Open Letter To The Buttinskies

Those of you with toddlers will know exactly what I am talking about.

Dear Buttinski:

I’ve had it up to my spit up stained shirt and food matted hair. Would it be entirely impossible for you to refrain from making seemingly harmless and awkwardly cute comments to me when my toddler is acting up in public? What you consider to be helpful I consider to be seven more meaningless words that my brain now has to process and come back with a polite and equally awkwardly cute response that belies the daggers I am throwing you with my eyes.

I mean really, you are, how should I say this..up there in age. You think it’s “cute” when you see a little kid foaming at the mouth, throwing things out of the cart and shreaking at the top of her lungs. You think she’s “tired” when you finally put the face to the whining and moaning you heard three aisles over. You think “I could use a break” when you see the dejected, haggard look on my face and tears forming in my eyes.

You think it is going to actually help by actually speaking to the child. I will inform you right now, it does not. What you are actually doing is one of several things. You’re either fanning the flames that make them want to hurl things faster and harder, or you’re interrupting the discipline that Mommy is trying to give junior in public, or you’re just being a big boob inserting yourself into a situation that only needed two participants to begin with.

Mothers who are living this know all of this and yet don’t feel the need to try to reassure either the mother or the demon spawn child. They understand that Mommy wants to remain as invisible as possible and just get the flippin groceries and get out before an eye is put out. They understand that said child is inconsolable at this moment anyway and would rather throw things at you than have to try to comprehend what you are saying to them.

Please, take my advice and just buttoutski. Turn your head if you just feel the urge to speak and the words are forming on your lips before your brain even knows what’s happening. Say a prayer, look at your wife, even give me an understanding look, but for the love of all that is peaceful and nonhomicidal, do not say one word to me or my kid.

Thankyouverymuch,

Ode to the abode

This post is dedicated to Nicole who lives in a real house and is fixing it up all the time. I aspire to be a DIYer like her. Maybe not in a rental, but somewhere down the road. She challenged me to show pictures of my digs because I keep bugging her to show pics of hers:

Oh, hotel room
Oh, hotel room
You bring me joy and pain
Your square footage is small
There’s no privacy at all
Strike the joy, you only bring pain.

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I should say though that I do consider it a blessing for us to be living in the neighborhood we’re going to be living in, so I was and still am prepared to go through what we need to go through to be able to live there. Even living in a hotel room this size for six weeks. It looks messy in this picture, it isn’t that messy all the time. Hey look! You can even see one of our cats looking out the window, probably trying to plan his escape. Really though, you’re not seeing the whole room. I am standing in the expansive kitchen with the bathroom to the right of me. See:

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Well, you really can’t see all that well (Ashlyn took the picture, she’s 2). I lied, the kitchen is nowhere near expansive. Here’s another one she took:

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That’s our dresser/tv stand. Yes, that is food on the bed, why do you ask? We’re in a hotel room, we take liberties.

Here’s where Reagan sleeps:

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After day two we stopped pulling out the fold-out bed, per her request. Here’s where Ashlyn sleeps:

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Those are sheets and towels strategically placed around her pack n play to prevent her from seeing us at night, which keeps her awake longer. She’s sacked out here though.

So, that’s our living quarters in a nutshell. It basically is a nutshell. In eight days we’ll be living in a mansion…ish house with no furniture or household goods. That still has to be scheduled to be delivered and I want it delivered after we paint. Painting, that’s my DIY project for the rental.

Mish mash

I’ve got a lot swirling in my head right now. I guess I’m like my cats in that respect–two brain neurons floating around aimlessly only to haphazardly meet every once in a while, producing random thoughts. mmmhmm.

We had a good weekend down in Hampton but a tough time getting there. What should have taken 2.5 hours took 6. I was ready to kill something…mainly the VDOT people who can’t seem to understand that widening the I95 S and I64 E corridors would be a good idea. Apparently they’ve had the money allotted for that project for some time, but judging from the amount of time it took to complete their road project down in Hampton when we lived there (it took over three years), I won’t see this happen in my time here in DC. So that means my friends down in Hampton Roads will probably not see me a lot. Unfortunate, because I’ve got some great friends down there. But it’s best that I not kill anyone.

Monday was a really hard day for me. It’s like everything was conspiring to bring me down. I do indeed believe in spiritual warfare and don’t doubt for a minute Satan and/or his minions were working me over. In fact, I probably would have sworn Ashlyn was possessed if you’d have asked me Monday. But I claim her spirit for Jesus. I’ll stop now because I can sense the weirdness some of you are feeling.

There are some phrases and words that hit the mainstream like bullets and are used by any and everyone until they are beaten into the ground and die a painfully slow death…exploitation to the point of diminished returns. And there are some words and phrases that become associated so closely to one person that it’s obviously a robbery when someone else uses them. I’m thinking of “yummo”. You all probably know who that word belongs to. I admit, I have stolen it before, but only once or twice. People get stuck using certain words and phrases and they become theirs. They become an extension of that person.

It took me over a decade to begin using the phrase “that rocks” because I was sick of hearing everyone else use it when it rocked to begin with. Also, a waitress I worked with used it in every sentence she uttered so I actually couldn’t use that phrase because I’d be stealing it from her. I don’t remember the situation it surrounded, but a while back several people on Fox had begun saying “tiptoeing past the graveyard”. It was such a memorable statement that when it was said once it really couldn’t be used again without seeming contrived and, well, stolen…but it was, and the commentators kept using it. And I rolled my eyes. So!, therefore, I will most likely not be heard using the words “fail” or “vet” (as in “to vet a candidate”) or other various and sundry phrases that so do not rock since they are eye-roll worthy right now. Those two words and plenty others are used ad nauseam in this area. Be original people! I’ll probably begin using them in some future election cycle though and I’ll be all retro and I’ll rock.

