nowhere.  And they told me before it was so, it was miles from nowhere.  (At least I was warned.)

Monday, September 26, 2011

I'm a game you played for fun

So this has been an interesting morning.

What's "interesting" is that I haven't banged my head against the wall.  Yet.  Give it time, probably.

My Abigail has about as much love of needles as I do.  This makes it unfortunate when she goes in for her annual exam and comes out with a list of shots and boosters she needs throughout the year.  It's hard enough to get her to the doctor's office ONCE A YEAR.  Add another visit or two on top of that, and we've pretty much just got anarchy on our hands.

This morning she had an orthodontist appointment, bright and early, just the way we like it.  (Get yourself back to school, child!)  The appointment was quick and painless, and she's ever so pleased with the new bands they put in her mouth--black and teal, which is terribly darling.

But she knew what was coming afterwards: Shots.  I should have kept my mouth shut, but sometimes I think that knowledge is power.  Get yourself mentally prepared and all of that.  Mostly, though, this just made Abby feel sick to her stomach.

So we drive to the doctor's office, and my very talkative child is very quiet.  We go inside.  The staff is in a meeting.  We wait ten minutes for the meeting to be over.  Then we wait another twenty minutes to get paperwork and whatnots sorted out.  And then we might have waited another ten to fifteen minutes just for kicks.

Say what you will about my poser iPad, but it came in handy during the wait.  I've got some sort of free whiteboard app on that thing, so Abby spent her time drawing sad faces with captions that read, "Please, Mommy!" and "Nooooooo!"

(This is an unhappy mushroom.)

At some point, because she is 12 and likes to push the envelope, she asked if she could write swear words.  Now, I know I should have said no and all, but honestly, I'm all for whatever is going to be distracting.  After a few minutes of writing hell and damn and shit, she got tired of it and handed the iPad back to me.  Perhaps if I'd have been a little more shocked, it would have been a little more fun.

Nonetheless, I'm sure my Mother of the Year award has been delayed.  Again.

So after the swearing lost its glimmer, Abby began making up escape scenarios.  They were quite impressive, actually: She was going to run downhill (because running uphill would be too hard) and find a phone and have Grandma come pick her up.  Then somehow she was going to lock me in Grandma's attic and dope me up on morphine so I'd be knocked out, and then she was going to do something very clever to my car to make it stop working, and work in a drop kick on Johanna (just for spite, the brat), and lock Daddy up in the attic too (so I wouldn't be lonely, I guess) and live in our house all by herself and use her savings to buy everything in the mini-mart and never have to get shots again.

"I could just walk out of here, Mom," she said, and I was like, dude, you could TOTALLY take me, and probably most of the doctors, too.  But she stayed put.  What can I say?  She's a firstborn.  We're all very obedient that way.

We finally get ushered into the back to the BABY ROOM.  We hadn't been in there for a while, so it was sort of fun to see the cute little scale and mobiles and whatnots.  Abby sat down and rolled up her shirt.  Which is when she saw the needle.  And she was all, I'm going to FAINT.  And the nurse (who was there for my fainting shame of last month) was like, lay down!  And Abby was like, no, I'll be okay.  I took her face in my hands and talked about bribes.  What do you want?  YOU CAN HAVE THAT.

This is a great nurse, though, and she was like, okay, Abby, count to ten and it will be all over.  Abby got to two and the nurse was putting on the bandage, and Abby was like, hey, I didn't get to ten!  And I was like, uh, you didn't even get to three.  And the nurse was like, yay me!

Abby is on a high as we leave the office.  She decides her arm hurts enough to stay home from school, so that pink hairspray she wanted?  She doesn't want now.  But I had to stop by a pharmacy anyway and pick up some Omeprazole (thanks for the hyper-acidic genes, Dad!) and then Abby saw this:

(Not George.)

And I'm all, whaaaaat?  That sucker is $20!  And Abby was like, I need a new pillow!  And I slept on Johanna's that one time and it was so comfortable!  And you won't have to buy me ANYTHING ELSE for my next three shots!

And I was like, make it five AND go to school, and you've got yourself a deal.  This thing is cuter in real life, by the way, lest you question my judgement (you should question it, certainly, just not on the cuteness factor is all I'm saying).  

I think it looks like a George, but Abby named it Carl.  Ah, well.

UPDATE: Carl is now Jorge.  Not that it's any of my business, but that is awesome.

This is quite enough activity for one day, thank you very much, but!  Now I get to go to Johanna's school and work at the book fair for an hour!  And then go to work!

