Sunday, November 20, 2011

Bored Games

Just a typical relaxing afternoon in the car.
I know, I know.  It's been FOREVER since I posted a blog.  The truth is, I've been stuck in a little rut.  I don't know what's wrong with me, other than the fact that I think I've just been a little blase -- oh, and ridiculously busy with three pint-sized maniacs too.  The other day I was trapped at home with a flu-ish one of them and I actually typed into Google, "Things to To Do When You're Bored."  (need I say more?)  But what came up was AWESOME, and I giggled out loud at some of the ideas -- i.e. "cheer up a potato," "interview your feet," "bloat," and my all time favorite -- "flash your goldfish."  I thought about trying that last one, but we have hermit crabs, not goldfish, and it would only kill, like, 15 seconds max.  But the thought of that liiiittttle extra adoration is always tempting.  God, I'm desperate.

But, here's the thing:  even though my life is oftentimes routine, I do try to make it anything but boring.  Usually I'm successful -- with some help.  First and foremost, there's my girlfriend, Amy, who is by far THE funniest person I have ever met in my life, and with whom the word "loafing" takes on a whole new meaning.  We have turned loafing into an art form, really.  And by loafing I mean sampling delectable new concoctions at Starbucks, talking smack (a.k.a. gossiping), inspecting each others' picked-at pimples, and arguing over what works better: eyelash extensions or Revitalash (my vote's with the latter).  Amy perpetually makes fun of me for being a workoutaholic and only wearing spandex and baseball hats, and I make fun of her for being pushy and lazy -- you know, we haze each other, it's fun. 

After Amy and I have loafed a goooood long while (and after she has hijacked my facebook account and pressed "like" on various items, such as "crocs," "mindful mommies," and "pot-pourri"), we then meet up with Carrie, who is actually productive, and, you know, works.  The delightful loaf-cycle then starts all over again -- the inspections, the talking smack, the eyelash debating, etc.  But, far and wide, the VERY best thing about girlfriends is the laughing.  We laugh so frequently and so hard that some of us have had Pumpkin Spiced Latte come out our nose, while others of us have had, um...accidents.

I have SO many good girlfriends in Houston (Jen, Ali, and the rest of you broads), and I could go on about my individual relationships with them forever, but I would be neglecting that extra special time sucker of mine -- my car.  Because I'm in it for four fucking hours a day, and I'm not kidding.  Fortunately, I have my i-pod, my i-phone, facebook on my i-phone, Words with Friends on my i-phone, and my ceaseless fantasies and imagination to keep me company.  It's a wonder I don't get honked at more -- I average two to three honks per day, usually for going a good 15 to 20 miles below the speed limit, seeing as how I'm very, very busy finding that juuuust right song on my i-pod.  My typical response to a honk is not a shouted "sorry!" or an apologetic wave of the hand, it's actually a very loud and long honk back, which solely serves to make me feel more powerful and less dejected.  Then I usually I get the finger, and then I usually laugh.  See how I easily I entertain myself?  I'm practically retarded.

*Sidenote -- In between the many short spurts it has taken me to complete this post, I actually did get into an accident, backing directly into a prissy 21-year-old's car parked behind me.  Bummer though -- no honking, no finger, and definitely no laughing (She really was a total asshole, no sense of humor whatsoever.  Tell me -- what is NOT funny about a huge dent in your brand new BMW?  I mean, c'mon!).  But I AM perpetually amazed by my total lack of awareness of the world beyond the boundaries of my personal auto-bubble.  I'm kind of like a female, younger, not-blind, modern day version of a behind-the-wheel Mr. Magoo.  We are so totally ONE.

OK, back to my ever-scintillating day.  Now is when the fun REALLY begins -- my afternoon delight.  No, no, no, nothing sexy or anything (other than the very special dried sweat aroma that I have lingering around me, seeing as how I haven't "had time" to take a shower -- you know, with all that important loafing and stuff), I'm talking about the unimaginable delight of having three cranky, dirty, smelly and hungry kids shoved into my car, as their teachers literally wipe their hands clean of them (and by this I mean they honestly have to wipe Teddy's fermented grime off their palms after they've gingerly lifted him into my car by his shirtstrings -- today he tumbled in with a full cup of sand in each shoe, a purplish rash around his mouth, and a delicious "present" wrapped in a tissue.).  Then it's driving to activities, screaming, spilling, whining, Cheetos, motion sickness, sobbing, hyperventilating, and ultimately, despair.  And I haven't even gotten to the kids yet.

Truth be told, it's the craziest shit I've ever done in my life.  And, you all pretty much know what parenthood entails -- a lot of selflessness, chaos, hurt, joy, and, yes, routine.  But the bottom line is, I wouldn't change any of it.  Not one tear, one fever, one mess, or one laugh.  I feel thankful to experience all this bedlam wrapped up in the mundane, because I know that our children won't stay young forever.  I like that they still need me, I like that they still look up to me.  And most of all, I like the emotional strength and the unconditional love that goes along with sainthood -- whoops, I mean motherhood.

And I like it SO much that I'll be taking just a teeny, tiny leave of absence for a while.  You cool with that, Steven?

Gotcha!  Happy Thanksgiving!