I wasn’t gonna use violence. I don’t always use violence. Do I?

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Doing clean up the other night, Bean observed: “There are 34 Bristle Blocks, mommy.”

So, naturally, I asked if she had counted all of them, to which she replied: “No, I used my imagination and I counted them in my brain! I practice-ed, and practice-ed until I got it right.”

Not bad, kiddo.

Sadly, as we discussed what she was bringing for show-and-tell, she decided on baby Cheerilee, the fan-flippin-tastic talking MLP she got for her bday. Not her take-apart human torso, not her tree book, not her body puzzle or even her “biology book with the baby being born!”. I’d have been happy if she even took the “mommy” horse, whose boobs were actually boy parts. But no. Baby Cheerilee. Ah well, she is only 4 after all.

So I dropped her off Wednesday morning, and reminded her the next two nights were with daddy, as I had a couple functions to attend.

Wednesday night was some ‘Texas Music & Film Playmakers Social‘ at The Ranch downtown. I wasn’t looking forward to the event, but ended up having a blast and meeting a few interesting folks. Last night I was supposed to go to a Door64 happy hour, but ended up leaving work early because I felt like crap – no fever, just a lot of nausea. I was also smelling The Smell all day long, even at work.

I’m a bit better today, and thankfully, no Smell, but I may be in for a parent-teacher conference later today. More on this when I’m not about to head to work, but apparently, Bean had a meltdown and kicked a teacher, then, as she was running away, kicked a kid’s head. She also whacked her dad in the face. I need to understand how it all went down, get the teachers’ sides and get Bean’s side, but I’m a bit perplexed how to handle this, and wondering if anyone else is seeing/has seen stuff like this around 4 years and how they handle(d) it …

Help!
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Birds need to fly, and girls need to use the toilet

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Do you ever just feel like people take things just an eensy bit too seriously?

I’m watching a discussion on age-appropriate movies for a two-year-old, and while I agree with some of the issues folks have, I’m finding myself shaking my head on some of them. And the sidebar conversation about how people go to great lengths so their kids aren’t freaked out by the auto-flush toilets in stores/restaurants.

I’m trying to decide if I’m just a mean/bad mommy, but I don’t really go to great lengths to shelter my kids from too much. Yeah, when Bean was potty-learning, the auto-flush toilets bugged her; they still do. But so does *any* flushing toilet when we’re out because they’re all so damn loud. That’s life. Instead of putting TP in front of the sensor so it doesn’t auto-flush, or bringing along my own potty in the car, I just talked her through it. I told her that’s just the way some toilets work and I didn’t like it either, but it is what it is. I’ve made a deal with her that if I *can* let her leave the stall before the toilet flushes, I’ll be happy to, but sometimes she just has to suck it up and deal with it.

I’m not trying to be b*tchy to the folks who go to these lengths; in fact, I can think of one or two kiddos whose parents probably have to do this and more, because the kids are truly that sensitive and need it. For mine, tho, it wasn’t a *must do*, it was a *could do* and I chose not to go to great lengths to shield them from a loud flush. I’m not the only person who takes them places – if I set them up to need that kind of coddling just to pee on the toilet, how do I ensure everyone does it for them?

To me, there’s things worth shielding your kids from: I have skipped The Lion King because Simba’s dad is actually murdered; I haven’t shown them Dumbo or Bambi, but Dave apparently has, without any emotional trauma on either kid’s part. Neither would be something I’d chose to show them if the control were always mine, but so much of life is out of our control anyways …

In a way, it seems easier to me to broach these ‘tough topics’ early on. Thanks to the death of a PT at her therapy place, Bean’s been talking about death for at least a year now, and understands that everything, people included, dies eventually. As time goes by and her level of questioning/understanding increases, her questions about death grow more sophisticated, but I’ve not seen any indication that knowing about it and knowing that people die has been detrimental to her or has scarred her in any way. It will just be something she grows up knowing about and talking about, much to some friends’ dismay.

Conversely, tho, I don’t discuss religion with her, nor do I want people discussing it in anything more than “some people believe xxx, it’s all a personal choice” terms. Much the same way I try to tap dance around racism – it’s just a concept that seems too complex for a four-year-old to understand. Death is pretty black and white; religion, not so much.

