R.I.P. Grace

Yesterday, I had the most alarming experience while checking out of the supermarket.
I've never had to confront anyone for almost running me over with their cart but yesterday I lost my innocence forever.
It was almost 5 PM when I made my way to the packed registers with my basket full of food; I had some trouble figuring out the exact number of items in my basket, so I picked the shortest line in the express lanes. Suddenly I was showered with "craps" and alternating "S***s" from the lady behind me who had been in between checkout lanes when I chose mine. I was a bit shocked by her language-we were after all in a supermarket full of old people and children of all sizes and in my head I decided that if she shut her mouth I would usurp my place and let her go ahead.
The cursing continued, so I put my 12 items on the belt and took a step forward to scan my card when out of the corner of my eye I saw her push her cart full force in my direction and quickly snap it back just an inch from my leg- that was the last moment I'd put up with her, I turned back and told her calm but loud, "What?! You want to hit me?" and something along the lines of sorry, my extra three items are making her react in such a manner.
She looked at me with a smug smirk and forcefully placed her four chocolate bunnies on the belt never once apologizing for being such a baby despite her lifeless gray bob, glasses and wrinkles.
I resumed my checkout ritual and guiltlessly spent extra seconds asking the cashier where to change my $20 for quarters as she continued to almost soil herself in rage.
As I exited towards the Customer Service desk I heard her whining in a high pitch how "it just isn't fair!"

I admit I was weak for even reacting towards her and her violent intention of trying to ram me with her cart but "it just isn't fair" for a multitude of people to experience her ugly gestures and foul mouth. Whatever happened to remaining calm and collected or just restraining your anger and taking a deep breath or counting to 10 before reacting?

Despite the rampant cart rage that will continue to put everyone at risk of serious injuries, I will try my best to smile every time I set foot in a store or other public place no matter how chaotic the controlled artificial environment becomes because you or anyone else don't owe me or my temper a thing despite your slow pace or mistakes while choosing cans of soup or tomatoes.

And don't roll your eyes at me or impart your disdain when my kids are being loud and goofy within the confines of their cart, I can't stand their shrieks either but I'm not going to complain or even correct you as you run your mouth at the store like some drunken sailor ready to mount the next tart in a skirt!

If you can't stand crowds and long lines schedule your future outings between the wee hours of 1AM-4AM. Remember, assaulting fellow human beings is still frowned upon and my children will avenge me for my death at your hands.

So long, and thanks for all the fish. (Jerry's Obituary)*

6th of February 2007

Jerry (Candy) Lastnamewithheld, a member of the small, rare, and extremely odd Lastnamewithheld clan, died after a few excruciating days from unknown but believed natural causes.

Jerry was 1 yr. 11 m. 25 days our amusing pet-his actual lifespan may have been 4-6 yrs(a fish never reveals his vitals to mammals!).

In our absence, our friend, Marlene always took care of him. They probably had serious discussions about life, its meaning, and politics.
Jerry had a secret life as an explorer in the great unknown green habitat that was Sebastian's room. He also had some incompatible tank mates that he managed to kill off with his bad hygiene.

He has now joined the big murky waters of some sewage system after a brief toilet ceremony held on Tuesday evening.
The wake and burial services had a small attendance due to Superbowl Sunday commercials, Heroes on Monday night, and the Sabre's stroke-inducing game on Tuesday.

Jerry we will somewhat miss you and your speckled orange and pearlescent white scales.

Donations for another pet can be made out to Dora and her alone-No Pennies Please.


*first published on myspace

Dylan Part Deux * (29th of Jan 2007)

Now all or the very few that read this will start wondering what type of parent I am.
Yesterday my fearless child took a dive from his supervised highchair and knocked the right side of his head on the corner of the table. I caught him in midair and instinctively checked the old wound (ok, that's fine. Why's he screaming?).
"Great (internal*bleep*), he has a gash right below his right eyebrow and just outside his eye"
Luckily I was at my mother-in-law's and it wasn't his actual eye!
Wash,

Dry,

Apply Pressure,

REPEAT!
It just wasn't my month this year.
The wound wasn't coming together this time and I was frazzled that this was definitely going to be a drive to get to Syracuse considering the country roads my inlaws live near are well coated in snow and a poor helping of a salt deficient sand mix.
I managed to control the bleeding, again, and my mother-in-law had a well stocked first aid kit including those illusive butterfly strips.
Dylan was fine except for the gash and I was deeply moved when he took the tissue from me and blotted his face as we made our way to the hospital.
The wound finally sealed itself in time for the doctor to mess with it and cause it to ooze again. (I really hate that part)
I'm grateful that he did not require stitches but it was nerve racking to hold him down as the doctor applied the Dermabond.
The day ended with 3 out of the four in our family extremely exhausted-Sebastian had a blast: he attended a birthday party, had cake, went out with his grandparents for dinner and even had time to make a get well card for his brother.
All in all, I'm relieved Dylan is well and lively today.


