Day 15: Bedtime shenanigans

Never am I disappointed with our bedtime routine. Sure some nights are better than others, like when your mom's visiting from out of town and you're all, I've got this great idea where GRANDMA gets to read you a STORY! while my feet are up, beer's in one hand as the other's fondling the remote to find out if Jersey Shore, Intervention, or Real Houswives (of ANYWHERE but Atlanta) is on. Instead only, The Little Couple with 19 Kids and Counting Kate Plus 8 is Enough...what? is on. Jesus TLC, what show won't you do?

Tonight's funny was delivered by Egan. Once snuggled into bed, I asked him if he remembered to pee. I could see him running through the whole night in his head, considering how full his bladder really is and could he make it til morning. After pensively looking up at the ceiling, he said, "Nope. But I will right now."

Just as he was scampering out, he stops dead center in the middle of the room and turns toward his bed, all admiring like.

Egan: Don't you just love my bed?
Me: Of course I do, don't you?
Egan: Mmm-hmmmm...

[He disapprovingly shifts his glance to Gil's bed where I'm lying, waiting for Gil to return from wherever so we can READ ALREADY - the bedtime routine? IT DRAGS ON AND ON AND ON AND ON...]

All bershon, Egan points at Gil's eternally disheveled bed: Why is Gil's bed always so crumbly?

Day 14: This is way too good not to share again

You may have seen this post at Dooce, but I'm going to repost it anyway because this shit? EQUALS FUNNY. I'm still grossed out by Mariah Carey.

Jezebel's Comprehensive Glossary of Gifs.

Enjoy!

Day 13

My first choice for this year's holiday greeting card.

Day 12: On Bidness

I'm over here working toward getting a website rolling, purchase a domain name, and get business cards printed. I tried once already and it was such an incredibly lame attempt. To get business cards. This stuff takes a lot of creative energy to develop and I struggle with setting myself in motion.

Goals are blinding me with their persistence. I want to be a photographer but not like a professional one. More like a good one. That people pay to document their weddings, senior, and family portraits.

I am studying to be a birth doula. Not very fast, but I'm working on it. Remember my problem with reading? A stack of four books on childbirth and my training manual are keeping me company as we speak, placed just where they belong: on the shelf under my end table. With the latest Rolling Stone and Real Simple sitting like cherries on top. Their insides yet to be explored.

I'll get to them, all of them. I swear. I just don't know when.

Stretching myself too thin is a scary concept for me. I watch people around me put their hands in so many different pots. While I admire these characteristics, I can also admire my own ability to attend to what I need to on a daily basis: Raise three kids and go to work. That first part? The raising three kids part? Is fucking huge.

On top of the being a professional part and raising three kids stuff, I'm wanting to pursue my photography business and hoping expectant couples will invite me to help them have the best childbirth experience they can.

These two goals are solid, I know this. How can I feel like I'm walking on the moon instead of trudging through the muck of self-doubt?

Day 11: On Pet Peeves

People often ask you, "What's your pet peeve?" as if you're only supposed to have one. In my adult years I've worked really hard at teaching myself how to accept people and their behaviors, regardless of how they affect me, without reacting to them.

Until the other day.

Mostly I'm A Listener, which is the way I like it. Those of you who know me know I'll let you ramble on while I smile and nod. "Mmm-hmmm..." I mean, unless it's the kind of conversation where I interject my flippant opinions and facetious sarcasm. For this example, Internet, you can refer to me as A Listener. Got it?

I found myself following a conversation of a person describing going home for the holidays. The physical direction this person was going was West. Not East, North, or South. I knew this based on the city he/she was referring to.

Person: I'll be heading toward [this city] next week for the holidays...
Me: Mmm-hmmm...
Person: ...and I'm not sure how long I'll be Down There.
Me: Mmm-hmmm...Down There?

This person also had plans to go Up There to Iowa City.

Being in Eastern Iowa, said city is to our west, and it's Over There. Iowa City is South and undoubtedly Down There while we are Up There from there. Anything South of here can now be referred to as Down There. Anything North, like Minnesota or Canada, hell, even Decorah, is Up There. The Mississippi River? East.