What about you? Do you try to shield your kids from unpleasantries? Do you tackle ‘belief’-type discussions with them? Why or why not?
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I’m like that kid in the story, the boy that stuck his finger in the duck.

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What a great way to wrap up a fun weekend – an email from Julia (and C) asking us to join them at the pool. An hour or so at a great pool, followed by BBQ and play at her place was a fab ending to a weekend of fun for the girls and I.

I was off on Friday, and the girls’ school was open, so I took advantage of a slacktastic day and had lunch with Shirley before picking the girls up. Saturday was an early day (ugh), so we stayed in jammies and hung around the house to ensure they got naps. Would have loved one myself, but by the time I got Miss O to sleep, Bean was waking up.

My parents came over later in the afternoon and we headed out to the girls school – they offered free parking and hot dogs/burgers for families that had kids there, and since the school is right across the street from the big fireworks park, it was a no-brainer. We walked over and checked out the vendors and stuff to do in the park, and the girls played on the playground for awhile. We went back to the school to hang out and play there, on the well-shaded playground, since it was, after all, *July in Texas*.

Grabbed some dinner and then my folks took Miss O home and Shirley and her older daughter met Bean and I to stay for the firworks. It was my first fireworks experience with Bean, and she loved it. I was grinning from ear to ear watching and hearing her reactions.

She was a little Mayor McCheese, too, hanging out with all her school friends and hamming it up for whoever would listen. She’s such a social little thing, and she makes me more social by default … especially when I’m removing her from a picnic blanket and stopping her from sharing some random kid’s lunch!

It was close to 11:00 by the time she got to sleep, and she was up this morning at 7:00, so I mandated a nap again today if she wanted to do anything this afternoon. We had breakfast at the bagel place, did a Target run and then O fell asleep in the car, as I drove her around, I got the email from Julia, so once both girls had a short nap, we hit the pool. Neither of my girls swim, so the pool in J’s neihborhood is fab, with a great beach-type entry and splash area. One of my neighborhood pools has the zero-entry thing, too, but best I recall, it’s just the way into the pool, not an area for plating, per se. Julia’s neighborhood actually has a whole shallow ‘pool’ area that the beach entry leads to, where the water stays pretty shallow. Bean and O loved it.

I managed to hit the 7:00 bedtime I was striving for tonight, and after the hour-long struggle to get O to sleep, actually got the house cleaned up a bit, too. I’ve got a stressful week coming up at work, so I really need to get to bed myself. Send me good thoughts that I don’t butt heads too hard with the boss or the officemate
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Help me out here, Spock, I don’t speak loser.

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Unfortunately, I do.

So, flew to Sarasota Thursday, landed, went to Kelly’s and we hung out drinking beer and catching up.

Friday morning was the beach with Kelly and her girls and Kerri and her boys. The plan was for the kids to play while the grown-ups chatted, but Mother Nature had other ideas and kicked up some good-sized swells. I spent a lot of time in the water with Kelly’s older daughter (9), who also happens to be my goddaughter. I did get in a nice long walk with Kerri from Crescent Beach to Siesta, though that wasn’t really enough time after so many years. But she had to work that night and again Saturday, so the little bit of time had to be enough.

Kelly and the girls and I went back to her folks’ place (they were out of town), spent some time in the pool and relaxed a bit. Then I got dressed and dolled up for my reunion and headed down to Casey Key. After a ridiculously long wait at the little bridge on Blackburn Pt road, I got there. I walked up to the entrance of the restaurant, panicked and went back to the car.

Why? I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was just kind of the loser who left in tenth grade, and why would anyone care what I had been up to or what became of me. I had a ‘what the hell am I doing here?!?’ moment that I couldn’t talk myself down from.

And I left.

I left because I was a coward who couldn’t bear the thought of standing around like a dumbass if no-one really talked to me. I hate typing all this – it makes me feel like such an ass now, but I’ve never held back before so why stop now. Usually it doesn’t cast me in such a bad light, though.

So, yeah – pansy supreme, that’s me. I’ve had “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me” in my head all evening long, as I procrastinated on blogging and copping to my loserdom. Even contemplated the old “I had a headache” line, but figured I needed to own the decision.

