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Friday, October 29, 2010

The Decision

(written 9/24/2010 and then forgotten about)

So... I... set this aside after four hours and 17 panties.

Since then...

My daughter continues telling me (non-verbally) she wants to use the grown-up toilet. I ignore her. I do not want to go there. (I mean, *I* "go" there. I'm referring to "go there" as revisiting the topic of potty training.) (You knew that. Right?) (Just making sure.)

Anyway, I ignore her pleas. When I put her down for a nap, she cries if I did not let her sit on the toilet beforehand. During play time, I find her contentedly sitting on the toilet. I ignore all this. No way. No how.

But today...

Today, my daughter comes into the office and lets me know she needs her diaper changed. (Did I forget to mention that is another sign I have been ignoring?) She leads me into her room where I find she has laid out a changing pad, a clean diaper, and a tub of wipes for me to change her. Then, she lies down on the changing pad.

Half way through changing her I realize I need diaper cream. Just then, my cell phone rings, and I answer it. I must have gotten the cream out of her closet, but by the time I hang up the phone, I have forgotten all about it. I pause, trying to remember what I am doing. My daughter notices my confusion, grabs the cream and hands it to me.

That is where I realize a decision has been made for me. The toddler is either virtually ready to change her own diaper, or it's time for hell and its stinky, wet fury.

I whimper.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Body Angry

Body, I promised you my sugar binges were just to get me through the pregnancy. I shrugged off the warnings of its addictive tendencies. I thought I could outwit it this time. I have been strong in its face before. I got cocky.

You spoke up. You objected, but I drowned out your voice. You slowly gave in and now fiercely pay for my misdeeds. I toyed with fire, and you've been burned. Your friend Spirit has suffered and gone.

Your muscles have been hurting, your lungs have lost strength, your mind has lost sleep, your skin has been stretched. Spirit was cramped from sharing space with these aches. Crankiness and creekiness left it gasping for Air.

No more runs for suppliers this month. I promise I will wrestle addiction with you and win the maiden Spirit. I will allow tremors and mood swings to shake off these shackles. I will allow the weight of abstinence snuff out longing. I will allow the battle to rack my habits. I will allow cleansing to begin. I will let you heal and regain strength. I will allow rest to ease your pains.

And Spirit will return through your doors and say, "I am home again."

Children Tell It Best

Life is so much more super exciting for kids!

(And probably a little more confusing.)

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Corrections to the Depression

I've been thinking about my post about an economic depression. Is anyone having fun yet?!

Wouldn't it be way FUNNER if the government stopped bailing businesses out? Then, people could stop with the false sense that all is as it has been and start making their adjustments to wearing paperboy hats and hanging laundry out on a line. No one would feel the pressure to pretend they have more money than they do. We could again start using cash from our mattresses to pay for purchases and when the money ran out, we'd stop buying stuff. Isn't that a clever idea?
We could also do co-op everything! Not just cleaning co-op or food co-op, but also babysitting co-op, errand co-op, dinner co-op, and pedicure co-op. And for the over-initiated, maybe even a co-op co-op!

Speaking of... One of the reasons I enjoy participating in the Bountiful Baskets grocery co-op is because each week they include some item that I do not regularly (or ever) purchase on my own, such as artichoke or eggplant or canary melon or acorn squash or table grapes. Every time I figure out what to do with the food, I feel more confident that I could feed my family no matter what commodity I was left with in harsh economic conditions. Of course, that's assuming I still have access to Google and recipe searches during said calamity.

Since my original post two years ago, neighbors have come and gone and come. Therefore, I will now add to my list of people I call dibs on (please, refer to my old list to know who I already have claim on) should our country be allowed to experience an economic depression:
I call dibs on Amanda Howells for her square foot gardening know-how, Megan Knorpp for her chicken-raising prowess, Heather English for her heathen hooligans to cause mayhem for those who think to trespass my storage shelter, Mariah Fralick for her creative food storage cuisine, and Tracie Goettig to sew us some fashionable frocks. I also call dibs on whomever moves into the house behind mine since it currently sits on a glorious field of dandelions to make enough gorgeous salads to sustain me and my staff through the Millennium.

Also since my original post, Jason Mraz has ruined the allure of the straw fedora for the aged population, so as a reminiscent old woman, I will resort simply to regaling my grandchildren with stories of the old days as I pick shriveled buds off my rose shrub out front whilst wearing a polyester dress tucked into the back of my pantyhose.

Government, get out of the business of bailing little Johnny from his oopsies! A real economic adjustment would be fun.