I have been in San Antonio these last few days visisting everyone and I finally got to meet my mom's oncologist, who was younger and cuter than his pictures on the South Texas Onconolgy Website show him to be. I also got to meet her drug study nurse (my mom is being super cool and donating her body to science--while she is alive!!!). Annabelle got completely shy when introduced to Dr. Smith and he understood why immediately. "She is probably not to keen on doctors," he observed, "let me try to find cookie or a piece of candy or something." I surreptitiously handed him the emergency lollipop I keep in my purse for just such occasions. He gave it to her and left to go do doctor stuff. So we were left with the study nurse and Annabelle relaxed and was her normal chatty self. Then we went into the waiting room and as we were walking out Annabelle said "Nice doctor?" Which I think translates into "that was a nice doctor and he didn't stick stuff in my ears and I still got a lollipop--who knew???"
I left to go to Houston and then my parents had to meet with the nurse again. When they did, she told them that Annabelle seemed advanced for her age.
Obviously she wasn't at the house earlier in the day.
I was trying to get her ready to go meet the oncologist and she really didn't want to change out of her play clothes. I had managed to get her top off when she tried to stall by saying "pee-pee, potty?" So I took her. When Annabelle pees, she cannot have her pants on, so I took them off. She didn't pee, of course. Then she wanted to wash her hands with the "baby soap" (little soaps my sister made 7 years ago that my mom still uses--waste not, want not). Then she wanted to brush her teeth with a toothbrush Hyphen left at my parents' house. I knew he would be super-keen on that and I knew that would occupy her for a while, so I let her. She was standing on a terry cloth covered vanity bench my mom has in the guest bathroom. I proceeded to finish my makeup and pack and make the bed. While I was fluffing the pillows the mom-ping went off in my head. The mom-ping is the silent noise every mom hears when her kids are up to no good. I went in the bathroom to check on her and she was still brushing her teeth but there were two, man-sized pieces of poop on my mom's terry cloth bench. The third piece was still emerging. I burst into laughter, did a super quick cost-benefit-analysis and ran to get my mom because I knew the consternation this would cause her would make the inevitable tongue lashing I would receive on my bad parenting habits totally worth it.
I rushed to my parents room and then opened their closed bathroom door.
Guess who else likes to brush their teeth buck-ass nekkid?
That's right, my dad.
The sight of his rear-end didn't even phase me as I was on a mission to hear my mom speak Spanish in exasperated tones.
Me: "Sorry dad, mom come quick and see what Annabelle is doing."
My mom runs out, expecting something cute, and then: "Ay dios mio, Annabelle!!!! What are you doing? Stella???? Do you theenk thees is funny? Cabrona. Where is her diaper? Why is she naked? Ay chihuahua. Why didn't you clean this??? Ay, Annabelle don't move...." Etc. etc. etc.
Of course I am laughing hysterically and Annabelle just looks perplexed.
When the fallout was over, I saw my dad and said "Hey sweet cheeks."
Dad: "you are the one who is going to have to live with that image, not me."
When we were kids, Audrey used to answer the phone and say "Looney bin" instead of "Stevens residence." It was so good to be home.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Santa baby
Some things seem like a good idea, like getting bangs or wearing a sweater dress, but in actuality they are not. That's what Annabelle and I learned about our trip to see Santa today. You see, Annabelle loves Santa. We have a Norman Rockwell's Deck the Halls out from the library that has a picture of him on it and she loves it. "La-la book, La-la book," she says every night. Whenever she seems him in someone's yard she says "San-ta Claus" and gets really excited. Sometimes she gets it a little confused and thinks he is Jesus, which is understandable because they both love you and have beards.
So I thought it would be a good idea to put her in a little Christmas dress and take her to have her picture taken. Problem number one was the dress. I had the perfect little cutesy dress picked out that I got on sale a few weeks ago. So this morning, I asked, rhetorically, I might add, "what should we wear to see Santa?" Her response? "Penguin shirt." You see, when I bought the cutesy little dress, Annabelle found a red t-shit with a penguin on it, took it off the rack and went running around the store with it saying, "Penguin, cute, Penguin, cute." So I got it for her. That is what she wanted to wear to see Santa, and you know what? She was right. Santa can see through artifice and I think if she came in a cutesy little dress, he would have said something like "Annabelle, is that you?" She was keeping it real, and he appreciates that and so does her Mama, even if from time to time she wants to put her in frilly little dresses with bows in her hair.