My Friday night was, instead, walking around on Island Park with Kelly’s younger daughter, then hitting St. Armands Circle for some strolling, shopping and ice cream from Kilwin’s. We got home around 10, and everyone crashed.

Saturday was a blast – Kelly dropped the girls off with friends for the day and night, and she and I ate, shopped and were somehow overserved when we went out at night. Breakfast at Yoder’s, shopping downtown, Publix subs for lunch, sunset at Sharky’s, beers at The Hub and Gilligan’s and then dancing to a totally attention-starved 80′s cover band at The Beach Club. (Seriously. Attention starved. Like after every song “Let’s hear it Beach Club!” and stopping after the opening bars of something everyone really liked and not starting again until everyone was screaming for it. I started screaming “love me! LOVE! ME!!!!”)

Sunday morning came around a little too early, but I got packed, hung out a little with Kelly over coffee, and then headed for my sister’s house to see her and grab some lunch before I hit the airport. It was great to see her, too, though she at least knows how to make a plane reservation and come to see people in other states. Unlike some best friends who shall remain unnamed.

And then back to work today, where my jet-lagged brain didn’t catch up until probably 2:00 or so. Next time, I burn an extra day off and make sure to give myself a day off between vacation and returning to work – because I was more or less worthless today and really, really don’t have time for that with so much on my plate.

At least I had my girls back tonight, and between all the hugs and kisses and O’s babbling, I caught a few good ones from the mouth of Bean:

I was born first so don’t push me around Miss O because I’m growed.

Mommy: Can you tell me about what you drew?
Bean: It’s art.

Bean (about ‘sugar bugs’ on her teeth): Why can’t I see them?
Mommy: Because sugar bugs are microscopic.
Bean: That means I need a microscope to see them.

Mommy, can you turn the light on for me? I’m scared. My mind plays tricks on me. Minds do that sometimes.

Yes they do, sweetie. They even trick you into thinking you shouldn’t do something that you really should have.
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I’m not soothing? I can be soothing. I could soothe your ass off, pal.

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I have some thoughts that will be shared *privately*, but let me just say that sometimes, I feel like kicking people in the shin. Hard.

Two days from now I’ll be chilling, poolside, in the balmy Sarasota and enjoying a beer with my BFF. I cannot wait. I haven’t seen her in almost 10 years, and it’s a long overdue visit. I’ll be down there for my 20th high school reunion – oddly enough, from the school I left after 10th grade. But Pine View is a kind of special case, where most of us were there from 4th-10th, so my leaving my junior year isn’t the same as if I had only known them two years, yanno?

I’m really looking forward to seeing my old classmates; I’m looking forward, too, to time spent with Kelly and Kerri, to being in my old stomping grounds, to seeing my sister, to the sunsets and sand and emotional recharge of Siesta Beach … And hopefully to not burning to a crisp when I go to the beach on Friday. I think it’s been just shy of a gazillion years since I’ve been to a beach. Actually, it’s only been since I was on a cruise about 5-6 years ago, but still. I’m fairly certain there are vast tracts of skin that have forgotten, entirely, what the sun is.

I’m also looking forward to getting my iPhone at work tomorrow. My poor boss – it was supposed to be for when I was there 90 days, but I’m going on vacation after being there two months So my punishment is an iPhone; that way I can do work when I have some free time. Because I’ll have sooo much of that. I figure it’ll be great for airport time.

And I’ll have a QWERTY keyboard!! Yay!! Do you have any idea how hard it is to text on the old Razr I have? It’s so sad.

Actually, I’m a little stressed about taking the time while I have so damn many balls in the air, but it is what it is. I’ll bring my laptop and the new phone and maybe be able to stay on top of a few things. Sort of.

And, since it’s way overdue, a couple pics of the girls.

And yes, she is out cold

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I’ve got beer. You want some beer?

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Ahh .. a little Los Bad Apples, a little Blue Moon … it’s a tough life but someone has to live it. All business meetings should include beer and martinis.

(FYI, I was all about the Blue Moon and *not* the martinis. Martinis + Blue Moon would equal very bad decision-making. Even in the marketing world.)

