Haiku Friday – Competition Edition

Fabulous Leslie

over at My Mommy’s Place

has haiku contest

it ends late tonight

be a haiku buckaroo

or at least just read

1.

Scrubbed the bathroom

floor sparkling, Ironflower

pees all over it.

2.

Love Mamma Mia

live show better, movie fun

made me so happy

3.

Insomnia now

carpal tunnel, big headaches

I glower, not glow

Haiku Friday – Lethargy Edition

I just don’t wanna

clean, deal with heat, organize

or even write posts

I’m slumping again. I have so much cleaning to do. I should have taken the kids to the park this morning before it go too hot. I should be writing an interesting, or at least funny, post. Instead of doing any of these things, we have watched Sesame Street and I have written crappy articles for this website that pays quickly (email me if you want to know which one).

I did fill up the wading pool, but the children won’t consider it warm enough until after lunch. But then I’ll at least have an excuse to not be cleaning my dirty, disorganized house. I was on a roll yesterday morning, but then I had to go to the doctor for my check-up. When I got there, they told me they were running 45 minutes late. I decided to stay – Hot Guy was able to be with the kiddos yesterday, but he’ll be gone most of August so I figured I’d take the time to read the preggo magazines in the waiting room.

I read EVERY preggo magazine in the waiting room.

I finished two short stories in my mystery magazine, too.

Nearly two hours after my original appointment – after I was dying of hunger and my Tylenol for my sinus headache had worn off – I got in to see the doctor. Now, I understand that emergencies come up, especially  in an OB’s office. But I just lost all of my momentum. By the time I got home it was all I could do not to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.

The good news is that baby and I are the picture of health. And the guilt-ridden receptionist made all of my appointments through week 38, so I have my preferred slots and doctors until the end. The scary news is that this baby has nowhere to sleep, very little to wear and no sling. Though he does have a filthy house to live in.

I’m going to go have my daily dose of caffeine to see if that helps.

Haiku Friday – Search Terms Edition

weird people come here

“myboobs”, “dessert boobs”, “dirty dad”,

“dirty cell phone pics”

“how to lose a gay”

“embracing dorkiness now”

who looks for this stuff?

Haiku Friday – What Now?

Camp is now over

Disposable income gone

six weeks of nothing?

Today was Ironflower’s last day of camp. We have no disposable income. We have no pool membership. What in the heck am I going to do with the kids for the next six weeks? I can’t handle more than an hour and a half at the park and they can’t handle library story time more than one day a week. Other than letting them watch several hours of Noggin and PBS Kids (LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the show SuperWhy) every day, what are we going to do?

Haiku Friday – Sometimes The Only Word Is, “Douchebag”

Invisible me

seventh grade over again

at the library

This can’t be seventh grade, though. My weight has doubled (in my defense, I was pretty tiny in seventh grade) and I have wrinkles. Not to mention children. But seventh grade is what I’ve relived twice now at Ironflower’s weekly story time. This session of story time is for 3 to 5 year olds. They go up to the story/craft room with the librarian and the parents (and younger siblings) wait in the children’s room downstairs. Ironflower loves it and Lovebug enjoys the one on one mommy time.

If it was the moms from the last story time session I went to, I would enjoy it too. Those moms were sweet. And actually, the other moms at this session seem perfectly nice when I talk to them briefly before HE gets there. HE is the star of the town’s stay-at-home parents brigade. HE, apparently, has deemed me uncool.

And just like the Queen Bee who considered me uncool in seventh grade (thus forcing me to make real friends with kids from other elementaries), HE will not speak to me. Or move out of my way. Or acknowledge that I exist at all while he regales the newest mom in town with stories of his publishing feats (eg, he sold a novel and as it was about to be published, the publisher went bankrupt and today’s special: he brought in an advance copy of the local – free- parent paper because he graces the cover and has an article inside). I know all the details of his life because in the last two story times, he has given them to newest mom.

When the town librarian introduced my kids to his kids last week, he didn’t even encourage his kids to say hello. He does not speak to me or to the grandpa that brings his grandson to story time or to the mom whose first language is Spanish, but he is all over the other two moms. He has a British accent that reminds me of Madonna’s.

Much like in seventh grade, it’s not like I WANT to be friends with – or an acquaintance of – this guy. But unlike in seventh grade, I don’t have a hundred alternatives to him and his clique. His son and Ironflower are the same age – and this is a small town. There will be soccer games and kindergarten and more story times. And also unlike seventh grade, I don’t know any nasty secrets that I could spill about this guy to get him to at least be polite in public. So, any suggestions?

Haiku Friday – My Hands Are Full Edition

Having another?

They say with so much surprise

And how far apart?

Your hands will be full

They are so close together

You will be busy!!!!!

I suppose people are just making small talk. I suppose they think their comments are original. I suppose they think I hadn’t noticed that I will be bearing three children within (barely) four years. I suppose they think they are being amusing. Though I notice it’s not people I consider my friends – or even good acquaintances – that  say these things. It’s other mothers though – the ones at the library, the park and the preschool.

Sometimes I see them wanting to ask if I’m a highly observant Catholic. Or whether I actually I did this on purpose. Or if I’m crazy.