Hello, my name is Emily and I am a Directional Bigot. I will react negatively to your Directional Disability. Kind of like They're, Their, and There. Or You're and Your. But different.

Day 10: Thank a Vet Day

Today is my Friday in the middle of the week. The kids don't have school tomorrow and I don't have work.

THANK YOU, VETERANS!

Day 8: Let's build our lexicon, shall we?

Demotic is my Dictionary.com word of the day.

At first glance I read demonic which brought out an instantaneous giggle. Demonic is one of those words that first make me think of my kids. I'd be lying if I said I didn't also think of myself. And Linda Blair in The Exorcist.

Demotic means, according to dictionary.com: Of or pertaining to the common people; popular. And that suits me too.

Day 7: "She was an avid reader" will not be in my eulogy

Rarely in my lifetime have I finished a book. While many of you can boast a library-full of read novels, I have a three shelved case full of half-read books.

I'm in one book club and have been invited to join another. My goal of completing the requirements for DONA International's birth doula certification involves reading 5 books on subjects from pregnancy, childbirth preparation, to breastfeeding. All topics I'm incredibly interested in. It's the reading part I struggle with.

Am I too short-attention-spanned? Lazy? I'd be lying if I told you I'd rather read than watch tv at night once the kids are in bed. Plus when I do try to read before bed? I last one page, maybe two, before I'm asleep with a book on my chest.

Authors and titles I've enjoyed are Augusten Burroughs "Running with Scissors," "Dry," as well as his collection of short stories "Magical Thinking." I thoroughly enjoyed "The Kite Runner" and Wally Lamb's "She's Come Undone" and "I Know This Much is True." In two days I read "The Lovely Bones." Each of these books finished. COVER TO COVER.

Riveting side note: It is not a coincidence that each of these stories involve oddball, insane, sad, tortured, obscure, inappropriate, foul-mouthed characters.

I can recall a silent reading period in elementary school, my desk shoved against a wall as some form of punishment for laughing, trying to simply get into "Ralph S. Mouse." Seriously. I think specifically about that single experience a lot. And now, although my big kids can read alone AND finish a book, I'm afraid I'm passing on this inability to Egan. He picks out a novel for us to read together and it's months before we finish it. At least we finish it?

Maybe the need for understanding is because I come from a family of avid readers. Then again, that's not the only thing setting me apart from my family. But it's like someone saying, "I just don't like mushrooms." How do they know they don't like mushrooms if they always avoid them? How can I know I'm "not a reader" if I don't try picking up a book from time to time?

EDITOR'S NOTE: The author would like to add Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" to the list of books she has actually finished reading. And has a feeling there will be other titles to include that are not accurately represented herein. Like David Sedaris, Julie. You're right.

Day 6

Please don't be confused by my inherent ability to live in the present yet post from the past. It's something that runs in my family and we really don't like to talk about it. Someone, some distant cousin, once told me it had something to do with the CIA or a lamp or some mountain or a wardrobe, but I'm just here to tell you to go with it.

Jon really doesn't want me to talk about this, so I'm going to do my best to respect that. While still blogging about it.

First of all, each couple deciding to split needs to explore mediation. Why we didn't do that the first go-round is beyond me. The fact both of us wasted so much time and money on attorneys and the judicial system really aggravates me.

Second of all, and this is the good part, not all married couples deciding to divorce hate each other. It's amazing how many people doubted Jon's and my ability to maintain a relationship of friendship and support while putting our kids' needs miles ahead of our own. It was traveling to the over-explored, dysfunctional, expensive, developing country (I know, right?) of Traditional Divorce that really made me open my eyes to the possibilities of what Jon and I could actually accomplish if we put our minds to it and told my stupid attorney to fuck off. That and the native language these people speak makes no sense at all: legalese

Not to mention the invaluable lesson of payinging attention to my own needs alongside my kids'. Because in my book? A mom who isn't in tune with who she is, - or at least beginning to listen to herself - is going to travel through Traditional Divorce's neighboring province of Losing Your Identity. I hear they have a good underground system of public transportation, but that's the problem: Nothing ever surfaces there. You pretend to be something you're not without exploring what really exists. What really makes you feel secure and confident. Because this system keeps you going in circles without getting anywhere. Scary place, you guys. I've been there. My visa apparently expired and I was stuck there for TEN YEARS.

