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I Have a Cold

so you get a quiz.

(courtesy of Mary P.)

An Open Letter To The Couple Sitting Behind Me At The Movies Last Night

Hi there. First off, let me start by saying how utterly adorable you were with your snuggles and your giggles and your little whispers of nothing. You looked such the picture of new, young love--complete comfort without the complacency that familiarity often breeds--that you warmed the cockles of my cold, dead heart.

And then proceeded to fan that spark into a towering inferno of annoyance.

Look, I'll lay it out for you. Unlike you, I was not at the cheap theatre catching the 9:00 showing of Pirates of the Caribbean 3 because I had nothing better to do on a Saturday night. Ok, sure, Facebook Guy was cryptic and ambiguous when faced with the possibility of making plans, leading me to decide that an actual date with myself was preferable to a psuedodate with him, but that's not the point here. The point is, it took me four months for the planets to align and time and space to fold in on themselves in such a way that sitting in the theatre ogling Johnny Depp as a sexually ambiguous yet still shower nozzle worthy pirate was actually an option for me. And then you two decided that you were bored, and hey, why not go to the movies? After all, the cheap theatre is only $3 now. You can't rent a new release for that!

What I'm trying to say here is that I did not pay that teenager thirty bucks for the privilege of sitting in your livingroom.

You're into each other. I get it. You're interested in what each other thinks and feels and that's great. And really, it's lovely that you want to make sure that neither of you misses anything of importance while taking their turn to gaze adoringly at the other. The running commentary you've mastered to avoid this pitfall is really quite convenient. For you. For those of us who don't suffer from similar distractions, however, it's a wee bit irritating to be subject to the SAP setting. Especially when we've shelled out thirty bucks (plus pop, chips and pizza) for the opportunity to pay full snackbar prices at the $3 theatre to see a movie that will probably be out on DVD by the end of the month.

For you, this was just another Saturday night. But for me, this was Saturday Night. Next time, please be aware of the distinction and plan your evening accordingly.

Best Mommy Ever

I am hereby claiming the title of "Best Mommy Ever" for myself. What did I do to earn such an auspicious honour, you ask?

Well, I'm pretty sure I clinched it when, after about half and hour of listening to Diva Girl natter on about her plans for playing "princess fairies" at her sleepover tomorrow, I finally snapped during the detailing of why each crown went to each particular girl and said "I don't care anymore."

Let me just explain here that the explanations of this particular game were endless. And exhaustive. And repetitive. And there is really only so much "The blue crown is for water, the red jewel is fire, the green one is for earth, and the yellow is for air" combined with "let me show you how I make them fairies with my wand" and rationalizing of why only half of the fairy contingent gets wings that a mother can take before the brutal honesty slips out.

And lest you all think that I've forever damaged her fragile self esteem with this example of quality parenting, I'd like to assure you that after a few brief moments of injured silence, the Queen of the Fairies was back to happily planning out exactly how she would boss her minions around tomorrow. Using the exact same words.

I'd think that maybe I was trapped in some level of hell, if not for the knowledge that tomorrow I get to live this experience. Complete with unwilling minions who might just not be as eager to submit to the endlessly detailed rules of this game in person as they were in absentia. So this is not in fact hell, it is merely the previews.

Thank goodness I've already hired a babysitter.

See? I told you I was the best mommy ever!

If you think you're the Best Mommy Ever, write a post telling everyone why and then head on over to Kate's blog and claim your trophy.

Sunshine and Rainbows and Sweet Puppy Kisses.

I've already waxed poetic about my love of Diva Girl's new school, but please indulge me a little bit more. Because I am just loving all the changes switching schools has brought (and I'm not even being sarcastic there).

First, there's the bus. It's still a little odd to be sending her off like that, but it gets easier every day. Especially when I consider that what was once a 45 minute round trip that included crossing a major street during rush hour traffic has morphed into a two minute game of tag through our back yard.

Then there's the social aspect. Diva Girl has friends. As in plural. And not just casual, situational acquaintances or girls who she simply thinks are her friends. Real live actual friends. Who invite her to birthday parties, and on play dates, and call her on the phone just to chat. There is something incredibly painful in listening to a couple of eight year olds chat on the phone, especially when you factor in a baby sister screaming for her turn, but the look of joy oh Sabrina's face each time she realizes that the phone is for her is worth my bleeding ears.

And finally, there is the lunchbox issue. Today, Diva Girl took a peanut butter sandwich in her lunch! Peanut butter! To school! I am positively giddy! I know that Melissa Summers has been working hard to show us all that there are many, many exciting alternatives to ye olde PB&J, but when you've spent the last 5 years at a peanut free school, in a daily struggle between what your incredibly picky daughter will eat and what you are allowed to send, the freedom to blow right past the "may contain" warning and into the land of ACTUAL nut products is a luxury that should not be underestimated.

I'm not naive enough to think it's all smooth sailing--the nightly tears over the french homework and the epic weekend meltdowns are certainly enough to keep me grounded in the reality that change--even good change--is hard. But when you've got school buses and friends and peanutbutter to balance things out, it all seems so much more manageable somehow.