Almonds, Malfunctions, and Oops I Did it Again

The last week or so has been pretty big.  We took our oldest daughter to visit a college and then we celebrated our next in line with a birthday dinner.  

As we climbed in bed and snuggled in for the night, my husband and I were talking about the day.  My skin has been really dry, so I commented that perhaps I should take some vitamin E, which he found to be amusing, because I rarely remember to take any vitamins.  (Fortunately, I don’t have any health issues that require me to take medicine regularly, as I would forget to take those too.) He asked me if my grandma had recommended that I take a vitamin E.  I said no, but it seemed likely that she would be the person who would say that. 

As a child, when I would spend the night at grandma’s, the next morning I would have a vitamin C, a vitamin E, and an almond waiting with my breakfast.  My husband then asked, “Why an almond?  Like a peanut?” 

To which I replied, “No. Like an ALMOND.” 

He said, “Well, I didn't know if you meant like the nut, or something else.” 

I replied, “I didn't realize that almonds came in any other form!” and began to giggle. 

He then said that he was done with the conversation, and I giggled myself to sleep.   

This week at work I had a wardrobe malfunction. My first thought was, I wonder how Janet Jackson would handle this situation.  I mention her only because of the area in which I was having the malfunction. While I didn't actually reveal any skin, I did happen to notice that I was a little more, let’s say, comfortable than I should have been.  I looked down and noticed that one side was hanging a bit lower than the other side.  (At which point the song “Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro” played in my head.)  The problem was that I had no time to go and try to figure out the problem.  I chose to ignore it and to stay busy, that way no one would be able to notice that anything was out of sorts. 

After going to lunch with a friend, and then to the store (I kept my coat on), I got home where I could properly investigate.  The bra that I had chosen in the dark that morning was already having issues.  One wire in, one wire out, then somewhere in the course of the day, the strap broke too.  Not came undone --  as it was a convertible bra that could be switched around --- no, it just plain broke.  This was the straw that broke the bra’s strap, and it was retired to the trash.  I will be shopping for a new favorite very soon. 

I asked the teacher I work with the next day if she had noticed my wardrobe malfunction.  She hadn't.  Which leaves me with the question:  Which is worse: having a wardrobe malfunction of this magnitude, or having one, but no one can tell?  Think about it.

I injured myself twice in the past two weeks, both times while attempting to prepare dinner.   The first time I couldn't find the can opener that should have been in the counter top kitchen tool spinny thing  (the technical name for it).  I proceeded to go searching through drawers to find it, and  sliced open my thumb on an apple corer (it’s sharp without its cover, which is probably also hiding in the drawer). Then I whacked the top of my hand on the corner of the counter, so I got to go to school with a round bandage on my hand; you know, the kind you would put over a wart  (Hello granny, can I help you?) 

So as you can see, I’m very gifted when it comes to food preparation and all things domestic.  Not.  Shall we discuss how I keep putting clothes in the dryer, in an attempt to remove wrinkles from our clothes, because if I use the iron, I will burn myself?  I am incapable of ironing without causing bodily harm.  This would also be why I have short hair, so I don’t have to go near a curling iron.

Friday at school while walking out to the playground for recess with the children, I tripped and fell.  There is a place in the sidewalk that is uneven, a fact I am aware of and have made a mental note of.  Friday however, as I was walking out with my head turned, telling the children I would help them zip up their coats, I tripped over the raised-up sidewalk.  While they were asking me if I was OK, the only thing I could think was, “Mr. Kimble, are you all right?” (From Kindergarten Cop, “It’s not a tumor!”) 

I did manage to pick myself up and finish out recess duty.  After the children were safely in their classroom again, I informed the teacher that I had fallen and would be going to take care of that.  I went to the office to tell the social worker that I had fallen down, and that I would require a bandage.  She took me to the nurse’s office, and on the way there, poked her head into the principal’s office to inform him of my mishap.  He told her to get some Neosporin. 

When she couldn't find it, he came in and wanted to see the area in question, which was my knee.  (I then started doing a mental calculation as to the last time I shaved my legs.  I am married and it is cold.  I knew it wasn't that morning.)  He then proceeded to bandage my hairy knee, himself.  He didn't notice the hair, though, I’m pretty sure, as he was simultaneously talking to a student, and the social worker, who commented that I was biting my jacket and shaking.  The good news is I can now bend my knee, so Christmas shopping should not be a problem.

So my first accident report was on me, which is par for the course. 