So we head off to the galleria, get there, park, only to find Santa is on the other side of the mall from where he was last year. Problem number 2. Oh well, gives me an excuse to browse. So we get there and are the second in line. She is transfixed and there is a look of joy on her face that I can't describe. You see, Santa from afar is just, well, a ripe jolly old elf. Up close is another matter. We made our approach. He was a great Santa, a real beard and everything. He even had ruddy cheeks, from being so cold at the North pole, I guess. Although they might be from drinking too many Busch Lights--I mean, hot toddies, to keep warm. As I am making this observation, Annabelle starts to get cold feet. Problem number three. Santa, in his infinite wisdom sees this and says to his helper taking the picture, "make this one quick." Annabelle says "Hi" to him and then when he puts her in his lap, she starts to scream. I am torn between sympathy for my daughter sitting on a bearded, creepy old stranger's lap and trying really hard not to laugh. The picture was short and as we were paying, I heard the next customer blame her child's shyness on Annabelle, saying "it probably didn't help that the other kid was screaming at the top of her lungs." Ho Ho Ho to you lady.
You know what? Santa, the real Santa, knows that you are not supposed to sit on strange people's laps without protesing and he marked that in the nice column for Annabelle which is a good thing because we are close to C-day and every little thing counts.
So I thought it would be a good idea to put her in a little Christmas dress and take her to have her picture taken. Problem number one was the dress. I had the perfect little cutesy dress picked out that I got on sale a few weeks ago. So this morning, I asked, rhetorically, I might add, "what should we wear to see Santa?" Her response? "Penguin shirt." You see, when I bought the cutesy little dress, Annabelle found a red t-shit with a penguin on it, took it off the rack and went running around the store with it saying, "Penguin, cute, Penguin, cute." So I got it for her. That is what she wanted to wear to see Santa, and you know what? She was right. Santa can see through artifice and I think if she came in a cutesy little dress, he would have said something like "Annabelle, is that you?" She was keeping it real, and he appreciates that and so does her Mama, even if from time to time she wants to put her in frilly little dresses with bows in her hair.
So we head off to the galleria, get there, park, only to find Santa is on the other side of the mall from where he was last year. Problem number 2. Oh well, gives me an excuse to browse. So we get there and are the second in line. She is transfixed and there is a look of joy on her face that I can't describe. You see, Santa from afar is just, well, a ripe jolly old elf. Up close is another matter. We made our approach. He was a great Santa, a real beard and everything. He even had ruddy cheeks, from being so cold at the North pole, I guess. Although they might be from drinking too many Busch Lights--I mean, hot toddies, to keep warm. As I am making this observation, Annabelle starts to get cold feet. Problem number three. Santa, in his infinite wisdom sees this and says to his helper taking the picture, "make this one quick." Annabelle says "Hi" to him and then when he puts her in his lap, she starts to scream. I am torn between sympathy for my daughter sitting on a bearded, creepy old stranger's lap and trying really hard not to laugh. The picture was short and as we were paying, I heard the next customer blame her child's shyness on Annabelle, saying "it probably didn't help that the other kid was screaming at the top of her lungs." Ho Ho Ho to you lady.
You know what? Santa, the real Santa, knows that you are not supposed to sit on strange people's laps without protesing and he marked that in the nice column for Annabelle which is a good thing because we are close to C-day and every little thing counts.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
the songs of Christmas
When we were kids back in the early eighties(the best time ever to be a kid, as far as I am concerned--more on that later), we would listen to records as we decorated the tree. My parents had two Christmas records, and they were, and still are, the best compilation of Christmas music in the world. There was one song I dreaded though--the most mournful song you'll ever hear--"No Room in the Inn, " as sung by Mahalia Jackson. It begins very slowly, "When Mary and Joseph went out on their journey..." and proceeds to go on about how weary they were and how the Innkeepers told them there was no room in Inn and how Jesus was born in a manger. And when I was little, I wanted to cry every time I heard it, and because I was and am a freak, I hated crying--still do--so I had to fight back those tears. I knew where on the record the song was and got such tremendous anxiety as we got closer to the song. How could anyone tell Mary and Joseph that there was no room for them? Just thinking about it now brings tears. After experiencing pregnancy I feel even more in awe of Our Blessed Mother. Of course, there are lots of times in our lives when we have no room for Jesus, probably lots of times throughout a day. Sigh. But we try to make room.
