Nov
2
We had kind of a hard weekend, thanks to Dylan being extra cranky as a result of this never-ending Viral Crud the boys just keep passing back and forth to each other over and over and over and at this point I have forgotten 1) what it’s like to get a good night’s sleep, and 2) what my children’s noses look like when there isn’t a torrent of slime erupting from both nostrils.
We also had houseguests, and it is one of my few personal blogging rules never to say anything about JB’s parents that I might someday regret but I cannot keep this to myself: at one point JB’s mom suggested with all seriousness that Dylan, who is not yet 2 years old, might benefit from counseling to deal with his anger issues.
I will refrain from making any further comment on that except to say: I think it was highly unfair to have been put in a position of defending the exact same behavior that was driving me out of my skull all weekend long. When your kid’s being an asshole, what you want is someone to say “God, 20-month-old children, especially when sick, are total assholes, aren’t they? Hang in there, this won’t last.” Not, you know, HAVE YOU CONSIDERED COUNSELING.
(Although I have to say I am entertained by the idea of toddler cognitive therapy. “Dylan, your mother refused to allow you to bang your plastic cow on the television screen. Can you tell me how that makes you feel? . . . I see. Can we re-conceptualize this anger trigger, perhaps by using relaxation imagery or engaging in some guided discovery —ah, I notice you’re expressing yourself by gnawing my sofa.”)
Anyway, we managed to have a decent Halloween night, at least for Riley. He was ridiculously excited about dressing up and knocking on doors, and he didn’t even mind when I pilfered all the good chocolate from his haul later that night.
As usual, we had about four trick-or-treaters stop by our house, despite what I thought was a very welcoming pumpkin ensemble.
Riley was a pirate, with a “Batman pirate cape”.
Dylan was a dragon or Godzilla or a dinosaur or something, although you’ll have to accept this weeks-old photo as proof since he was too pink-nosed and unhappy on Saturday to be photographed.
How was your Halloween? If you have kids, what did they dress as?
Oct
28
Reasons not to run this morning:
1. Dylan came down with a fever yesterday and didn’t sleep well, which means I didn’t sleep well, and by the way if you’re playing along at home this marks the fourth consecutive week of childhood illness in my house and I don’t mean to exaggerate or anything but I’m pretty sure WE ARE ALL GOING TO FUCKING DIE.
2. Which is to say, I would really rather be sitting around cramming cookies in my Nutter-Butter-hole right now, because I no longer drink and have no access to any good drugs and how else am I going to self-medicate?
3. I don’t even like running. My nose runs and my arms feel all stupid and dangly and I gasp and heave the whole time like I’m on the verge of cardiac arrest and my spit gets all gluey and disgusting.
4. My butt looks jiggly in these new running pants. I don’t mean bouncy. I mean jiggly. There may in fact be an audible flapping sound involved.
5. I hate runners. They’re all a bunch of self-righteous douchebags who are probably a total drag to be around, yapping all the time about intervals and tempo paces and shit while they gnaw incessantly on celery stalks and those stupid overpriced energy squares which hello, are just Gummi Bears in square form. Ooh, look at me eating a $3 square Gummi Bear, I’m an athlete. Plus, sometimes they run so much they shit their own pants. You know what I would rather do than shit my own pants? Fucking ANYTHING AT ALL, that’s what. Runners are gross.
6. There is a perfectly good ass-shaped dent in my couch, and I for one think sitting on it is probably the environmentally correct thing to do. My carbon footprint is nonexistent on this couch. I am living green, unlike you heartless planet-killers lacing up your running shoes which were probably manufactured out of emissions-producing non-sustainable polar bear fetus.
7. It’s cold outside.
8. And dark. Also, there is weather.
9. I haven’t even had any coffee yet. What kind of tragic, punishing, fucked-up existence is this, exercising before coffee? Am I in HELL?
10. I don’t want to, okay? Jesus, isn’t that good enough?
Reasons to do it anyway:
It makes me feel like I’m capable of doing anything I set my mind to.
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