I find all of it quite amusing.  I am accident-prone obviously, but I am also very blessed. Even with all the silliness that is my life, it all makes sense to me because I know I’m in the right spot with all the right people. 

                                                                                                                                                                              

This is 40...Well...Me at 40

I’m 40.  When did that happen?  I mean, I know the date of my birthday.  I know it happened, I just cannot figure out when I got to be so old. 

When I was a kid, I remember having to go to bed at 9 p.m.  I remember having to be home before dark.  I remember wishing time would pass faster so I could have my driver’s license, and today, my daughter was driving ME around.  Granted, I was telling her to stay in her lines like she was coloring and to remember the brake, but still, she was driving me, and not the other way around.

I used to dream of the day when I would leave home.  I would go to Chicago, live in the big city, and never come home again.  I would be very chic and I would have lots of friends and ride in taxis.  When I was a teenager, I don’t think I ever aged in my imagination past twenty I didn’t dream of turning 21 because I was never interested in drinking.  Up until the second semester of my senior year, I didn’t fantasize of having a husband and children either, but that changed when I met my future husband. Then I did dream of being married.  (The children part came shortly after we got married when he looked at me crosswise and I got pregnant.)

I don’t think anyone dreams of what life will be like at forty.  Teenagers don’t think, “When I’m forty, I’m going to … sail around the world.” Or “When I’m forty I’m going to learn how to play backgammon.” It’s just not done. 

This is forty.  My hair is short.  My hair has been short for a while now, but in my family when we women get old, we cut our hair.  I have now been every size between a size 3 to a 16.  There are parts of my body that have fallen and need extra support to stay up.  There is a side of my hair that grows faster and thicker than the other and the opposite side the back tends to flip up.  I wonder if my freckles are still considered freckles, or if they will become age spots.  My eyebrows no longer grow like they used to; only random strays here and there that I can pluck out myself.  Spandex is my friend.  I use Clinique but wonder if I shouldn’t be using Oil of Olay (AKA, Oil of Old Lady) instead. 

I say the phrase “Well, how ‘bout that!” all the time now.  I have surpassed sounding like my mother and have gone straight to sounding like my grandmother.  I think that makes me an overachiever, doesn’t it? 

My daughter, had she had a less dramatic mother, should have her license by now.  She doesn’t, because I have been too afraid to let her drive me around.  I’m getting a little better about it.  Maybe when she is seventeen, I will even let her drive at night or when it rains… or maybe not.  I may need a little longer.  She may need a little longer.  My middle child is right behind her; she will have driver’s ed next summer.  And she was just learning how to ride a bike last week.  OK, I know it was a minute ago. 

My baby?  My baby is going to be in double digits.  DOUBLE DIGITS!  He’s my baby.  I know I was rocking him to sleep just yesterday.  Today I turn around and I am only a head taller than he is.  Granted I’m not especially tall, but still. 

In the blink of an eye, it’s not me learning to drive, and it isn’t me dreaming of leaving home and going off to college, or even just driving to the mall alone.

My dreams are more along the lines of going up the stairs without my knees creaking.  Wondering how long I can go between coloring my hair.  If I don’t color my hair, how long until my entire head is grey?  Will I be 45?  50? 60?  Will I be doing commercials for urinary incontinence?  If I work at the school long enough, will it be “grandma hugs” I give the children, or will I still be able to give mommy hugs when I’m old enough to be a grandma?    

If that isn’t enough when I take the kids out for recess at school I yell at them to stay off the grass and stay on the sidewalk till we get onto the playground.  I ask my children if they were born in barns.  I have said to them to close the door I don’t want to heat/air condition the outdoors.  I have become one of the biggest cliché’s in motherhood.  This last weekend I went on a date with my husband and I reached over with a napkin to wipe his face.  (This did not earn me any favors.  He was a bit put out with me for that one.)

Where did the time go?  When I was younger the time seemed to pass so slowly.  I thought I would never get grown.  Now I’m grown and all I want is for time to slow down.  It seems to pass so quickly.  Days run over each other.  Weeks are suddenly months that are gone and years are gone in a blink.  I look in the mirror and I see wrinkles that weren’t there before.  I look at my children and I am looking up instead of down to look into their eyes.  Even the cats seem to be aging rapidly. 