Ten days. That makes me happy. It also makes me anxious. I don’t want to wish away these next ten days, but it’s hard to be content in the moment when I really wish it were August 1st.

Yeah. That’s about it. Do you have a word or phrase that you’ve heard one time too many? Do you have a word or phrase that you use so much it could be considered yours?

They grow up so fast

We were shopping at the mall today visiting mostly kids’ stores because I don’t want to spend any of my money (that I don’t have to for necessary purchases) this month. I whetted my appetite, a little dangerously, by going into a clothing store where everything was 50% off. I don’t know how I resisted. Seriously cute stuff.

I digress. We had visited three stores for the girls and I promised them afterwards they could check out the Disney Store if Ashlyn didn’t have any meltdowns. Miracle of miracles she didn’t so we marched on in there. Knowing how easily it is for the girls to get stuck in that store for ever–it’s like me going into Sephora, or a kitchen store, or a stationery store, or a fabric store, or a…oh–I set the timer on my phone for five minutes. They still don’t understand how unfair that is, haha. Ashlyn didn’t even make it past the second table of wares. She zeroed in on Princess plates and Tinkerbell bowls and started stacking them. Reagan managed to go farther back into the store but was back up to us when my timer went off. I think she had come up to ask me to come back to look at something, but “oh look! The timer just dinged. We’ve gotta go girls!”

As we were leaving the store Ashlyn did start to melt down. She started bawling and pointing. At what? “We didn’t get to go in there Mommy! We didn’t go in there yet!” Where was she pointing? Where did that little diva want to go next? What store made her so upset that she was having to miss it? Starbucks. I kid you not.

“No honey, we can’t go into Starbucks today. Mommy doesn’t have any money, the line’s too long and we have to get to the library.”

“But Mommy, we didn’t go in there yet!”

By this time we’ve caught the attention of a woman leaving the store. She was amused, I think, and asked, “how old is she?” As I grabbed at Ashlyn’s clothes to try to prevent her from running in and attacking the display case I managed, “two and a half, she’s started young, I know.” The lady just laughed, still amused that a toddler was adamant about getting her daily fix of caffeine. I had to follow this up with the only thing I could… “they like the chai lattes…” as if them liking a non-coffee beverage is any better.

So, it seems that we’re going to have to set up not only college funds but overpriced beverage funds as well for both girls. I mean, have you seen the price of a chai latte lately? Even the smallest size, called a tall, is several bucks. And it ain’t tall. And it’s mostly ice. And if I order one for myself I better just go ahead and consider it gone because once the girls get a hold of it I don’t see it until the ice is clanging around with a bunch of chai foam which doesn’t suck up the straw very well… Du just informed me there’s a “short” size you can order that they don’t advertise much. That’s got to be the size of a shot glass.

And it’s not like we can escape the stores either. Starbucks are as prevalent here as churches and car dealerships are in the south. We’re doomed. I guess this means we’ll be asking for personalized Starbucks gift cards for the girls for Christmas.

NB – And no, I did not give in. Even if I had wanted to I only have enough left on my Starbucks card for one drink. And I am no longer sharing.

Teletyping

I’m trying to type without making any noise because everyone else is asleep (this is the only time I can think in complete thoughts). That’s pretty much impossible though since Toshiba put tiny clickers under each of these keys on the keyboard. Good thing I don’t have nails or else it would be double tap tap tapping. This bothers Du like nothing else. Well, it bothers him a lot when I eat M&Ms too. Something about hollow teeth or me purposely crunching loudly. If I had a bag I’d start munching now ’cause I couldn’t make much more noise than I already am and chocolate sounds divine at this moment.

It would be great if someone would invent a way for me to think what I want to type and have it show up on the screen, no?! No noise. No typos. Heck, no effort. Just think and type. Knowing my propensity to stick my foot in my mouth I would think a very ugly thought and think-hit the enter key before I could monitor what my brain was doing. It has a mind of its own, you know.

Oh come on, you know you have those ugly thoughts too. Not that I have them a lot, but I am getting better at controlling mine so I guess the teletyping would not be my friend. Can we all agree though that I will shout “I thought of that first!” when the technology does finally emerge? Unless the technology is already out there. Then I just need a subscription to Popular Science. And a teletyping speed monitor with a manual enter button override. I am going to patent that.

Lots of things to tell you about that will just have to wait. If you’re friends with me on Facebook you already have an advantage. What we’ve been doing. Where we’ve been going. Things we’ve been seeing. It includes church in a movie theater. And no, that’s not worshipping at the throne that is whatever the current “it” movie is. What is “it” btw?

Quick list:

  • Nationals baseball game (technically the previous week, but I haven’t talked about it)
  • Alexandria’s 260th birthday party
  • Utz potato chip factory tour
  • Utz potato chip gorging (chocolate covered ones are the best)
  • Play grounds
  • Magicians
  • Mad scientists
  • Libraries and their summer reading programs
  • Harmonicas
  • Horse petting and feeding (including Sgt York, the one that carried Pres. Reagan’s boots in the stirrups for the funeral procession. Great story here.)
  •  (Used) horse shoes
  • Jefferson Memorial
  • National Parks Passport
  • Malls
  • Malls
  • More malls
  • Parks
  • Parks
  • More parks
  • Swimming pool
  • Laundry at 5 bucks a week
  • Oh yeah, and church in a movie theater

What did you do this past week?