Nothing says summertime like a weiss beer with orange slices. Nothing. Kels, you may argue that Corona says it better, but you just need to come to terms with being wrong. And nothing says “solid bidness skillz” like weiss beer and bidness. I even built a bridge over troubled waters.

Yes. I am *that* good.

Work is crazy – I’m coordinating a career fair, 11 career building classes and a community event for 500+ people. Oh, and yeah – still doing my ‘regular’ job of copy writing, branding and client communications. I’m two weeks out from the career fair and only have half the employers I need confirmed; and 30 days out from the communit event (The Pink Slip Festival) and still identifying balls I’ve dropped on that one. I said I had event planning experience when I landed this gig, but was pretty specific that it was corporate events, so I’m a bit over my head here.

Doesn’t make my job any less fun, just a bit more overwhelming at times. I’m falling asleep thinking about all the stuff I need to do, dreaming about work and waking up remembering something *else* I have to do. Le sigh. I have ‘to do’ lists everywhere and if it’s not on the list and no-one reminds me, it’s in the dead zone – hopfeully I’ll remember, but if I don’t, hopefully someone will ut me some slack.

I have a 9:30 meeting tomorrow to wrap up more Festival loose ends, then need to get back on the phone lining up companies and recruiters for the job fair on the 8th. Oh, and did I mention I’ll be out of town the 25th thru 28th? I will. And likely with limited or no Interwebz … ah well, it’s extra motivation for Dan to get me my damn iPhone

On Sunday I got to see a coupe of the guys I went to college with; they were in town visiting (one was in Kileen on bidness, the other now lives in Houston) and Dave invited me to spend a little time with them when I dropped off the girls. It was really great to see them – it’s funny how those of us who go to college a little later really don’t change much over ten years. But man, do situations change. Last I saw these guys, I was getting ready to get married; now I’m dropping the girls off at Dave’s for his turn on parent duty. But sitting and talking to those guys was just like talking to them in 1999 while we were all studying at Marston Science Library at UF or over-indulging while we tailgated for Gator games.

Makes me even more excited about seeing my old middle/high school friends at my reunion this weekend …
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Come on, you’ve been dating for what, like 200 years?

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So I signed up over at match.com and their other site, chemistry.com … I’ve gotten more hits there than I ever got over at eHarmony, but I’m still hesitating on paying for the service, ya know? Although I’m not really sure how else grown-ups can actually meet other grown-ups … sigh.

Some of the pictures and usernames tho … now I know why y’all were advising wine and friends. I hated filling out the ‘about me’ stuff, too. I would have definitely done better with wine.

But some of the guys seemed normal and at least meet-for-lunch-able.

My chemistry.com analysis had me as a “Negotiator”, and here’s what they said about me:

You are a big thinker. You easily take the large, long view of almost any topic. You are comfortable juggling myriad facts. You tend to synthesize material easily and to think in webs of factors, not straight lines. You are imaginative and enjoy theorizing.

You are also socially savvy. You are good at both talking and listening. And you generally read people’s faces, body postures and tone of voice accurately, so you tend to intuitively understand what people want and need.

You are also highly compassionate. You care deeply about others. So you sometimes make personal sacrifices to be a supportive friend or colleague. And you like to work to improve the world.

You enjoy new ideas and novel experiences. You are flexible, affable and open to adventure. And you admire impulsive, spontaneous people, despite your tendency to plan ahead.

You dislike conflict. You seek “win-win” solutions. And with your skill as a negotiator, you adeptly bring peace to the chaotic world around you. You are a warm, insightful and often exciting companion.

I sound like a fab catch, huh? Does that really sound like me?

They said my best match would be a “Director”:

Daring, original, direct and inventive. A non-conformist. Skilled at abstract thinking and short-term planning. Often assertive and quite competitive. Tough-minded and efficient.

There are two guys “interested” in me, but I have to cough up $$ to find out more about them. Harumph.

The whole exercise has revealed two truths: I need some more (flattering) pictures of me. I also need to work on my figure a bit. Blech. I don’t do diets so I’m going to have to carve out workout time. Wish me luck with that. I won’t have time for the whole go to the gym and then shower routine on the mornings I have the girls, and I generally only have one or two weeknights when I could do something after work. So it has to be an at-home thing, and I absolutely *suck* at home-based exercise.

