Strong Women and Men

Today when I got home I decided that I deserved a cookie.

Several cookies, maybe.

And then someone should make me dinner. Preferably that person would be Chef Mavro. And then more dessert.

Then a movie. Yes. I definitely deserved a movie. A funny one. In a large theater, no one sitting directly in front of or behind me, and no cell phones with bright screens across the theater to distract me.

All of those options were somewhat difficult to fulfill on a Tuesday night, so I compromised. I got an Acai bowl with granola (which is basically several cookies broken up into pieces), drove into Haleiwa for Storto’s sandwiches, and rented a movie from Redbox. Possibly a malassada will be included before the night is through.

Being pregnant with this baby has taught me I am a completely worthless human being and I am not built for any sort of hardship. The girl gets up at 6am and I decide she’s out to get me. I get 50 phone calls that I have to answer to and I put on my annoyed face. I catch a glimpse of my legs in the mirror and I think, “Yikes. I need to eat something to console myself.” One student says Shakespeare was and is in two senses of the word, “gay” and I have to talk myself out of throttling her. I get home after my 8-3 job and plop down on the couch in exhaustion.

I could never be a Pioneer. A commoner during Elizabethan times. A child in Afghanistan. A working class citizen in Greece. A fisherman on the bayou.

I probably couldn't even be you.

Or live anywhere other than Hawaii. Did I mention there was a draft yesterday afternoon? Hello. My name is Wuss.

In Your Dreams

As I tucked her into bed tonight, Amaya said,

“I want your baby’s name to be ‘Peanut.’ And his last name will be ‘Pickle.’”

Talking Bubbles

I’ve been stuttering a lot lately. And that word is always evading me. I’ve resorted to the evil eye stare rather than my usual comeback quip with the class clowns.
Amaya’s in an “I need less sleep than you” contest with me, and I think she’s winning. She woke up at 2am the night before last and told me she needed to go #2. And she did need to. And this is when I wished she was ten and could wipe her own butt and I could trust her to wipe her own butt.
Basically any hour I wake up after midnight is sure to result in

paranoid thoughts that someone is walking around in the living room

getting up to check if someone is walking in the living room

needing to pee

needing to drink water to replace the pee

eating something to go with the water

and general tossing and turning (but quietly, so Jake doesn’t wake up)

And when Amaya wakes up after her 8 hour nap to announce the morning I want to throw away all the responsibility that is forcing me out of bed.

So I’m wishing that jobs, blogs, toddlers, appetites, taxes, dishes, committees, and bladders would just tiptoe around the house for a little longer and

let.

me.

sleep.

in.

3

3 is a magic number.

3 can go out to dinner pretty easily. Everyone can feed him or herself.

3 can look at books in her room.

3 can all go to Green Valley for a spontaneous middle of the day hike.

3 can hide in the bathroom and cut off her own hair.

3 falls asleep on her own, at night (although 3 only sleeps 8 hours a night with no naps and 29 has a hard time with that).

3 makes tag team parenting so easy.

In July I’ll see what 4 is like.

I’m a little scared.

First Class Jack…. (son)

The whole time we were watching the latest episode of Modern Family I was cringing. It was all about the unfulfilled birthday expectations.

I’m a jerk! I KNOW! I’ve pondered it for over 22 minutes already!!! STOP HASSLING ME!!!!!

Luckily I don’t think this is the thing that will lead to our divorce. He’s not totally hung up on presents. Jake has a lot of qualities that I didn’t know were quite so important until after I married him. Marriage-saving qualities… Like:

1. He really does know how to do the laundry. Because I don’t.

2. He keeps dogs away when they want to jump up in my face. Since we hike a lot and everyone in Hawaii owns pit bulls, Dobermans, or Pitmans, this has come in pretty handy for not getting my face eaten off. This is also handy when we run into very scary mokes in Chinatown. Or when I consider the possibility of an apocalyptic society. Not too many guys I’ve met can reach that standard.

3. He can stay awake while driving. Because I can’t.

4. He doesn’t hassle me too much about spending money because he never checks the credit card bills or the bank statements.

5. He believes in eating well, and he totally gets my tastes in food and restaurants. I would die if I had a taste-bud-less husband.

6. He’s probably the only thing keeping my brain above a 9th grade level of thinking. He reads actual literature, seeks out new and interesting music, only watches movies that could be called “films”, and discusses art with me. Otherwise I would probably atrophy into a YA fiction, radio junk, chick flick waste of a person. But we can still watch Modern Family, because it’s hilarious.

He married me. That certainly ranks up there with “things I didn’t know mattered until I was married.” Who else would have done that?