| Friday, December 08, 2006 |
| I'm it! |
I've been tagged by my dear friend Kimberly. This is officially my first meme.
Dear Santa,
It's been years since we last spoke. Although, I trust you've enjoyed the cookies and milk I've faithfully left out every year (and the occasional beer, but that's just between you and me, Santa). The reason I'm writing this year is that I have undergone a procedure to remove my Bah Humbug (otherwise known as marital seperation) and I'm feeling much more in the Christmas spirit than I have in over a decade. That, and the fact that I won't be seeing many presents under the tree that didn't come from the Dollar Tree, unless you come through for me this one last time.
As I'm sure you know, I have been a very, very good girl. Overlooking a few screaming tirades (per day) and calling in sick every once in a while just so I can get some sleep. And that time I forgot to feed the dog. But, I remember to feed the kids every.single.day. They may not see the inside of a bathtub regularly, but I supply them with plenty of good smelling lotions and hair products to mask the stench. I have done more laundry than I thought was humanly possible and I've even been completely caught up once or twice in the past 12 months, which is an improvement over the previous year.
I voted Democratic and rescued an animal from the shelter this year. I refused to put the smackdown on Bookem at least 968 times this year alone because it wasn't in the children's best interest, even though I would have found it very personally satisfying.
That said, here are the things I would like to see under the tree this year:
1) The Nanny. No, not Fran Drescher, there is enough nonsensical chit chat in annoying high pitched voices going on around my house as it is. No, I'm talking about that Nanny 911 chick. Speaking of smackdowns, my kids need one. Badly.
2) A Boy. My own personal boy of the muscular, shirtless variety to wander around my house and do shit that needs to be done. Including me :) Said boy will keep his opinions to himself and his bodily functions private. And stay out of the Nanny's way.
3) The voice of an Angel. The fact that I cannot carry a tune has never stopped me from singing out loud at the top of my lungs. It would be nice if it sounded as good to others as it apparently does to me.
4) Post baby-body miracle tonic. Extra strength. In chocolate, please. I'm sure you've gotten this request in spades, but please make sure I get mine before your stocks run low. I have had 4 babies and the considerable morphing in my midsection must be stopped and reversed before I exit my 30's. According to Janet Jackson, 40 is the new 20 and I want to look like her when I get there.
5) Mr. Right. I know this is a lot to ask, especially since I already have a Boy on order. But, seriously, if you don't deposit him under my tree, how will I ever find him? In an ideal world, he and the Boy can peacefully co-exist. Ya feel me?
6) A solution to global warming. Earth can be as peaceful as a sleeping baby but it won't matter if it's too damned hot to live here. Oprah and Al Gore really freaked my shit the other day.
7) A winning Lotto ticket. If you give me this one, I promise to send you a Christmas card next year instead of a list. I'll still put out the cookies if you want. Hell, I'll serve you the cookies from a platter perched on top of my brand new post-surgical breasts. Just show me the money!
8) Some Act Right Juice. Not for the kids, they have the Nanny. It's for me. Sometimes I just can't seem to get my shit together and a little help would be appreciated. No, gin does not work. Neither does Prozac. I've tried.
9) A pocket full of Karma. To be dispensed at my discretion to whomever I see fit. My hit list is very full right now, so we better super-size it. And I may need a refill on this next year, regardless of my financial windfall.
10) The ability to suspend time. Really, even with the Nanny and the Boy, I still don't see how there can ever be enough time to get everything done. And I'm going to have a lot of shopping to do.
So you see Santa, I think I'm being quite reasonable. I'm not asking you to deliver me the moon (although the deed to a plot of land up there might not be a bad idea, in case that whole end to global warming thing doesn't pan out).
In the event that you aren't able to come through on any of these perfectly sane requests, something sparkly would be nice. Or something electronic. Or, hell, something that doesn't cost a dollar.