I am here to encourage you to explore mediation before ever talking to an attorney. Sure, attorneys may be required at some point. But not right away. The beautiful part about it is you can decide that for yourself. You dictate the speed at which this process travels. No one else. If you're amicable with your ex-whatever, go for it. Try to iron out what you guys need to address with someone qualified to facilitate conflict resolution. You won't be disappointed.

Editor's Note: How validating is THIS!

Day 4: On giving in

I've been contemplating purchasing a Wii for the kids for Christmas this year. I guess it's actually a gift to the entire family because, have you guys played one? Those game-games they have on those things? We all take turns bowling or playing outfield while the other bats. And those adorable bobbing little Mii's. What drives me nuts is the tennis part. Why is it always doubles?

The tough question is What about other game systems? I buy Macs, iPods, iPhones, organic, free range...I'm definitely not a PC person or a Blackberry addict. Nor do I shop at Wal Mart. Wouldn't purchasing a PS-whatever-the-number be like buying an American car? Living in a subdivision? Voting Republican? Eating Wonder bread?

To me the logical choice along the vein of consumerism that pumps through my body is the Wii.

Should I do it?

Day 3:

Damn. I had a great idea for post while I was running today, complete with title, opener, and a punchline. And just like that it's gone. Hate it when that happens.

Day 2: Of course I voted, you guys

I thought somewhere amidst my hundreds of posts over the last 4 years there was one about how I long to receive a metal clippy I VOTED pin after, well, I vote. When did they stop this practice and who was the Scrooge that had the idea to blow out the flame of accomplishment to show the entire community that YES! I VOTED!?

I'd really like to give him -or her- the what for.

Day 1: I have no legs

There's something to be said about revisiting things you adored, were fascinated by, or that captivated you as a teen or young adult, as an adult. A grown adult. With kids. And a career. And graduate degrees and stuff. Where staying up past 10:00 pm is considered asinine.

I recently revisited the movie Kids for the first time since I was a mere 20 years-old living in Virginia Beach. My life back then involved waiting tables to stay alive and rolling pennies to make rent. Meanwhile, purchasing a bag of grass took about as much forethought as blinking.

Several friends and I snuggled (whether we wanted to or not) on my sectional to take in my inaugural movie club pick. I'm certainly not someone who selects a film involving The Rock or Jackie Chan - I have no idea why I chose those two names to describe what I don't like in a movie. I'm sure both possess qualities in their acting career that really appeal to many movie buffs. Or not.

Side note: Inception was shit no matter which way you slice it.

Whether our own free will or not, the opening scene of Kids? Set the uncomfortable, seat-shifting, gag-reflexing, eye-rolling tone for the 91 minutes each one of us unpleasantly endured. Some of us peered through the fingers we veiled our eyes with while others turned their heads in utter disgust. No matter how we reacted, each one of us simultaneously rattled off how many reasons why THAT IS JUST SO WRONG!

And I still love it.

NaBloPoMo 2010

NaBloPoMo 2010 is fast approaching and I'm over here with my feet up, High Life in hand, facebook constantly popping up chat sessions, preparing for November's daily postings.

Are you?

New Plan: Day 1

Super bummed I missed signing up for NaBloPoMo! National Blog Posting Month is an awesome way to continue to blog, regardless of content and creative inspiration. A picture, a quote, "blah blah blah," has been known to suffice.

I'm going to make up my own monthly, daily blogging plan this year. It always starts on the 10th of every month, you guys! No sweat then. We're just in time.

Thank you for coming. For my first trick, I will try to stop thinking in Status Updates and actually complete a sentence. Facebook and my recent barrage of texting has really dummed down my ability to craft the written word.

[applause]