And I wonder how they would react if I said, “Gee, it must be so easy with just one child. I’d be bored.” (BTW, I don’t actually think that’s true. Some things are easier with one, some things are easier with a few). Or if I commented about how far apart THEIR children are, “Don’t you want your children to be good friends?” Or maybe I should say something that hints at their husbands’ lack of sexual desire.

Fertility is such a touchy subject. And while I think most people have become more sensitive about making comments to people struggling to have a (or another) child, apparently those of us who have a fertility surplus seem to be fair game. And today it’s ticking me off.

(the final straw came when a mother of four – soon to be five – commented that I was sure going to have my hands full. Excuse me? She AND her husband don’t even have enough hands for all of their kids.)

So, what family size comments have bothered you lately? I’m not the only one who’s touchy, right?

Haiku Friday – Post Crash Edition

Doctor says I SHOULD

have painkillers, relaxants

even some steroids

But I am pregnant

so I get some Tylenol

and a heating pad

I shouldn’t complain, because it all could have been so much worse. Part of me appreciated the doctor’s sympathy (and his support that I must have been hit a second time – which the cop left out of the police report – while twisting back to check on the kids) to explain my right side pain), but I also wish I didn’t know that I could be on lovely prescription painkillers right now. It’s not SO bad, but typing and bending my head to look at the computer screen are painful and I’m in blog withdrawal. Thank you all so much for your good thoughts and patience.

Haiku Friday – Tantrum Edition

Asked for a break

a bit dizzy, had to sit

Ironflower MAD

It is the most gorgeous day of 2008 thus far, and after story time I took the kids to the playground. We had walked, so by the time we got to the park I was a little tired. On the way there, I had called Hubby and convinced him to bring us lunch so that we could have a family picnic. Upon arrival, the kiddos headed for the swings. Soon Lovebug wanted to get down and run around, but not Ironflower.

I soon realized that with the actual heat, the pushing the stroller full of library books and my  basic nausea that I needed to sit down. I told Ironflower that I was dizzy and needed to sit on the bench for a few minutes, so she would have to get out of the swing. Her response was to scream.

She screamed and wailed as I took her out of the swing. She kicked and stomped while I walked to the bench. She followed me, telling me how awful I was. She knocked over the stroller. I put her on the bench next to me for a time out. She continued to scream and wail. She tried to get out of her time out.

When Hubby showed up, instead of having a family picnic, we left. Ironflower screamed the entire way home and for a good half an hour in her room. I was so angry. I couldn’t stand this little brat who  had ruined our family’s day. And where the hell was my daughter?

When we talked to her about it later, all she would say was that she was mad at me for not playing with her. What have I done wrong?

Haiku Friday – First Trimester

Nausea, exhaustion

all from a little round grape

I want my caffeine!

 

If the general first trimester yuckiness wasn’t enough, this is the advice I got from my weekly pregnancy newsletter this morning:

Start a daily ritual to connect with your baby. Diane Sanford, a clinical psychologist who focuses on pregnancy and postpartum adjustment, encourages women to set aside two five- to ten-minute periods a day to think about their baby. Just after waking up and before going to sleep works well for many expectant moms. During these times, sit quietly and gently rest your hands on your belly. Focus on your breathing and then start thinking about your baby (your hopes and dreams, your intentions as a parent, etc.). It’s a great way to initiate the bonding process and to help you plan for the kind of parent you want to be.

I hate advice like this. And had I read this crap when I was pregnant with Ironflower, I would have felt so guilty. At that time, I was working. I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed and rolled out when the alarm went off for the third time in the morning. Sure, I chatted with her when I drove to work and at other points in the day, but I never sat quietly and focused on my breathing while thinking about her. It’s just not my way. I chat with the Grape (that’s this week’s fetus size) often, too. But when I have a chance to sit quietly, I’ll be sleeping, thanks.

 

But what about “initiating the bonding process”? Give me a break. This makes the bonding process sound all complicated, like it’s something you have to work at. Granted, there are people who take longer to bond with their babies than “normal”, but it’s still something that just happens – it’s not rocket science. And it happens even when a woman doesn’t carry her child, so why stress out a woman in the first trimester with advice like this? (Though if you choose to do this, I’m not judging. Go right ahead, as long as it actually makes you happy.)

Haiku Friday – My Twenty-Five Dollar Hat

Preschool fundraiser

Ladies Night Out – of a kind

so long, low on chairs

Spent twenty-five bucks

Didn’t win anything at all

but got baseball cap

there were nice baskets

filled with such pricey prizes

fancy vendors too

stood for three long hours

didn’t even buy paisley

lacrosse stick holder

Didn’t eat either

Just had some bottled water

Not a real night out

And I think the worst part of it is I’ve yet to hear what the fundraiser was for. Being the slacker class mom, I haven’t gone to a meeting in a while. I could never get a babysitter on the right nights. Not that I tried that hard. My life is busy enough as it is. And it’s one thing to make sure Ironflower’s class parties are perfect, it’s another to raise money for a school where we already pay tuition.

Maybe I’m a little bitter. Our discretionary funds are small enough – to have wasted twenty-five dollars (movies! lunch out! a pedicure!) to stand around for three hours AND not have won anything (one woman won FOUR prizes, FOUR!) AND know that the school is pretty well stocked. . .it rankles a bit.

This attitude is probably something I should add to my “Reasons I’m A Bitch” list, huh?