You may not have thought that I was telling the truth about Scrappy wanting to be a superhero. The girl lives in fantasy land 24/7. Sometimes she's Luther the newborn puppy, sometimes a pro-soccer player. The trick is figuring out how the story goes....
It is so Friday. And in honor of Little Miss Scrappy, who is just itching for her situation as little sister to be something that she can change with her superpowers, I'm feauturing her favorite song. We play it over and over. I'm betting this weekend she'll probably wear her cape from sunup to sundown.
My neuroses are getting worse. Or is that they are getting better? If something inherently negative is becoming more intense is that automatically an indication that they are worse? I would think that a neurosis were getting better that would mean that it were becoming more acute- ganing what it wants. I mean I'm sure that the neurosis itself doesn't want to become weaker, right?
I have that "invisible audience" thing going on right now. I feel like people are watching and caring about stuff that they don't care about. I was at the store yesterday and was sure that people were looking in my cart and judging me for what I was going to feed my family. I actually even picked up a box of Hamburger Helper because it has a "box top for education" symbol on it. And I'm all about Box Tops for Education. But then I sort of hid it behind the big container of organic strawberries. Like anybody would look in my cart? Jeez.... You'd think I were still 13.
But anyway, I feel like people are thinking things. And I put thought bubbles over their heads. I could be sitting in a circle of parents volunteering in Quirky's classroom and automatically think, "That lady thinks I'm a slob because I show up in my workout clothes every day. I bet she is sure that my kitchen counter is covered with crumbs and that I leave my clothes on the floor because if you look in my purse there are hundreds of receipts and half opened boxes of raisins and goldfish."
Anyone else have thought bubbles over people's heads?
I need reassurance here, people. The neuroses need to improve so they can gain strength like a hurricane and wipe out something.
We were at a birthday party last weekend. There was a pinata.
It was cute and all and mostly the kids stayed in a line backed up against the wall. But you know, lines creep up when there is candy involved.
And then my mind imagined the worst. What if a kid actually really did crack some other kid's head open with the pinata stick? And you were either the parent of the kid who did it or the parent of the birthday kid?
Finished procrastinating for now.... So now I'll procrastinate about doing other stuff by blogging.
Let's talk about intensity. Someone once told me that we are as humans "driven to experiences of extreme emotion." Agreed. I could buy stock in that. People ride roller coasters. People agree to fall in love. People sit in movie theaters to have their emotions yanked to both poles several times in 90 minutes, have children, go to haunted houses, hang out with exciting or funny people, watch Hallmark commercials, and climb Mt. Everest. Heck, some people even live along earthquake fault lines. (Not that doing that's any stupider than living in a hurricane prone area, mind you.)
I was out running yesterday in the heat and just loving it. I LOVE to sweat. Gross. You've seen the pic of me after running- surely it's haunting you as badly as the pic of my feet. (sorry.... go barf now) It's ugly. Heat while moving doesn't bug me at all.
But just standing in the driveway chatting with a neighbor in the summer in Houston is atrocious. Watching the kids play at the park is unbearable. I can't stand to sit still in the heat and humidity. AWFUL.
It's the same with walking. I can walk fast for hours- even stroll leisurely. Like the energizer bunny. Keep on going. But as for standing in line? Ugh. Or standing while some docent drones on and on during a tour? shudder. Keep it moving, people.
One would think that the solution would be to get off my feet. Well, sort of. I don't like sitting in chairs. If you peeked under the tablecloth at a fancy restaurant you'd see my feet curled up criss-cross-applesauce on the chair or booth. My feet have to be up off the floor. Horizontal is even better. Why don't they make more bars with loungers? I would be so much more amenable to sitting around chatting and having a cocktail if there were a place to stick my big old feet up. Bar stools suck.
So I wonder about these quirks. It would seem that I do perhaps live that intensity quote. No standing in the heat- only running. No standing- let's walk. No sitting- let's lounge. No matter what it is, let's do it with gusto.
Is it procrastination if everytime I sit down to write all of this awesomeness that I'm thinking (heh heh heh) I can't do it because I realize that there's something more pressing that I really should be doing. For real. Like making a lunch for a kid's school day or something....
I should go do that. Right now. Because I have to go wake them in 10 minutes.
So I'll just have to procrastinate and blow this off for now.
Like an episode of Seinfeld there has been a repeating little theme to my week. The other day I was at an appointment and there was a copy of that "O" magazine on the waiting room coffee table. The big question on the front cover promising some insightful article was "What do you really believe?"