Until next year,
Diane
P.S. Tag Martha and Mingaling, you're it! |
posted by *******DIANE******* @ 10:23 AM  |
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| Multilingual |
I have this giant, purple chair that everybody loves. It's actually a chair and a half and it reclines and it so soft and pretty and comfy. Currently, I have it tucked into a corner of my room where two windows meet and I sit in my beloved chair after a long day and read and watch TIVO and snack and snooze and whatever. Escape. My purple chair = escape. Occasionally, I share the sanctity of the purple chair with a child sipping a bottle or with homework in her lap or a book begging to be read aloud. But mostly, I hog it all to myself.
For the past couple of weeks, my heater has been broken and, despite my landlords good faith attempts to get it in working order, it has yet to be fixed. Because I am a good and loving mother, and have no interest in treating frostbite, I have allowed 3 of my 4 children to camp out in my bedroom so we can all share the one space heater in our arsenal of weapons against the cold. The 4th child, Pokeboy, has such a small inner-sanctum that his computer keeps the whole room warm. Besides, the computer might have nightmares if he left it by itself all night ;)
Sharing your bedroom with 3 little girls is not fun. Not fun at.all. They treat my room as they would treat their own. Which is to say carelessly and messily and with utter lack of respect. Now, when the time for going to bed comes, I cannot send them their separate ways and retire into my peaceful retreat. My retreat has become a zoo.
Last night, after a long day and evening, I sat in my sweet, sweet purple chair, fully reclined, listening to Queenie chatter endlessly about a script she is writing for a skit at school and holding precious Scooby as she drifted towards dreamland. Poor Stanky had been vying for attention for a good 30 minutes and had been repeatedly told to go lay down and go to sleep.
Suddenly, I see these little disembodied feet sticking out from underneath the footrest of my recliner, straight up into the air shaking up and down vigorously.
"Do you know what this means in Spanish, Mommy?"
"I have no idea, Stanky."
"It means 'Stop it'".
Who knew my child was bilingual? |
| posted by *******DIANE******* @ 9:47 AM |
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| Thursday, December 07, 2006 |
| The two faces of me |
You know what I realized today? I'm depressed.
My house is a mess, I'm forgetting appointments right and left, I'm up 5 lbs. in less than a month, I'm tired, and I feel like my kids are sucking the life right out of me. Quite a contrast to Monday's post. It's not like anything specific has happened in that time either. I'm just feeling very edgy today.
Just 6 weeks ago I was feeling pretty good about things, feeling like I had all my little ducks in a row. Then, about 3 weeks ago, Queenie got sick and then I got sick and in the short span of a week, those damned anarchist ducks staged a riot. At this point, I'm not even sure where all of my ducks are, but they sure as hell aren't in line. There may be a couple in line for Starbucks, but we need the caffeine. *sigh*
The house being a mess is both a cause and a symptom of my depression. I can't stand having messes everywhere. It is truly making me feel nutso edgy. Therefore, causing me to feel stressed and depressed. But, I can't seem to get off of my ass to do any real damage control, which means that it is also a symptom that I am depressed.
The kids are completely.out.of.control. And it's bound to get worse because we are closing in on winter vacation, which means that they are going to be home all day, storing up energy and boredom and saving it for when I get home from work. Yay.
Admitting I have a problem is the first step, right? |
| posted by *******DIANE******* @ 9:15 AM |
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| Monday, December 04, 2006 |
| An epiphany, of sorts |
You know what I realized today? I'm actually kind of happy right now. It just hit me out of nowhere, really. I mean, I'm in the midst of a divorce, I'm broke more often than not, my kids are completely out of control half the time and I find myself screaming at the top of my lungs more than is probably healthy. But my overall stress level is down from 6 months ago. Or even 3 months ago. I'm somewhat lonely, in that I-could-really-use-a-good-man-right-about-now kinda way, but I'm filled with hope about the future and all the possibilities that it may hold. Stuff around my house keeps breaking down and my attitude is pretty much "Eh, it'll get fixed".
What is wrong with me? Whatever it is, I hope the cure is years away :)Labels: Happiness |
| posted by *******DIANE******* @ 2:49 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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