loose ends or: attention deficit disorder theater

Did you know that whenever you don’t have anything prolific or eloquent to say, you can just throw together a bunch of useless crap and let your readers sort it out? This is in the bylaws of blogging.

I might need to swipe Shelby’s clever awkward transition graphic.

We almost got the computer back yesterday. The guy fired it up just to demonstrate how non-broken it was…and immediately: Blue screen. Crash dump. Face-palm.

I treated my fat feet to a pedicure on my lunch break yesterday, and there was this lady in there getting a mani/pedi with her TODDLER in tow, and it was running all over the place and screaming. So totally not zen.

Right then, I made a pact with myself that I will never, ever allow myself any luxury at the expense of my kid…or everyone else in the salon. (My husband and I made a similar pact last week at a restaurant, as somebody’s kid proceeded to tear the Venetian blinds off the window while its parents sat absently drinking their beers.)

I finally got some GOOD pregnancy advice from a coworker: “If anyone tries to give you pregnancy advice, listen politely and then do whatever the f*ck you want.” I like you.

Last night, we went to this little farmer’s market [insert awkward photo of me smiling with a piece of fruit in my hand] and I got something called a bacon cheddar corn muffin…I KNOW.

I slapped some cream cheese and jalapeno jelly (also courtesy of the farm market) on that puppy and inhaled it.

I want to chop this up and snort it. I want to smear it on a sheet of tinfoil and smoke it. I want to mainline this muffin. Are you getting me?

I haven’t run in a race since APRIL.

The most REAL running that I do is the half-mile to my gym, where I joddle on the treadmill just long enough to break a delicate (lol) sweat before retreating to the pool to do laps (and I have found that, yes, it is also possible to waddle in a swimming pool). But, for once in my life, I watch all you 30 or 40 or 50 mile/weekers struggling in this offensive heat to achieve your mileage and pace goals…and I smirk.

No, you guys probably don’t have to eat every two hours, sleep with four pillows, wake up three times a night to pee, run out of breath just trying to shave your legs in the shower, or get a scorching case of heartburn simply from being in the same ROOM as a piece of chocolate, but somehow, today, it is so totally worth it.

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28 thoughts on “loose ends or: attention deficit disorder theater

  1. Bratty next door kids attacked me with giant water guns (like, 80s-style Super Soakers) as I left my house the other day, while dad stood by idly and smiled as I tried in vain to make them stop. So yea, I feel you.

    • Gahhhhh, and if you say anything, you get branded as “that lady who hates kids.” I say sink to their level and leave a flaming bag of poo on their doorstep.

  2. When things like that happen in public, I can’t help but glare. Well actually I probably could but I don’t want to. And I’m with Amy on that country club thing.

    • Oh, you could tell everyone was annoyed. And those Korean ladies don’t give a crap about pretending to be nice to you. It was kind of hysterical to watch — if it hadn’t been MY life.

  3. Um, wait, am I doin it rong? Because I thought this was the whole point of blogging: “just throw together a bunch of useless crap and let your readers sort it out” 😦

    omg, and about dragging your kid to manicure/pedicure/coffee date/whatever, what really baffles me is when people do this but fail to bring any sort of toy, book, crayons and paper or anything else that might keep the kid amused or at least ward off the onset of running-around-screaming for 10-15 minutes. Not saying that’s a failproof way to make sure your kids behave in public, but geez, isn’t it at least a first step?

    • Exaaaaaaactly. She kept trying to give her kid a bottle of lotion to play with. And then swatted it for trying to eat the lotion. Seriously, mother of the year, right here.

  4. Isn’t the point of going to dinner/getting a pedicure to relax? And if you have a monster child who terrorizes nail establishments or restaurants, don’t project your misery onto everyone else just so you feel better. Get a babysitter or maybe spend some time at home like trying to, oh I don’t know, train your child to behave?!?
    Can you tell I don’t have any children yet 🙂

    • Granted, I don’t “have” a child yet, but I feel the same way. If you have to go to the grocery store or the post office, that’s one thing. But restaurants and nail salons are luxuries, not necessities. And you could tell everyone in the place was totally annoyed. She couldn’t even pick up the kid and hold it because her nails were still drying. Selfish biaaaatch.

  5. Cannot stand parents that let their kids go buck wild. I just want to scream “Are you fucking deaf and blind?” I threaten my chirrun by telling them they are going home RIGHTNOW or throw my empty bottle of Crown at them in a drunken rage.

    Kidding of course. Or am I?

  6. A restaurant in the Bay Area recently instituted a ban on kids as well, and I keep thinking that, at 7 months pregnant, I need to go eat at that restaurant while I still can.

    I also love that you referred to the toddler as “it.” When I see stuff like that, and I sadly I see it a lot, I make a mental note not to do that when it’s my turn. I guess I should thank these parents for showing me what not to do.

  7. OK A) I am going to have to find a recipe for the broccoli cheddar thing and B) I ask you to make the following promises regarding parenthood to me, just for my peace of mind. (I apologize for the length of this comment in advance)
    Promise me you will never:
    -Let your child play on his/her DS, cell phone, iPod touch at the table at a restaurant/family function or just whenever the kid wants to so that the child does not have to interact with others
    -Buy a minivan with a DVDplayer, and if you do, don’t put it on to go 5 minutes down the street. The above two promises should keep your child from having ADHD.
    -Let your child have a cellphone or facebook too young (I personally think high school is appropriate, not second grade. true story)
    -Allow your child to be the boss and/or yell at you, or if it happens, don’t let him/her get away with it.
    -Post every minor accomplishment or thought on motherhood on facebook because, really, no one cares.
    -Accuse your child’s teacher of lying if your child gets in trouble at school – chances are, it was your kid’s fault.
    -Act as though you know more about teaching than your child’s teacher does. Having been a student does not make you an expert on education. I spend a lot of time in hospitals, doesn’t mean I know more than the doctors. In fact, apply this to doctor’s offices, too. No one wants a munchausen’s mom for a patient.
    -Forget your friends exist, or refuse to let them babysit because since they don’t have children obviously they are incapable of taking care of them. (despite the fact that one of them worked in a day care center for five years)
    -Allow your child to get away with talking to anyone – but especially adults – disrespectfully.

    OK…wow. Sorry if I offended. This has clearly been on my mind a lot.

    • haaahahaha. Sounds like we’re talking about a couple very specific individuals!
      But I hear you: my mom was a teacher for 30+ years before she retired (with a Masters in Elem.Ed) and I remember a couple of those sanctimonious parents who were convinced that their borderline retarded child was gifted and the TEACHER was to blame for their sub-par performance.

  8. Might be time for a new computer guy.

    I usually walk out of a place if I see that those “things” are there. I know I’m only going to be in for an earful of whining and things parents telling it to, “be quiet or the lady’s going to be mad at you.” I’m out.

  9. I had a baby 25 years ago and I still am not a kid fan. I like puppies and baby horses much more than baby humans and I suppose that will never change. Don’t listen to dumbasses and pregnancy/birthing advice. I mean obviously you’re not gonna smoke and get hammered like we could in the ’80’s so you’re doing it RIGHT.

  10. Oh jees, perhaps I should add my daughter is a college grad non-tard in case anyone is worried about how that all turned out…

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