Then I was perusing blogs last night during a bout of insomnia and I read the first line of another mommy blog: "I don't believe in strict discipline."
And of course the other day I was embroiled in my inner beliefs about the "elements" in public schools.
So I started thinking about it. What do I really believe in?
That my loved ones will always be safe and healthy? no.
That my faith will never change or I will never have periods of doubt or uncertainty in my faith? no.
That I should always eat an apple a day? no.
In aliens? no.
I'm not sure that I really and truly believe in anything.
oh yeah- I do!!
"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
I live in Texas.... I do realize that I live in Texas. And I love it here. If you're not sitting here on the back porch with me right now you may imagine that there are tumbleweeds blowing around on the road out front. You might also imagine that I have big Texas hair, live in a suburb with houses that look all the same, live to paint my nails, drive a gigantic vehicle, hang out at the mall or other nice chain restaurants, and attend a mega-church. Maybe that's me, maybe that's not.
There are lots of people like that here in Texas. I have a very intelligent and unbelievably trained and talented pediatric immunologist friend (he's also Burmese-American) who wouldn't consider a job offer from Baylor Medical Center because he felt like he'd be spit on. Clearly, he's never been to the Texas Medical Center here in Houston. There's no ethnic majority there. And the community in those 24 institutions are just grateful to have wonderful practitioners.
But there certainly is a perception out there that Texas is comprised of all white bible- thumping, closed minded, ignorant and sometimes loud-mouthed people. Not so much around here. There are some, but generally speaking in Houston I can find the most beautiful saris I've ever seen, the best Vietnamese food around, friends who speak Arabic, Spanish, American and Scottish English, and hang with El Salvadorians and Ethiopians in restaurants from their own countries. There are huge mosques along with the mega-churches. Our mayor is an openly gay woman. I love this diversity- even thrive on it.
But I do live among those who don't. And I probably need to remember when to shut up.
So we decided to send Quirky to a Baptist school this year. I loved the inclusive and welcoming community, the class size (12 versus 26/27 in our neighborhood public school), and felt that he would find the best balance of nurture and challenge there. So far it has proven to be all that and more. Quirky is not going to be able to weasel himself through the cracks.
But I had a conversation the other day that stopped me in my tracks. After school we were hanging out at the indoor playground (another perk of the school- you don't have to roast and sweat like a pig in September in Houston) with other moms and kids. This one mom introduced herself to me and we began chatting. She asked me why we had chosen that school over others. I responded that it was the class size and balance of support/challenge. I also mentioned the public school option that we didn't feel was a good fit.
Her next comment? "Well, I didn't even go look at that public school. You know there are just elements in the public school that I just don't want my kids exposed to. I mean, I don't want my daughter to come home saying that her friend has two moms or anything like that."
My. Jaw. Dropped. I am afraid I might have even flushed. She didn't even know me. And my response probably was unnecessary considering I was sitting in a Baptist Church facility.
"Oh- are there no single sex parent families at this school? I thought it was illegal to discriminate against children based on race, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. You know, I have a friend whose child was really being courted by a Christian high school in town and when they found out that he had two dads they told the dad on the phone that there was no place for their family at that school. He wishes he had it recorded. You know if this school is going to go up for this big accreditation this year I wonder if that is going to be an issue."
Now here's what I have revealed in that stupid comment: I have friends who are gay (not to mention parents), that I'm interested in the legal aspects of school discrimination, and that I'm probably not fit to be a mother in the eyes of many of the parents at that school. Can you say "SOCIAL PARIAH?"
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But what if Quirky were to go to school and talk about his friends who have same sex parents? It's out there, right? I mean, just by sending a child to a school where it's not an option, you can't deny that it's there. Is it smart of a parent who wants to protect their family's values to deny the existence of stuff that they don't like? Or is it wiser to help a child decide that it's not something that he or she wants to associate with?
Whatever. There are a lot of different opinions in Texas. Perhaps I just need to know when to keep my mouth shut.
I take my toes for granted. I literally don't even think about them- unless they're getting pedicured. But once I break one, I know immediately that they are there. And how much I use them.
So obviously I haven't had a pedicure in a while. I figure why waste the money while I'm running a lot? But maybe I won't be for a while now. Too bad I'm supposed to run a marathon in six weeks or so and haven't done any long runs yet. That was supposed to start this weekend. Does anyone see 17 miles going on those toes in 3 days?
I know, I know.... everyone wanted to see an up close of my disgusting feet today. I'm trying to distract myself from the mental video I have of myself falling down the stairs yesterday in the rain.