Who wants to be my virtual personal trainer?
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Country music; the music of pain.

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In all of my years, I have never been to a country-western bar/dancehall/whatevah.

While it’s not at the top of my return visit list, my evening at the Midnight Rodeo was fun, provided some entertaining conversation and even more entertaining sights and was way, way better than sitting home. (Kels, no reason for a phone call this a.m.)

Even if I did get home around 1:30 and have to work today. Sleep is for the weak, right?

My boss, Dan, had already offered Linda and I the couch at his place if we felt like getting too drunk to drive, but I dismissed that with “And then I can do the walk of shame down the credit union hallway … *with my boss*.” So I paced myself and made sure I was okay to drive. We had all met up a bit farther north beforehand so we could ride in one vehicle and we topped the night off with 1 a.m. Jack in the Box.

Highlights of the evening included Dan’s 24-year-old cousin saying “That’s been what, 15 years?” when I told him that I hadn’t really been out drinking and dancing since I was in college (ouch.) and Linda, the licensed massage therapist, explaining a ‘happy ending’ to a very young and very innocent-looking deputy sheriff. I’m still trying to wrap my head around how that even comes up in the course of conversation …

I was absolutey out of my element, again, but this pushing boundaries thing is kind of fun. Don’t think I’ll be standing in line for Enya tickets or suddently thinking “yes! my favorite way to vacation – a relative’s couch!” or anything, but when it comes to going out and having fun, I’m willing to expand my horizons. A little.

And match.com, huh? I may have to have the girls over, make a pitcher of Micheladas and start surfing …
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Fire bad, tree pretty.

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Ahhh …

Coffee, a relaxing get ready for work morning, the distraction of looking at flights and hotels in sunny Florida … I am so damn jazzed about getting to hit the beach, see sunsets and reconnect with old friends. Especially my bestest friend in the world

I found a hotel across the street from the beach, and now I’m back to playing with flight times. I thought I had booked already, but I had merely made a reservation (I didn’t *hold* the reservation which, we all know, is key). I’m nervous about anything less than an hour layover in Atlanta, but if I stick with one carrier, an hour should be safe. There won’t be that insane sprint up and down concourses …

As I look at departure times, I know I want to be there in time for sunset Thursday night, so I can either get there around 6 with a late morning flight, or I can get there in time for a late lunch with an early a.m. flight. Since I’m usually up around 6:30 anyways, getting up an hour earlier to make a 7:00 flight doesn’t seem *too* awful. And then I could grab lunch at The Main Bar and snarf down a Famous Italian or three.

Melissa, I hope your kiddos are better. You asked about my and Dave’s custody arrangement. There’s all sorts of options as far as summer and vacations go, and since we just make it all up on the fly, I’ve never bothered to pay much attention to that part. But the basic agreement is ‘extended weekend possession’ – he has the girls from Thursday evening through Monday morning the 1st, 3rd and 5th weekends of the month. So on 5-weekend months, I score two weekends off in a row. May was funky, because he technically had Memorial Day weekend this year, so he would have had 4 weekends in a row if we hadn’t split that weekend up a bit.

I am, apparently, ridiculously fortunate that both he and I are far more concerned with the girls than we ever were with pettiness, in that we’ve always been very flexible with each other on any changes we need to make due to travel, other commitments, etc. From listening to other folks, this is not the norm. But even early on, I could be mad at him for one thing, but still be totally accommodating if he needed/wanted to leave town on “his” weekend. And vice versa. And now that our post-divorce relationship has settled into a pretty easy thing, we can just talk and if one of us wants to modify something, we do it.

Since we’re back on the subject of divorce and details … while I was indulging in Micheladas in the shade with Dan this weekend, he asked if I was happier now post-divorce.

It’s a strange question, as I was not the divorce-seeker, and I fought to save my marriage.

It’s a strange question, too, as I don’t come from the position of “my marriage didn’t let me be me”. I always maintained my ‘healthy boundaries’ and never felt consumed or overrun by my marriage. To me, it was never about losing myself in another person, or surrendering my own wants / needs / identity to someone else. So, in a lot of fundamental ways, my post-divorce life isn’t that totally different from my pre-divorce life.

