Daddy Is Tired

I heard the following conversation from the bathroom the other night before bedtime:

Matthew (now 3) asked, “Mommy, do you have a vulva?”

Yes I do, because I’m a girl.

“Can I see it?”  (at this point I had to fight back laughter and other “me too” type of comments)

Umm, no sweety.

“Ellie shows me her vulva when we’re in the bath.”

Uh…

“You and Ellie have vulvas.”

That’s right, but let’s not tell other people that.  You can just tell them we’re girls.

With the holidays approaching, the kids are learning about the meaning of Thanksgiving in school.  And by that, I mean they’re coloring handprint turkeys, making little pilgrim vests, and coming home with feathers glued to various body parts and/or clothing.

But yesterday was different.  Ellie’s new teacher – a wonderful Bolivian (?) woman with a beautiful accent – began teaching them the story of the pilgrims.  I know this because when I picked her up Ellie ran up to me and said that “half of the continents (colonists) died, daddy!”

It’s a good thing it was psychologist day.

On the way to the psychologist, Ellie told me the story (for the 4th time) how half of them died.  I pointed out that back then life was hard and that they didn’t have everything we have, like refrigerators and cars.  When she heard that, Ellie rewarded me with the end of the story:

“Yeah, they didn’t have cars so they had to ride around on sheeps called May Flower.  And the sheeps feet were almost to the bottom.  (?)  And after they died there were only 4 women but they couldn’t go to dinner because it was their job to cook it.  And that’s why we celebrate Thanksgiving.”

What a wonderful holiday story.

Edit – I should point out that Ellie was very excited about this story.  Rereading this it doesn’t come across that way, but she was.

This post was originally posted at the Shredheads blog on November 11, 2009 – feel free to comment over there.

We’ve been great friends for a long time now, and you’ve really helped me a lot.  In fact, in some ways you’ve carried me through the most difficult times of my weight loss journey.

Don’t get me wrong, you’re still wonderful, but it’s gotten to the point where you’re all I think about.  In fact, I long for you, often choosing you over who I should and that’s just not right.  So right now I think we need to spend less time together.

After last week’s accidental running out of Diet Mountain Dew, and the resulting caffeine withdrawal, I realized I needed to cut back. WAY back.  I don’t know how much I was drinking before, but it was at least 2 liters a day (probably more).  Don’t bother telling me how bad that is.

So this past week I’ve been making a 2 liter bottle last 3 days (filling in the gaps with water and decaf iced tea), and I’m noticed some big changes.  The strangest is that I’ve started dreaming again.  For a long time I haven’t had (or remembered, at least) ANY dreams.  Nothing.  And for the past few nights I’ve been having and remembering dreams.  I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I figure it’s a sign that I’m headed in the right direction.

Our house is a sty.  Of the pig variety.

I have only myself to blame – after all, it’s my job to keep it clean since I don’t have a Real Job.  But there’s something about cleaning that makes it hard for me to focus.  I’ll start out strong, maybe cleaning toilets.  Suddenly a bird chirps outside and I end up with Alzheimer’s disease.  I wander off aimlessly with no clue what’s going on, only to come to my senses in front of the television some time later with no memories of what has happened.  I’m just lucky that so far I always stay in the house!

This week was our biweekly maids visit.  Of course that required a Serious Cleaning Day…you know the one, where you clean the house so the cleaning people won’t discover the filth in which you live for the other 13 days?

Anyway, I was carrying some clothes upstairs to dump them on the floor hang them in my closet, and I took my shoes with me.  Because I’m all about efficiency, you know…why make two trips?  When I got to our room, I dropped my shoes in the middle of the room…despite being on my way to the closet!  It was okay, though, because they landed in a nice soft pile of dirty socks that I’d left there earlier in the day on my way down to the laundry room.

The great part was that as I stepped back over the shoes and socks to head back downstairs I thought, “Wow, that was really dumb to leave those there.”  And yet there they stayed.

None of this is my fault, though.  I have a Y chromosome, you see…

Last night got to a pretty predictable start.  We were trying to get out the door trick or treating, and one or more of  the kids threw a tantrum.  By the time we opened the door to leave, the hordes were beginning to descend upon our village, and despite our best efforts to convince them we weren’t home, the open door and light being turned on may have given us away.  At least we had good candy to give away…none of that crappy non-chocolate stuff!

Anyway, we finally got going and the promise of free candy magically made the tantrums go away!  The story is boring – the kids had a great time, they collected more chocolate than I ever did as a kid (when did everyone stop giving out crappy candy?), and we spent the last hour of the evening at a friend’s house watching the kids have a great time.

And now, with every keystroke, my keyboard is getting chocolatier and chocolatier.

Our Scary Skeleton (thanks to Matthew)

Our Super Heroes

Amazingly, this pose was Sharon's idea!

Yeah, so maybe this is a month old.  Sue me.

Fun at Sesame Place!

It’s now officially been a year that we’ve been without a dog.  Losing Mena was such a terrible thing, and to lose Gideon only two weeks later was devastating.

I can’t pretend that he was the perfect family dog…he had sore hips and didn’t like when the kids got near them.  He liked to wrestle – roughly.  But we’d gotten him before we had kids.  Before we knew some of the habits we should break from a dog.  So I ended up with the perfect dog not for a family with kids…but for me.

He and I really understood each other, and it’s contemplating how wonderful he was that makes me REALLY wonder about what people call the soul.  He had such a strong personality, and was so smart, that I wonder where that came from.  We understood each other perfectly.  When I was in a bad mood, he’d sense it from across the house and put his chin (or butt) on me.  When I was sad he’d come cuddle me.  And of course he’d always want to play in the yard.  I miss throwing his toys and watching him catch them mid-air.  I miss going on walks, watching how wiggly he got when I got the leash out.  I miss coming home from work to have lunch with him.  I miss just hearing his nails click on the floor.

You may not have been the ideal family dog, Gideon, but you were perfect for me.  You were my little guy, and you always will be.  I love you.

My Little Guy