i love to write. i live to write. and i get a little upset when people give me boundaries regarding what i can and cannot write about.

that being said, i am feeling very sad. i think i wrote something that hurt someone's feelings. i didn't mean to, you know. “i started a joke” and all that assorted Bee Gees crap. it is ringing in my ears at the moment (and very little is less pleasant than having old Bee Gees stuck in your head, mind you.) i just wrote a little something that involves someone i care about. lo and behold, it is going to get published now. i should be thrilled. i thought i used gentle humor, but evidently, i've hurt someone.

i am confronted with two conflicting parts of my nature: the desire to write, unfettered, versus the desire to protect those about whom i care deeply. i need to err on the side of the latter. but it can be hard sometimes.

trixie is having a two thumb day ::sigh::

e-mailing with an old college friend who i adore. she has two kids under 10. she and her husband went to see laurie anderson. i thought, how cool is that? i asked her, d'ya think our kids will ever appreciate how cool we are in comparison to other parents? her response i think is appropriate for all parents to read and understand. (and lisa, if you are out there, i hope you aren't mad that i am quoting you verbatim.)

“We've decided that we really don't want our kids to know how cool we are until they're all grown up — because they will have this biological compulsion to rebel against us, if we're too cool, they'll just have to go that much farther to rebel. We're afraid if we're too cool, they'll end up liking country music, finding Jesus and joining the military. And that, my friend, would send me over the edge.”

tonight, we went out to dinner. a man seated near our table asked his waiter for his drink, “on the rocks.” BC heard this.

“mommy, why does that man want rocks in his drink?”

little miss literal is at it again…

despite the fact that i wrote to the direct marketing association months ago to ask that we are taken off their lists, we still receive plenty of junk mail. BS has a new strategy for coping with this. at first, he merely voided out the request forms and mailed them back to the offender using their own postage-paid envelope. now, before he mails them this, he asks BC to draw some of her artistry all over the form before he mails it back.

the ymca has offered me a free, one-month membership. i always wanted to try the Y, despite the fact that i am neither Y nor M nor C. yesterday, i achieved nirvana with 40 minutes on an elliptical stepper followed by a ton of weight machines. today, i figured i would try out the step class.

now some might call me, er, challenged. i've got rhythm, to be sure, but i am not exactly someone nureyev would call upon and say, “honey, wanna try out these steps?” the class is taught by the perfect-bodied 21 year old who starts off class with the excuse that she might not be all there today because she just finished her finals.

poor baby.

after about 20 minutes of stepping on my toes, i decided that perhaps i would be better off downstairs on the poky elliptical stepper after all. i liked that much better.

i just don't appreciate people cheering me on while i sweat. its a little too richard simmonsy for me.

not to mention the shitty '90s dance music. didn't like it then; don't like it now.

it all started last night, actually. BC, about whom i waxed so poetically and lovingly yesterday, would not go to bed. meanwhile, BS was trying to take one of his online graduate classes, complete with headphones on. (still he could hear her scream.) in solidarity, i decided that i would stay up with him once she went to sleep. we finally got to bed around 10:30ish.

BC decided to awaken, screaming like a banshee, at 2:57 a.m. i know this because i went downstairs to check on her. “what's wrong?” i asked her, fearing g-d-knows-what.

“my covers,” she whimpered. “pull up my covers.”

i think that by the way she was shrieking, she must have been having a terrible nightmare. but in my comatose state, i was not exactly able to grasp that, so i was somewhat annoyed that i had to walk all the way downstairs for THAT. when i calmed her, i went back upstairs. neither BS nor i could sleep. he ultimately went downstairs to work on the computer, then he came upstairs, then, deciding he could not sleep, took his pillow downstairs to sleep. (a good thing, too, because everytime i nearly dozed, he would shift and wake me up.)

so the sleep-deprived awoke this morning to some pretty vicious storms. of course, BC never recalled awaking during the night and actually had the balls to say, “well, mommy, someone woke ME up this morning.” there are times i actually *do* count to ten.

so then, more mishaps. some annoyance in the portfolio department, some annoyance because of something i had said yesterday, some annoyance with everything. not to mention that our quarterly pest control service was for today (nice of them to tell me this — YESTERDAY!), and i am drinking tea that was near where the gent sprayed. (he swore that drinking it would be safe. i hope i am not poisoning myself as i type.) and then, to top it all off, i went to put my clothes in the dryer and i heard this ka-THINK ka-THINK noise. and then a burning smell. under further examination, it appears that something is in the dryer vent. i moved the dryer and took a look. hmm. do i unscrew things and check the vent out? like the good little wifey i am, i called up BS and gave him three options:

1) i can tinker with it. probably a very, very bad idea.
2) he can check it out.
3) i can call a repair guy.

he has opted for #2. but i know he is really, really pissed.

some days, i wish i could just crawl under a rock. ::sigh::

ssshhh…

::writing::

which children's storybook character are you?

this quiz was made by colleen

oh, how i am in love with my BC. there we were, driving to playgroup. i put on bob marley, the music of her birth (when i erroneously believed i would not need drugs during childbirth, i thought a mere boombox blasting bob marley would be the only medication i would need. boy, was i delusional.) and BC squeaks, “mommy, i LOVE this song!” ::melting::

don't get me wrong. there were possibly 3 or 4 occasions today when i seriously wanted to pull hair out. especially at bedtime, when she starts on her nightly mantra: “mama, i WANT you!” over and over and over and… there is nothing i would love better than snuggling up with my little bunny and snoozing (ok, well there ARE a few things i might prefer, but that is actually extremely high on my list of faves), but i cannot start her on bad habits or i shall never sleep again. it is tough to be a mom.

but… we went to the park this morning, and another mom was there with her two little girls, one only about 3 months younger than BC and one just a year old. i wish the world could see the gentle caretaker my little girl has become. she could care less about her little colleague, but she was so busy making sure that the baby didn't lose her little bottle and that the baby didn't stick her foot through the park bench and then some. she even stroked the little girl's cheek ever-so-gently. i was so incredibly proud of her.

then, at playgroup, the other mom was having a pretty stressful day. her daughters, who are really lovely little girls, were at each others' throats. and i am sure my BC wasn't helping too much. after my friend's daughter told her that she loved her, my BC piped up her other mantra: “i love you to the pink and purple and green and blue and rainbow moon and stars and beyond!” this, of course, is usually saved for me; but i was amazed at her ability to pick up that this other grownup really needed a hug, albeit a verbal one. in short, my child is an empath. just like her ma.

there are other moments from the day, but that is just a little sample of my little girl. i know i usually merely vent about the tough moments, but then i see these other moments that push though those clouds and i just cry my eyes out.

sorry guys. i am just not too cynical today. just grateful.

with thanks to frobisher.

which “monty python and the holy grail” character are you?

this quiz was made by colleen