| Thursday, June 29, 2006 |
| Things that make you go hmmmm... |
Ever notice how some people at the gym are just "bouncier" than others when using the cardio equipment? It's a point my cousin and I have been pondering lately while using the various torture devices behind the rows of cardio machines. A couple of days ago, we encountered the bounciest we've seen, a young woman using a machine that is some type of elliptical/stair-climber mixed breed. Bounce, bounce, bounce went her ponytail. And everything else. Fortunately, she was a trim gal and the jiggle was fairly minimal from the rear view. Is that why she was so bouncy? Was she just perky because she thinks it's cute? Or was she trying to outrun her thong? Questions like these plague me.
In other news, I took Stanky to see the movie "Cars" yesterday, just her and me. Queenie had a date to go skating with a friend and Pokeboy has pretty much seen friends at least once a week since summer vacation commenced. But poor, poor Stanky has been cooped up in the house and catching a bad case of cabin fever. It was nice to have the one on one time with her. She really enjoyed the movie and so did I.
Although, I could have done without the constant questions. "Mom, are we almost there?" That one came at a rate of once every 2 minutes. I was remarkably patient, if I do say so myself. Another benefit of one on one time - no tag teaming = more Mom patience. "Is it getting ready to start?" "Is this the movie?" "Why isn't it starting?" "Is it almost over?" "Why is everybody sad?" "What's wrong with him?" "Who's that guy?"
I realize that I profess to be all-knowing pretty regularly, but seriously, she believes me? |
posted by *******DIANE******* @ 9:38 AM  |
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| Tuesday, June 27, 2006 |
| And they're off! |
While working out at the gym yesterday, sitting at the tricep torture device, I caught my profile in the mirror wall (aka, The Wall of Shame) and realized that for the first time in a painfully long while, my boobs actually stuck out farther than my bellay. While sitting.down.even.
To be fair, my belly hasn't actually stuck out farther than my boobs since I was carrying one of the wee babes in there. But it's probably safe to say that they've been running neck in neck in some kind of unholy race since the birth of my last child and, particularly while sitting, the belly has been gaining ground at a frightening pace. I should probably mention, in the interest of honesty, that the boobs were a little engorged last night since I rushed off to the gym without nursing Scooby and pumping during the day is a thing of the past. But, even so. I'll take victory where I can get it.
My cousin said that my aunt noticed I've lost some weight on the back end. Tonight, glute work. |
| posted by *******DIANE******* @ 9:01 AM |
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| Monday, June 26, 2006 |
| Move over Mama Rose |
From day one, I knew that my little Queenie was down with the drama. Commencing the moment she burst from my loins (that's another story, y'all), she began to wail dramatically and to continue with this wailing for a good, solid 60-90 minutes. I've got it on video, natch. And it's been nothing but drama ever since.
It really shouldn't come as any surprise that Stanky has followed suit. Particularly when I look back at videos of her early months, starring a dancing, twirling, gyrating Queenie and co-starring a tiny, studious, on-looking Stanky. I say studious because I think she literally studied every.last.move, technique, tear and dance move that Queenie staged from the moment she could focus.
Stanky taught me an important lesson early on. I don't know nothing from drama. If Queenie is the Drama Queen of the house, Stanky must be some kind of Drama Overlord. I actually fear the Scooby-drama in my future. She is shaping up to be her sisters-squared (to the Nth power).
How do I manage to survive in this house of histrionics, you want to know? I do what any smart, self-respecting mother would do. Try to squeeze a buck out of it somehow.
Not immediately, of course, I'm not going to sell them to the gypsies, despite my threats to do exactly that. No. This is all about investing in the future. So I signed them up for Children's Theater. Stanky's gonna need stage experience to be the self-proclaimed "rock star" that she plans to be. And, I mean, let's be realistic, as cute as they are, these kids aren't likely to be discovered walking down the streets of The No.
Behold the cuteness: 
So. Children's Theater. A few hundred bucks and hours and hours of rehearsals later, they had their stage debut last week. Can I just say fan.fuckin.tabulous? My kids, that is. I didn't really pay much attention to the parts of the play my kids weren't in. As flighty as that sounds, it was very difficult since I had a teething, talking, tantrum-esque toddler in my lap. At some point, I had to actually leave my seat and walk around with her, but that's neither here nor there.
Back to the girls. I don't see why this should be surprising to me in the slightest since I see them perform every.single.day. In front of the big screen tv. That isn't quite big enough when a 5 year old and 10 year old are dancing right in front of it. And yet, it was surprising. Because they are kids after all. And, also, I didn't watch rehearsals. I had to stop that early on in the process because Mama Rose? Has nothin' on me. Fortunately, I was able to see how destructive my presence was to Queenie's creative process, so I used those hours every week to spend alone time with Scooby and let the chips fall where they may.
It was a good decision. Stanky delivered her two lines ("What a geek. Destructo boy!") loudly and with unbelievable clarity, looking directly at the audience. Queenie had significantly more lines and stole scenes she was in even when she didn't speak. That's my girl(s)!
I imagine this will be only the beginning for Queenie, who will likely audition for the company's production of Pocahontas next month. I don't know about Stanky. Her whining about having to go to rehearsal and deciding to quit the play every other week was draining. She may have to wait until she's a little older before I resume grooming her to be my eventual gravy train. On the other hand, what's a Diva-in-training to do if not act a little diva-ish? |
| posted by *******DIANE******* @ 2:26 PM |
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| About Me |
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Name: *******DIANE*******
Home: California
About Me:100 Things
Email Me: HERE
See my complete profile
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| Cast |
Pokeboy = 15 y/o son
Queenie = 11 y/o daughter
Stanky = 6 y/o daughter
Scooby = 2 y/o daughter
Bookem = STB Ex-Husband
Moody = 16 y/o step-daughter
Pinky = 5 lb furball
Java = Boxer-mix rescue
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