Motherhood.  I tell you what, it ain't for sissies.

Saliva, "Never Gonna Change."  Because that's what shuffled up on iTunes when I started writing this ordeal.  I don't make the rules, people, I just follow them.  When they serve my purpose.  "You know you are quite the actress, but I'm just not that dumb."  Ouch there, Saliva!

Friday, September 23, 2011

Ghosts under rocks like notes found

So.  I'm getting glasses.

We can do this the short way or we can do this the long way, and I think we all know where this is headed, but it's nice of you to act surprised, anyway.

This was my very first eye appointment, ever.  I sort of thought I'd make it to 40, but I've been noticing that my eyes have been a little wonky.  And getting wonkier.  And I'm wise and mature!  So why not go?

So I waltz into the eye clinic this morning and do the little eye chart test.  The doctor pronounces me 20/20.  And I was like, really?  I thought that would pretty much seal the deal.  But then he pulls out this crazy eye machine thing (that totally looks like some sort of bad '70s sci-fi movie prop) and asks me look at a blurry Christmas tree (I had to take his word for it on that one.  I certainly didn't see a tree, but who am I to judge?), and pulls back saying, huh.  And I was like, huh WHAT, exactly?  And he was like, well, let's do this other little test right here.

Which was when it came out that I am nearsighted in my right eye, and farsighted in my left eye, with astigmatism to boot.  And he was all, that is odd.  And I was all, yay me!  I wouldn't want some sort of normal eye decline.  How dull would that be?

So then he asks if he can dilate my eyes, and I was all like... no thanks.  Then he wanted to put some sort of yellow drops in my eyes to "check the pressure."  Um, what?  Apparently eyeballs have a pressure just like your blood.  That is AWESOME.  We decide to forgo the drops due to my crazy artificial color allergy and the fact that I am a fainter (apparently it can happen.  Interesting), but then when he looked at them minus the color, he thought I had a budging disk or lens or something.  (Honestly, I wasn't paying very close attention.)  So I was like, oh, fine, put the drops in.  So he did.

Not a fan of those drops.  They made my eyeballs feel sort of numb and itchy and watery and big.  It was nuts, and not in a good way.

And then he was all like, sit still, please.  And something about me being just as wiggly as Abby.  (D'oh!)  He was shining this bright light into my eyes, which was most uncomfortable, plus I couldn't help but pull my face back when I could clearly see this thing coming straight towards my exposed eyeball, and I was supposed to be pressing my forehead up against some sort of plastic bar thing... and I was mostly really just failing at the whole enterprise.  So I had to actually tell myself, over and over and over, to sit still and look straight ahead and just woman up.

And that's what I did.  And my disk or lens or whatever?  Normal.

So that was good.

Oh, but then he got all excited and starts telling me about how my farsightedness is just going to get worse and worse, and how I'm going to need bifocals.  He's hilarious, this doctor.  I think he really enjoys worst-case scenarios.  It's entertaining as heck, though, so I didn't mind the doom and gloom forecast.

And then he's all like, well, what do you want to do, because you have options.  And I was like, get glasses?  I mean, in for a penny, in for a pound, right?  Why just wear glasses when I'm driving or on the computer or whatevs when I can rock the look ALL DAY LONG?

There are a lot of frames in this world.  And this is a small office.  I was glad that I didn't have more choices, if you want to know the truth.  I just don't have that kind of time.  I wanted something simple, with smaller lenses.  It took about 20 minutes to narrow it down to a copper-colored frame, which is 19 minutes longer than my decisions usually take.  And then the receptionist was all, have you seen THESE?

And lo and behold, those were the glasses I'd been looking for.  Simple, small square lenses, NAVY FRAMES.  I took an informal poll of strangers seated in the waiting room--there were three, except one had just had her eyes dilated, so I'm not sure she really counted--and they voted for the navy over the copper.  "Those just look more like you," said Stranger Number One.  Indeed.  I love justification.

My eyes have itched like crazy all day.  I feel like I've had a good long cry, but it's just those damn drops.  When I took a tissue to clean up the gunk around my eye after that part of the exam, the tissue came away FLORESCENT YELLOW.  How can that be good for anyone?

I just don't know.

Ra Ra Riot, "Ghosts Under Rocks."  Because why not?  I've been listening to this song a lot lately.  I just like it.  Lost and forgotten.  Turn it into broken good.  Lifting you up as an offer.  (Not all together, of course.  That wouldn't make any sense.)