Sunday Scribblings – Absurd

standard June 15, 2009 3 responses

Between pregnancy, pumping, pregnancy, nursing and pumping, and dealing with two little kids I hadn’t had a chance to go bra shopping in an absurdly long time. I was making do with old bras, too small bras, too big bras, or just plain ugly bras.

These last couple months I made do with two bras that kinda worked. That is, until Little L took one of them, tried it on, left the room, and instantly made it vanish. With just one functioning bra left I had to bite the bullet and go bra shopping.

I went a little crazy and along with two basic cream colored mommy bras I also bought a black lacy affair.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not exactly a scandalous bra. It’s like the ones I always get, except that it’s black and it has a tiny bit of lace trim, and oh, did I mention it’s black?

So, anyway, the day after I went shopping I decided to wear said black bra. I slipped it on and Little L’s jaw dropped. I snapped the snaps and she gave me a look. A look that said “My mommy, she likes to make jokes. She likes to test me. Is this a joke? Is this a test?” She looked me up and down and decided that I was pulling her leg.

“Nooo, nooo.” She shook her head and made the same noises that she makes when she’s telling me she’s caught me out on yet another joke. She looked around the room and spotted my usual mommy bra. She grabbed it and handed it to me. “Weah dis.” She said nodding furiously.

Cows moo, they don’t bark.
Babies are babies, not kitty cats.
And obviously mommies wear nice boring cream bras, not black lacy affairs. Anything else is just absurd.

This post was inspired by the Sunday Scribblings prompt “absurd.” Click through to see other great entries.

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Sunday Scribblings – Scary

standard April 13, 2009 11 responses

He places the cardboard box on the table and even before he opens the flap or says anything my heart drops like a stone and threatens to stop. My mouth falls open and I freeze. I can’t tear my eyes away.

There has been no warning, but there’s no doubt in my mind. There are birds in that box. He’s going to open it. I just know it.

I was right. He opens the box and at the first hint of a fluttering wing I’m unfrozen and instantly turned away from the scene, my arms protectively curled around my face.

Breathe. My mind whispers. Breathe. You’re OK. It’s just a TV show. There are no birds in this room. They’re on the other side of the screen. Breathe.

I know it’s just a TV show. My rational brain knows there are no birds in here, and, after a tense moment, I actually manage to convince myself that it’s OK to open my eyes. It’s safe. No wings will flutter near my face, no tiny boned feathered bodies will hurl themselves at me today. But it takes a while for my heart to stop hammering and for my breathing to return to normal.

I do not like birds. OK. Clearly that’s an understatement. I loathe and fear birds. I’ve always shunned any winged animal – they’re the only thing in the world that can make me completely lose my composure and my right mind.

When I lived in Paris, I was hard pressed to avoid the million pigeons that littered every street corner and rooftop in the city. My friends knew better than to question my erratic way of walking down the street – first one sidewalk then switch to the other at the first sign of a cluster of pigeons and then back again at the next sign of trouble.

Here in the Silicon Valley suburbs pigeons are few and far between and just a few loud expletives are enough to scare off the odd swallow or scrub-jay that cross my path. The crows are harder to scare so we have a tacit agreement, they don’t flap their wings near me and I pretend they aren’t loitering on my front lawn. It’s not ideal, but it works. In fact, I thought I was safe. Who could have guessed the hateful things were lying in wait inside my beloved TV?

This post was written in response to the Sunday Scribblings prompt Scary. Click through to read other fantastic entries.

Sunday Scribblings – Celebrating Banality

standard April 6, 2009 8 responses

“What do you want to do?”
“I dunno, what do you want to do?”

We have that conversation all the time, last night was definitely not a first. It wasn’t even the first time we were having the conversation with a sitter standing there waiting for us to leave. We never really know where we’re going to go on date night. Our dates are less about the destination than the journey. The journey out of the house.

We made a snap decision, grabbed our coats, kissed the girls and headed out. Then, on our way to the car we realized we could go to Home Depot before heading out to dinner. Which is how we ended up wandering the power tool aisle on our first date night in weeks.

We debated the merits of the different sand paper options, chose the cheapest plumber’s snake we could find, and gaped at the prices of the cordless mowers. We kidded around as we hunted down a sales person and relaxed as me meandered up and down the daunting aisles.

By the time we left with our sand paper, weed killer, and plumber’s snake all the little squabbles and stresses that had come between us during the week had melted away and we were completely in sync again. As we got into the car I wanted to close my eyes and stop time to savor the perfectly banal and wonderful moment. Instead I sent out a quick tweet to my followers on Twitter.

Best date ever. went to Home Depot and bought a plumber’s snake and now going out for burgers. Love my husband.”

My husband is my best friend and my favorite moments with him are the simple, mundane ones. Lunch of the patio with the girls, a walk around the block, a shared moment at the mall. Sure, I won’t turn down a fancy dinner or a romantic dinner away, but for the most part give me a burger and a trip to the hardware store and I’m happy.

This post was inspired by the Sunday Scribblings prompt Celebrate. Head on over to read other great posts!

I knew instantly…

standard December 15, 2008 7 responses

The words rose to my lips and I fought them back. What was I thinking? You don’t tell someone you’ve known for less than 10 hours that you love them. Who does that? Desperate crazy girls do that, that’s who, and I was most definitely neither crazy nor desperate.

In fact, what was I doing even thinking those words?! This was supposed to be my big one night stand come back. Well not come back, since there was nothing to really come back from. It was more my big one night stand start! I was done, done, done with relationships! No more of that nonsense. After a long painful five year+ nightmare and a confusing 1 year thing*, I was ready to live it up and enjoy my twenties.

It was going to be awesome. I had in mind one long stretch of parties and guys. Fun without remorse, lots of experience, lots of nuttiness, lots of living. There was most definitely not supposed to be any tomorrows, “call me!”s, worry, angst, or any of the other things that my previous relationships had entailed.

So what was I doing even thinking those words in regards to the young man lying in bed besides me? I was supposed to get up in the morning and leave without a backwards glance. And yet, as I drifted off to sleep*, the urge to murmur “I love you.” as if it was something I did every night and couldn’t sleep well without doing.

In my soul I just knew instantly that there would be no goodbyes, just a long series of hellos and an even longer longer series of nights that end in a tender murmured “I love you.” Over eight years later I still turn to that same boy sleeping besides me every night and murmur those very words before I drift off to sleep. My day just isn’t complete without that moment.

*If we’d been married we would have called it an affair, only we weren’t married, or even in other relationships. It happened behind closed doors and his friends and family never knew about me. It was a weird thing. There’s just no other word.

This post was inspired by the Sunday Scribblings prompt “I knew instantly…” Please click here to read other wonderful entries.

Original It’s my life… post.