Within 10 seconds I looked back and saw her literally crashed out. She wasn't lying. haha! I wish I could switch off like that.
Here's a picture of my awesome cousin who awesomely badgered the Fort Smith store until they gave her the Charlotte Russe posters for me. Awesome! My mother in law thinks I should make a hat out of the poster and wear it to my ten year reunion. hahahahah...I'm seriously considering it.
I've been pretty excited lately because a friend of mine invited us to story time at the Bentonville library, and its AH-MAZ-INGGGG. So SO much better than that crummy Bella Vista Library, with the crummy frumpy grumpy judgemental volunteer workers who hate children and possibly eat their souls. What? Its true. Anyways, it was awesome finding out that this super library has an excellent story time, excellent selection, and excellent online services (of which I have learned to say 'Bonjour, comment allez-vous?' and 'Salut, ca va?' I'm so hoity-toity now that I will not be telling you what that means, I am fully immersed as a stuck up french woman. I feel I should have a long cigarette thingy attached at my hand. They still use those, right?) but they are federally funded, which means they serve ALL of Benton county. What does this mean? Free library card for mwah. Ho ho HO!! (my best throaty french exclamation) It feels good to have resources at my disposal, and inspired me to start "school" with Lillian. At Starbucks. Starbucks will be making a few appearances in this post, reader beware. She now knows her colors and will point to them when asked, counts like "Free, Foe, Go! Un, Fee, Fo..." You get the point. I'm thrilled.
I have recently discovered that I have not lost my problem solving skills after birthing two children, having survived pregnancy hormones, and post-natal ups and downs. Prime Example: My swiffer stopped spraying. I have been so frustrated before when they have all seemingly STOPPED working, then once you throw it away you feel obligated to immediately buy another or your floors will never be clean again. And who washes their floors by hand? I'll be the lady that washes her floors by hand. Sick. Having decided to look at this perplexing situation as a man would, I checked for 'mechanical failure'. Having decided then that I have no idea how this works other than pushing the button makes it go, I decided a different route. I looked up online other intelligent peoples who have had simmiliar dilemas. I had a thought that maybe the spray nozzle was gunked up and possibly just needed some CLR to help it flow freely. Turns out, I was exactly...wrong. One likewise intelligent person had such a problem and it was suggested to change the batteries. Oh.My.Gosh. Do you know how many Swiffers and Clorox Mops I have thrown away in the past because I felt it simply stopped working?! Well 3, but that's beside the point. What a waste! It works like a dream now, first use out the gate it was like a firehose shooting far and wide. ('Firehose' makes me think back to my first boyfriend. I was 16-shut up, I was a severely late bloomer-and my boyfriend was 21. This sounds horribly scary, and I would never allow my daughters to date such an older man, but he literally acted like a 15 year old. So in one sense I was the older between us. Plus he wasn't into anything, drinking drugs smoking or otherwise. Picture painted? Okay. It was my first makeout experience (again, no judging that at 16 I had my first real makeout session and kiss in general) and he looks over at me grinning, laughing he smacks his pants lightly and exclaims "Firehose." I was horrified. First off, major corruption happening. I had no idea what he expected from that, other than nervous girly laughter. I was scared, not for my safety, but for literally having no knowledge of anything sexually saavy. Needless to say, nothing happened, ever. He was my first boy yo-yo-ing experience, poor guy. Maybe a few of you remember him from having been my junior year prom date. hahahah. So the word 'firehose' has been tainted for me from that particular experience. I think he later became a fireman. Strange coincidence. That is my swiffer story.
I belive I literally have ADD when sleeping. The dreams I can actually remember make me feel like I'm on crack, because they are such a big freaking mesh of daily experience, one thing never has anything to do with the other, but they are combined in one. Example, you chant?