But after I got through all those disclaimers, I realized that – you know what? I *am* happier. Of course, the free weekends rock, but it’s more than that. It’s the total freedom, the not having to compromise with anyone. He really believed I never compromised, but there was a lot of compromise on my part, it was just more subtle than his.

Does my happiness necessarily mean the divorce was good for me? I don’t know; to me, marriage and relationships necessitate some loss of individual happiness in the quest for the common good. So it’s only logical that life outside of a couple should be happier than life within it. The solo life is free of so many stressors and pain factors that come with a relationship; giving yourself over to someone else means exposing yourself to hurts and heartaches you wouldn’t have on your own.

You gain a lot from relationships, too, but having had a variety of solo- and relationship- perspectives on ‘happy’, I think people are generally happier when they’re alone. It’s easier to be happy when you only have one happy to worry about; as soon as someone else’s happy is tied to your pleasure cruise, everything gets more bogged down and more complicated. So it’s easy to say “look how happy I am now that I’m divorced”. Of course you are. I am. Is it superior to the more muted ‘happy’ of a relationship? I’m not sure …

Maybe that’s the “good” thing about divorce – maybe when you start new relationships you do a better job of maintaining your own identity, your solo happy, and the group ‘happy’ is less muted …

That’s a lot to think about on a Monday. I’m not sure my brain is really functioning on that high a level. It’s back to the fire and the tree.

I told one lie. I had one drink.

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What a day. Did I really sleep until close to noon this morning? You bet your tush I did.

Pachanga Fest was really cool. Los Bad Apples were great, as was Gaby Moreno. I still have the beats from Los Bad Apples running in my head. It’s a band I would have much, MUCH rather preferred to hear at night, in a club, with a few drinks under my belt and *not* with my boss so I could have freed my hips to do as they pleased. I may have to catch them at a bar one night …

What also rocked was VIP status. Dan noticed the VIP area, and lo and behold, the armbands the event production guy left for us at the gate got us into the land of free food, free drinks and air conditioned comfort. And, bonus – real potties, not porta-potties. In this mystical land, I was introduced to a Michelada – which they prepared as essentially a bloody mary with beer instead of vodka. It doesn’t sound fab, but it actually tasted really good. And as I had quite the buzz from a couple Austin Ambers out in the sun, it was nice to sit, stuff my face with yumm-o food and drink something with less alcohol. Dan said they were supposed to have soda water, lime and hot sauce instead of bloody mary mix, but that got a big old what-ever from me- I thought they were just fine as is.

I had fun with my coworker, Linda’s, family as well – very nice people, with a very sweet Basset Hound. Linda’s sister, Jinnifer, makes gorgeous jewelry from beach glass. I sprang for a cool silver necklace with a silver-wrapped hunk o’ green glass. I slowed down on beers and paced myself here, then stopped for Starbucks iced coffee on the way home. All sweet and nummy.

As I was driving home, I was thinking about going out again. I know, I said it was a long-ass drive and I didn’t want to make it after drinking. But I really, really wanted to take my comfort zone and stretch it to the max … And besides, this is kinda what I need to get back into. Not necessarily the drinking part, but the social scene. Especially when I get these whole weekends off, right?

I did what I said I wouldn’t and came all the way home only to go back out again. And I didn’t shower, either. And I drove all the way *back* downtown to go out.

The band was totally worth it. Julia, Cindy, Shirley – they’re playing on July 4th again and y’all have got to go with me. The band is called The Spazmatics and the are an 80′s new wave cover band. They’re funny as hell and play songs we all know by heart. With the exception of being hit on by some generic creepy guy (who I totally lied to and told I wasn’t there alone), it was a blast.

And Kelly, I missed the hell out of you, especially when they played “Blister in the Sun”. I mean, seriously. Were we not just talking about that song? We totally need to find an 80′s cover band to go see when I’m in SRQ next month.

So now, after lunch with Shirley, I am beginning my “do nothing weekend” at 2:00 on Sunday. I’m tellin’ ya – it’s a rough life sometimes …
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