What if?s

Emma is at the age of “what if”.  Usually she’s worrying about something.

Today it’s me who is worrying and playing the what if game.

My sweet girl is going to kindergarten.  In about 2 hours.

What if someone is mean to her?

How will she handle it WHEN someone is mean to her?

What if she is mean to someone?

Milestones.

She is ready. She is smart. So why is my heart hurting so much?

I wrote her teacher a letter about her.

Dear Mrs T!

I just wanted to let you know a few things about Emma.

She loves stories and songs and making up wild tales.  There is an ogre who lives in her Auntie Jenny’s attic, and a troll named Bluebell who lives in movie theaters.

She still believes in Santa Claus and fairies.

When Emma is happy she is usually singing.  She’s a huge fan of Taylor Swift and Sarah McLachlan.  She also likes the musical Wicked.  She can memorize songs very quickly.

She loves dancing and dressing up.  She loves to be read to and will beg for more stories until my throat is sore.  She LOVES to learn. She says she’s going to take every class in the world so she can know everything.

She loves camping and movies and ice-cream and dark chocolate.

She is eager to please and loves to help.  She is affectionate, she loves to hug and snuggle and we are trying to make her understand that she doesn’t always have to hug her friends, that not everyone likes hugs as much as she does.

She is afraid of the dark (sometimes), thunderstorms, and cats (most of them).  Because she is imaginative and creative she is always thinking up bad situations and asking what if.  I don’t know if that is normal, as she’s my only one.   I know I was the same way when I was her age.

We let Emma choose her outfits. Sometimes they are a little wild, but we don’t like to stifle creativity and we get such a kick out of them.

She’s basically this busy little dancing singing fairy.  She is SO MUCH FUN. We both think she’s the neatest child in the world and we are so proud of her.

I went on to talk about the family situation, the legal stuff, and volunteering.

Milestones.

So I guess, on the up side of “What if”…because it’s odd to contemplate that my sweet 5 year old daughter will someday be a woman, What if she turns out to be every bit as awesome as I think she’s going to be?

Good afternoon, beautiful and terrifying spooklettes.

There is this website, it’s called Talk Like Warren Ellis and it insults you in the awesomest way.  You must go, enjoy and spread the awesome Britishness of it all… Apparently Warren Ellis is a British writer.  And he appears to be QUITE  awesome, judging by the greetings he gives on twitter.  I’m QUITE pleased!

Want another sample???

“Good night, space whores of the intertube.”

Once upon a time

There was a wee bit of a hullabaloo on Twitter today because of appliances.  We won’t go into that, as far as I can tell the more important parties are all playing nice (which is why I follow them!)

But it reminded me of my favorite appliance for years.  My ex evil step mommy Lori gave me a KitchenAid food processor and I loved it. LOVED IT.

I was pregnant, and had just married Jeff when I came home to find the lid melted.  Enough that I couldn’t use it.  So of course I inquired as to WHY my lid was melted in odd places.

Turns out that Jeff had his friend Mike over (this same Mike got so drunk he PEE’D on my bathroom floor!!!) and he brought over some glass knives? and they were using the lid (which had a shoot) to suck the smoke?

I was so pissed. Why?

#1 I take good care of my appliances,  it was 5 years old, and I used it all the time.

#2 I was pregnant, and didn’t take so much as  Tylenol, the entire time I was pregnant, and he was putting illegal drugs into something I used on a regular basis.

#3 HE RUINED IT. So even if I felt like I could have cleaned it, I didn’t have the option.  And no. He did not replace it.  And I’ve had three food processors since then and they’ve all sucked hairy goat balls. I am currently without one.

#4 He’d promised to keep his damned filthy drugs out of our house.  So he broke a promise. Again.

I should have just listened to my heart and brain and divorced him then, 2 weeks after marrying him.  He truly had no respect for me, or our marriage.  Breaking promises like that is a huge red flag. Anyway.

It’s kind of humorous now, in a way.  Except I still need a fucking food processor.  And I’m pretty sure if he hadn’t fucking melted mine, I’d still have a working one.

What my husband has to put up with

We go to a sporting goods store.

We go to the ammunition isle, cause we need bullets for the pistol.  There is no 9mm ammo in stock. Guess no target practice for me.

So I say “Sorry, honey, its all the gun toten freaks who are buying all the ammo cause Obama’s gonna take thier guns from them. ” (apparantly this gets some dirty looks from some of the freaks in the isle)

“But really Obama’s too busy trying to make sure they have health insurance for when they accidentally shoot themselves to actually take their guns from them.  So really, their guns are totally safe!”

Brian steers me out of the isle.  Because I have to say all of that in a southern accent.  REDNECK accent.

I ask him if he loves me, and he says yes.

“Its cause I’m Klassy!  Klassy with a K!.”

So then he says something to the effect that he’s glad he got out of there without being shot.  Poor guy can’t take me anywhere. Damn my overdeveloped sense of humor.

My husband and I just had a Ménage à trois with a spider.

No. Not on purpose.

Yes. The spider is now dead.

Brian had to defend my honor.

You are welcome.

In which Brian learns a valuable lesson

A couple of weeks ago the boys were playing Axis and Allies until three in the morning.  Not a problem.  Except they were drinking.  Again, not a problem.  Except Brian said he’s be home by ONE and it was THREE when I woke up and his phone was dead and I didn’t know where he was.

He came home and didn’t quite understand why I was pissed. (Cause I was worried!?)  But he was suitably repentant and life moved on!

Last night we watched Amélie, a subtitled french film. ADORABLE.  If you like subtitles, which I do. Call me crazy.

Anyway, there comes a point in the movie where she’s supposed to meet up with her male interest and he’s late, and her brain goes a little crazy.

“-Nino’s late. For Amelie, there’s only two possible explanations

. He didn’t find the picture.

. He didn’t have time to piece it together

because repeat offenders took him hostage.

Chased by the police,

they managed to escape.

But he caused an accident.

When he recovered, he couldn’t remember anything.

A trucker gave him a ride

and believing that he is a fugitive, put him in a container to Istanbul.

There, he came across Afghan adventurers,

who took him with them to steal soviet missiles.

But their lorry exploded on a landmine in Tajikistan.

The only survivor, mountaineers helped him out,

and he became a mujaheddin fighter.”

“THIS IS WHAT MY BRAIN DOES!”  I exclaim to Brian!  “This is what I think when you are late!  My brain automatically takes something tiny and explodes it into something big.”

And now Brian knows how crazy I can truly be.  And he still loves me anyway! SO really the lesson learned is that I have a French brain or something.

I loved the movie! You should watch it!

Inquiring minds want to know

So North Korea let our journalists go.

I would give almost anything to know what was said in that meeting.  Or what we gave them in return.  Because you know they didn’t do it out of the goodness of their hearts.

What was in it for them?

WTF Facebook?

I just declined to become a fan of GOD on facebook.   Much to the chagrin of a “friend”.

“Why won’t you?  I mean, you believe in God, right?”

Um well… probably not the same god she believes in.  But she’s taking it like I personally rejected an invitation from God himself.  IT’S NOT FROM GOD, it’s from some 19 year old bored kid!

Anyway, not to vent on religion and whatnot, but HELLO??????  Can someone please explain why my eternal salvation is at risk, simply because I choose to friend/fan REAL people on face book?