The song I loved and looked forward to was the Jim Neighbors version of "Go Tell it on a Mountain". "If No Room in the In" is the suffering, fatigue, and fear of those days, "Go Tell it on a Mountain" is the joy. Advent vs. Christmas. You hear it and you want to just dance like crazy and sing from the top of your lungs. I love it toward the end of the song when he belts out "Tell it on a Mountaaaiiiinnnnnn!"
And although the ipod has replaced the record player, we listened to each of those tonight as we trimmed the tree. And "Last Christmas," as sung by George Michael, because, as I have said, we are children of the eighties.
Our tree is beautiful. The coverage on the bottom is excellent. Annabelle is of the school "more is more" and likes to put all of the ornaments on the same branches. Looks really good actually and it takes the guess work out of where to put each one. I am going to finish the top that way.
The song I loved and looked forward to was the Jim Neighbors version of "Go Tell it on a Mountain". "If No Room in the In" is the suffering, fatigue, and fear of those days, "Go Tell it on a Mountain" is the joy. Advent vs. Christmas. You hear it and you want to just dance like crazy and sing from the top of your lungs. I love it toward the end of the song when he belts out "Tell it on a Mountaaaiiiinnnnnn!"
And although the ipod has replaced the record player, we listened to each of those tonight as we trimmed the tree. And "Last Christmas," as sung by George Michael, because, as I have said, we are children of the eighties.
Our tree is beautiful. The coverage on the bottom is excellent. Annabelle is of the school "more is more" and likes to put all of the ornaments on the same branches. Looks really good actually and it takes the guess work out of where to put each one. I am going to finish the top that way.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
what I have been doing
These last few days have kept me very busy and I haven't written much and so to my two followers who actually follow my blog, I am sorry, but seriously, mom and dad, I call you, like, a million times a day. I have been writing in my head for years now and now that I do this, it is almost constant, but getting on the computer is such a hassle, you know, turning it on and all, I just hate doing it sometimes. Here is what has been going on:
1. Christmas is upon us, well technically it is advent now and it won't be Christmas until Christmas day, but who cares about technicalities when you have Christmas lights to put up. That's right, we put up lights this year. One of the things I think pre-marriage counseling should ferret out is if you are a Christmas light person. If you are and your spouse is not, well proceed with caution. If you are and you spouse is not, but likes to give "constructive criticism" about how you wrap the trees, turn the hell around and find a new one, or content yourself to a life of spinsterhood. One year I was out putting lights up by myself when my next door neighbor felt so sorry for me he came out to help-- even though he is aged, uses a walker and was caring for his dying wife. He somehow guilted Hyphen into helping and so every year since then we either have complete bitching while helping or total nonparticipation. I am really not sure which is worse, because nothing kills the Christmas spirit like putting up lights by yourself. Of course, this was before we had Annabelle. I knew Annabelle would like Christmas lights because she is cool like that. She has enthusiasm which is one of the best qualities anyone can have. So her papa, who loves and adores her, headed up the charge to go to Big Lots to buy stuff to decorate the front of the house. I would have just been happy with just some icicle lights, but now our house looks like a tasteful gingerbread house, and I love it. And, once again, our marriage survived the hanging of the lights, which is a Christmas Miracle. Of course, we have no tree yet, which is another battle entirely, so it might be a short lived miracle.
2. I told my sister I would make her crib stuff. The bumper pads and skirt and sheet that she wanted was $600 for just one!!! And I figured it couldn't be that hard, which it isn't, but I have been spending every night working on it instead of spying on people on facebook, like I normally do. I wanted to have the bumpers and crib skirts ready by her shower, and I am almost done, just one more skirt to go, and that is pretty cinchy, actually, so I think I am going to make it.
3. Christmas card design took up some time. I just want to go back to the days where you sent a card with no photo, but I am afraid those days are gone. I have some rules for what I consider a successful card. 1. Cardstock. 2. Must say Merry Christmas, not Happy Holidays. 3. Must contain family picture, not just one of Annabelle. There was where the problem is, we only had one of us and we were at the beach, looking, well, like white trash. So we tried to create a moment of us lighting our advent wreath, which we do every night, it worked for a bit until Annabelle grabbed a candle and Hyphen almost burnt his hand. In the end, I went with some pictures throughout the year. If you get one, please note how Hyphen is carving the pumpkin with RUBBER GLOVES because he didn't want to get his hands dirty. Sigh.
4. Situation: a few years ago, in a very blond moment, my sister taught my dog (who is so stupid she would not have figured this out on her own) how to jump up on the sofa. For the past two weeks she is on it every night. Surprisingly, I am the only one who cares about this. Can't get pumpkin juice on his hands, but the dog on the sofa is okay.