I was swimming in a bean shaped pool filled with salt water, because its the newest thing these days, at least on a show I saw some time ago. Suddenly there are baby seals in this beautiful blue water, laughing and playing together. It was really very charming and relaxing. In a moment the dream changes to me being in a bar with two men, I am intoxicated and laughing, my arms around both walking out. They are gay, and fancy my shoes and choice of dress. I am walking with them down the street, then into a coffee shop/cafe, it is morning. I remember with a jolt that my girls are still in my car waiting for me, possibly all night. Sudden dread, I have to make it to them!! How could I have forgotten? There is a large dispute by a train yard I am apparently walking towards to find my car, and I have a feeling around the corner out of sight are my babies in a car. They are gang members, and start firing at one another, and as this is happening there is a narration I hear. I literally feel like I am watching a crime show. There was narration like "All of a sudden, they started shooting at each other," (then they start shooting, like I was directing what was to happen) "and everyone started fleeing," (men start fleeing) "and I turned round quickly and slid down on my hip like a baserunner." (Keslyn turns quickly and sliding down hurts hip.) Boom. Just like that. Then I am awake, because for the third time that night Doug tries to sleep diagonally and his head is approaching my bubble zone, threatening to bash mine. I am being attacked not only in my dream, but in real life too. I sleep tensed and ready to duck...and I wonder why I'm tired during the day? ha!
I have been people watching at Starbucks, and I find these people are the most ridiculous personalities. I can't help but laugh, and sometimes I do. I am an awful people watcher, because I think when you do it you are supposed to be incognito. To be an invisible spectator. I gawk and laugh, looking two or three times. There was a man yesterday who walked with such a twist in his hips he was sure to be gay. Groomed to the max, two cups he was cheerily swiveling his was out with. The thing I couldn't figure out were the jeans. Totally not matching with his demeanor. Wranglers...or Levi's, I couldn't be sure, my eyes were bewildered by his jazzy like saunter out of the building. Laughing. More laughing. Another man comes in with sunglasses, a bluetooth ear piece in his ear, spiky blonde-ish hair, and what I can only describe as a snakeskin like look about his clothing. Obviously very self important. My laugh does not escape my mouth, but rather out my nose, I tried to suppress it but it found a way out anyways. He was on the phone, naturally, and what I think his Posse trailing behind. Poor girl. I get all of what's coming to me from the judgement by knocking over my first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season all over my table, chair, wall, floor, and jeans/shirt arm. So very embarassing. The guy who works there and thinks he's friendly with Lillian and I because we "bonded" over our love for different names (he liked my name-that I did not pick-and how he named his daughter something different, I don't know, Potpourri or something. He continued to tell me his friend named his daughter 'Caspian'. Major eye rollage.) asks me what kind of coffee I had. I tell him, thinking maybe he feels bad for my stupidity and will surprise me with a new one! Not so. I never see him again. I spend 20 minutes thinking any minute now he will bring out a yummy goodness. Why would he get my hopes up like that?! I should have told him Caspian and Potpourri were amazing names!! Dammit!! Sigh...oh well.
It was nice sitting with people who sound like they actually finish conversations and such. Maybe they're older and have already gone through the stage I'm at now, where conversations are ended by our own choice, not because your child is crying because her sister won't share a toy, which spurs on another crying bout when you make the other child give the toy up, then you can't hear and can't remember what it was you were talking about anyways. I envy those people just a little bit. Especially when I am at home and have the urge to relieve myself, and my posse feels the need to join me. Everyone in the same bathroom, fine. Its the child who needs to hug me while I'm sitting on the toilet, and the smaller one pushing me forward so she can see the potty going into the pot because she's curious, and the dog that just has to sit as close as possible to all three of us and is just THERE, that is a little MUCH.
Here's a crappy picture to help illustrate what I mean:
I'll end with a funny phrase Addie has been throwing around lately. There are boys at her preschool that chase her at the playground. I think she's exaggerating when she says she does NOT enjoy it. She has a funny serious face going when she talks about it. She also watches Phineas and Ferb, and this line from Candace she has applied to her life: "Mom, I'm going to BUST those BOYS!!!" hahahaha. Such a comedian and she doesn't even know it!! Life is screaming at me, literally. More later!
-Kesolyn
p.s. >HERE is the French Onion Dip Pizza recipe a few of you said you'd like to have. Its SOOOOO yummy, gruyere cheese is a little pricey, but definitely worth it. I love this recipe, and it was definitely a delicious homemade recipe! :D
No comments:
Post a Comment