We start out and we think we have so much time to do so many things.  The fact is we don’t know how much time we have and the older we get the less we have left.  We have to decide how we are going to spend what we have.  I think I will spend mine enjoying the teenagers telling me I’m old.   I will love it when I get to repay the favor someday.  I will keep searching for the perfect hair color, refuse to grow my hair out to wear buns, avoid skirts, skorts, and dresses that go well with aprons.  I will keep blowing bubbles when I chew gum and enjoy every jam session when I’m home alone.  Maybe I will need depends someday but doesn’t that just mean I get to dance longer without stopping to go “gotta go gotta go gotta go right now.”?  The sun shines brighter when you look at every day as a gift. 

Maybe forty won’t be so bad, after all I have a new haircut, I am narrowing in on the best hair color, and I can make big bubbles even with Trident gum.  The upside is I’m old enough I don’t have to apologize for enjoying it.

Mow the Yard, Maybe

I really love the song Call Me Maybe.  I feel better about that fact now that I know that I am not actually old enough to be the artist’s mother.  (Thanks to Wikipedia)  The song’s lyrics don’t really apply to me, so I thought it would be fun to try a rewrite of the catchy hit.  This way it applies to my life and makes a little bit more sense for me to sing it.  I also added a few notes and rewrites of my rewrites for your amusement.

Mow the Yard, Maybe

I threw a ball and it fell                       (Of course it fell, have you seen me throw a ball?)   

Where it landed I can’t tell                  (Tall grass?  Nearsightedness?  Combination?)

I looked to my kid as it fell                  (He should have been watching)

And now it’s in my way                       (Kind of like the swings on the swing set)

I might find it in a ditch                         (Which wouldn’t be so bad because I’m scared to mow the ditch.)

With small toys and trash scattered amiss      (What?)

I didn’t want to look for this                        (You got that right!)

But now it’s in my way

The ball’s bounce wasn’t holdin                  (Hello, I’m Heather and I’m not sporty.)

The tall grass is all that’s showin                  (Good news!  No dandelions!)

Hot day wind was blowin                           (It was dusty) 

Where do you think it went don’t be lazy      (Get over here and help me!)

Hey it rained this morning and this is crazy   (Is it?  Is it really?)

But I’ll get my mower and mow already        (You are welcome neighborhood watch dogs.)

It’s hard to look right at my yard I’ve been lazy        (Nearsighted, remember?)      

But I’ll get my mower and mow it maybe            (I wonder if we have gas?)

Hey it rained this morning and this is crazy

But here’s my mower, so mow the yard maybe      (You volunteered right?)

And all the other neighbors mowed already          (Of course they did.  Overachievers!)

So I’ll get my mower and mow maybe                (I’ll do it myself.)

You took your time helping to find the ball          (Slow poke)

It took no time to mow at all                          (I was singing and dancing so it was fun.)

You gave me no help at all                 (Was it my singing or the dancing that deterred you?)

So still it’s in my way                               (I’ll just mow around it.)

My skin got sun burned and pealed            (Aloe please?)

In the sun and the pain is real                         (Ouch!)

I didn’t know I would feel it                          (I’m quick)

But now the pain is in my way                       (Again aloe?)

The ball’s bounce wasn’t holdin                     (yeah yeah)

The tall grass is all that’s showin

Hot day wind was blowin

Where do you think it went I’ve been so lazy?

Hey it rained this morning and this is crazy

But I’ll get my mower and mow already

It’s hard to look right at my yard I’ve been so lazy

But I’ll get my mower and mow it maybe

Hey it rained this morning and this is crazy

But here’s my mower, so mow the yard maybe

And all the other neighbors mowed already

So I’ll get my mower and mow maybe

Before I mowed my yard                               Before I mowed my yard

The grass was so tall                                       It looked so bad

The grass was so tall                                       It looked so bad

The grass was so so tall                                   It looked so so bad

Before I mowed my yard                               Before I mowed my yard

The grass was so tall                                       It looked so bad

And you should know that                             And you should know that

It was so so tall                                               It looked so so bad

Tall tall tall                                                      Bad, bad, bad

It’s hard to look right at my yard I’ve been so lazy

But here’s my mower, so mow the yard maybe

Hey it rained this morning and this is crazy

But I’ll get my mower and mow already

And all the other neighbors mowed already

So I’ll get my mower and mow maybe

Before I mowed my yard

The grass was so tall

The grass was so tall

The grass was so so tall

Before I mowed my yard

The grass was so tall

And you should know that

So mow my yard, maybe

So much fun to write, I would like to insert that this week we mowed first.  We felt like rock stars for an entire four hours.  Then the neighbors came home and went to work on their yards.  Those four hours were AWESOME!  We celebrated our small victory with ice cream.