5. Altar guild: I joined the Altar Guild at my Church, or as I used to call it, the old lady club. I had been meaning to join a few years ago, when they had Altar Guild Sunday and they all came marching down the aisle with canes and walkers and then the priest asked us to thank them for keeping the Church clean, but I never got around to it. Now that I am a SAHM I figured try it out. There are 13 young ladies in our sub-guild and when I say young I mean mid 30s and a couple of 20s. I went to my first meeting this week which just happened to be their Christmas luncheon. We spent the first few minutes praying for all the ladies who had fallen and had strokes. I kid you not. Looks like we joined just in time, but I do think they are going to haze us. At the end of the meeting we took a quiz testing our Christmas movie and carol knowledge. The last question was "what do you call small inexpensive gifts." The answer, of course, was stocking stuffer. The lady next to me said ( a little loudly I might add) "I call them cheap."
Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
1. Christmas is upon us, well technically it is advent now and it won't be Christmas until Christmas day, but who cares about technicalities when you have Christmas lights to put up. That's right, we put up lights this year. One of the things I think pre-marriage counseling should ferret out is if you are a Christmas light person. If you are and your spouse is not, well proceed with caution. If you are and you spouse is not, but likes to give "constructive criticism" about how you wrap the trees, turn the hell around and find a new one, or content yourself to a life of spinsterhood. One year I was out putting lights up by myself when my next door neighbor felt so sorry for me he came out to help-- even though he is aged, uses a walker and was caring for his dying wife. He somehow guilted Hyphen into helping and so every year since then we either have complete bitching while helping or total nonparticipation. I am really not sure which is worse, because nothing kills the Christmas spirit like putting up lights by yourself. Of course, this was before we had Annabelle. I knew Annabelle would like Christmas lights because she is cool like that. She has enthusiasm which is one of the best qualities anyone can have. So her papa, who loves and adores her, headed up the charge to go to Big Lots to buy stuff to decorate the front of the house. I would have just been happy with just some icicle lights, but now our house looks like a tasteful gingerbread house, and I love it. And, once again, our marriage survived the hanging of the lights, which is a Christmas Miracle. Of course, we have no tree yet, which is another battle entirely, so it might be a short lived miracle.
2. I told my sister I would make her crib stuff. The bumper pads and skirt and sheet that she wanted was $600 for just one!!! And I figured it couldn't be that hard, which it isn't, but I have been spending every night working on it instead of spying on people on facebook, like I normally do. I wanted to have the bumpers and crib skirts ready by her shower, and I am almost done, just one more skirt to go, and that is pretty cinchy, actually, so I think I am going to make it.
3. Christmas card design took up some time. I just want to go back to the days where you sent a card with no photo, but I am afraid those days are gone. I have some rules for what I consider a successful card. 1. Cardstock. 2. Must say Merry Christmas, not Happy Holidays. 3. Must contain family picture, not just one of Annabelle. There was where the problem is, we only had one of us and we were at the beach, looking, well, like white trash. So we tried to create a moment of us lighting our advent wreath, which we do every night, it worked for a bit until Annabelle grabbed a candle and Hyphen almost burnt his hand. In the end, I went with some pictures throughout the year. If you get one, please note how Hyphen is carving the pumpkin with RUBBER GLOVES because he didn't want to get his hands dirty. Sigh.
4. Situation: a few years ago, in a very blond moment, my sister taught my dog (who is so stupid she would not have figured this out on her own) how to jump up on the sofa. For the past two weeks she is on it every night. Surprisingly, I am the only one who cares about this. Can't get pumpkin juice on his hands, but the dog on the sofa is okay.
5. Altar guild: I joined the Altar Guild at my Church, or as I used to call it, the old lady club. I had been meaning to join a few years ago, when they had Altar Guild Sunday and they all came marching down the aisle with canes and walkers and then the priest asked us to thank them for keeping the Church clean, but I never got around to it. Now that I am a SAHM I figured try it out. There are 13 young ladies in our sub-guild and when I say young I mean mid 30s and a couple of 20s. I went to my first meeting this week which just happened to be their Christmas luncheon. We spent the first few minutes praying for all the ladies who had fallen and had strokes. I kid you not. Looks like we joined just in time, but I do think they are going to haze us. At the end of the meeting we took a quiz testing our Christmas movie and carol knowledge. The last question was "what do you call small inexpensive gifts." The answer, of course, was stocking stuffer. The lady next to me said ( a little loudly I might add) "I call them cheap."
Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
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