Anyone travelling to Canada interested in bringing me back some cheap Dermabond?


*Previously posted on myspace

About Dylan (9th of Jan 2007)*

Rule #1: "You do not talk about fight club!"


"Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, savor you, bless you, before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it will not always be so. One day I shall dig my fingers into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch my self taut, or raise my hands to the sky, and want all the more for your return"-Mary Jean Irion


Seriously, there is no Fight Club.

It was our third day in the town of Liverpool and I was trying to get the final documents straightened out with the school office so Sebastian could start school.
I walked out of there a bit frustrated because the secretary wasn't working with me and on our way to the car I let Dylan chase after Sebastian as I opened the car. I turn towards the kids and see Dylan falling face first onto the cracked and gravelly asphalt. I scooped him up and what I thought was just a flake of gravel ON his forehead was actually a small triangle shaped piece of gravel IN his forehead. Blood squirted onto my face and on his, I frantically grabbed napkins out of the glove compartment and a bottle of water to rinse his wound.
I forgot to mention the screaming. There were ear piercing screams when he fell and also as I treated his wound.
My thoughts are racing and I'm becoming self conscious (these are the school offices and my car is emitting screams from a child and crying from the other one who is distressed by the whole affair) "OH GREAT,they all think I'm a terrible mother!" is the prominent thought flashing through me brain as I am trying to apply pressure to a screaming and very wriggly toddler.
It took me two phone calls to our surrounding family in the area(Thank God I now live close to them!) and Scott's great aunt was on her way to where we were so I could hold him while she drove us to an urgent care facility which is conveniently close to our home but on the other side of that part of town that crazy Tuesday.
It was nice that the bleeding stopped before we even stepped out of the car but I thought he would definitely end up with stitches since the bigger and pointier part of the small rock was what I pulled out of his face. The doctor told me there would be no need for stitches and a nurse came in to put steri-strips on him-Dylan was quite cooperative with her and didn't flinch as she treated him with peroxide and iodine.
I already see my future life with this kid as this is our second emergency trip and I just hope I can survive along his side and whatever he gets himself into.
*this blog was previously posted on myspace.

Jerry our suicidal fish (Aug 2006)

"Every morning it's difficult to get out of bed because my boys inch towards me to the point where I can only wriggle down to escape the unconscious mass of testosterone bent on suffocating me."-Dora Jesmore

Yesterday I awoke to the horrid sound of our alarm and made my way to my children's empty bedroom to get them clothes and feed our goldfish.
Thanks to the unnaturally colored plastic plant in the tank, I hadn't noticed that Jerry was gone until I stood over and noticed that Jerry wasn't begging for his flakes near the surface as is his habit.
Panic took hold as I searched in vain in his tank and I still can't believe he jumped out of a one by four inch opening at the top.
I quickly began to search the toy littered floor, Dylan had arrived and if he beat me to it his breakfast would definitely be quite the fresh treat.
I'm not the type that shrieks at the sight or feel of dead things but I let out a low yelp as I blindly felt around the bedside table and ran into a crusty yet slimy fish.
I picked up the dust bunny covered fish and jiggled him to see if he'd jerk; despite my gloomy thoughts he weakly responded by opening his mouth, so I dropped him back into his tank and watched him hopelessly swim upside down.
To our surprise he recovered within the next minute and resumed swimming around as if he'd never tried his stupid but daring escape. Scott believes he probably became suicidal due to my neglect.
I confess I didn't clean his tank for over a month and as a result a terrible layer of algae took over the walls of the tank making it impossible for him to see out and us in.
I found the original plastic piece and fit it back on the lid to cover the feeding gap and in a rush to leave grabbed the closest thing available to cover the other opening to prevent another incident.
My husband found my choice hilarious and upon my return asked me if I'd noticed that I had provided Jerry with a parachute.