Out of the habit
Yeah, well, OK, it's been awhile. We went to Virginia in July, and being that it was a holiday, with family, out of state, Bella ended up with 6 stitches in her chin. She tripped over Vincent's feet at the pool and didn't put her hands out because, well, she's just that kind of kid. I've found that the velcro papoose thing has sort of lost it's luster for all of us, and she was a champ, as were we. Yawn.
On a brighter note, I had a blind date of sorts. At Busch Gardens, I ditched the family to fly solo on Alpengeist, and ended up on line with the lovely Brian (Cute? Check.), who had ditched his family because they are also a bunch of woosies. Loves rollercoasters enough to ride solo? Check. Forty-five minutes in line with a guy I didn't know felt like an arranged marriage - he was from Tennessee, met the love of his life, married her after two months and moved to Maryland to start a new life. Romantic? Check. He had been a DJ in Tennessee and was headed off to see Nine-Inch Nails the following weekend. Likes music? Check.
I think if I were single I would have slept with him. It's been awhile since I found someone that I would consider dating, and it felt sort of like a betrayal even though I had done nothing wrong. I made a point to brag to Riley that Mommy had made a new friend, and that you're never to old to do so, and wasn't that nice honey? But at the same time, yuck.
Then, the week I got home, my friend's husband (that Vincent has never met) was here borrowing a movie when Vincent came home. The husband had joked to his wife that I was "cute" and "intriguing" and I had shared that with Vincent. Hey, I am intriguing! And cute!! But I found myself flustered and stuttering like I was caught with my pants down instead of with a pirated version of Madagascar in my hands. What the fuck? Is this Catholic guilt? Maybe we should start going to church again...
In other news, uh, nothing. I drive the kids to camp (I had signed them up to get them out of the house for the addition. Remember that? Yeah.), then home, then to the pool, then home, then I make dinner. Then I pretend to be very busy so that Vincent will clear the dishes, but that doesn't usually work and I wake up to them the next morning.
Once, we went to Sesame Place.
Once, I took a shower in the afternoon instead of in the morning.
Oh, and I had my annual gynocological exam, and my doctor resumed sticking her finger in my ass after a five year hiatus. Riley asked me what the doctor had done when I got home, and I almost told him that Mommy's anus got lucky but the sitter was still here, so I restrained myself, thankfully.
I wonder what Brian's doing now. Listening to music? Riding coasters in Coney Island? Buying Coldplay tickets? Watching Murderball?
Surely he's not helping his daughter master the art of walking, or giving another a pedicure, or teaching his son to jump rope.
My life. Our life.
The same, the same, the same, and then the kids are grown and I can ride the big rollercoasters again. And I think I have nothing to write about now?
On a brighter note, I had a blind date of sorts. At Busch Gardens, I ditched the family to fly solo on Alpengeist, and ended up on line with the lovely Brian (Cute? Check.), who had ditched his family because they are also a bunch of woosies. Loves rollercoasters enough to ride solo? Check. Forty-five minutes in line with a guy I didn't know felt like an arranged marriage - he was from Tennessee, met the love of his life, married her after two months and moved to Maryland to start a new life. Romantic? Check. He had been a DJ in Tennessee and was headed off to see Nine-Inch Nails the following weekend. Likes music? Check.
I think if I were single I would have slept with him. It's been awhile since I found someone that I would consider dating, and it felt sort of like a betrayal even though I had done nothing wrong. I made a point to brag to Riley that Mommy had made a new friend, and that you're never to old to do so, and wasn't that nice honey? But at the same time, yuck.
Then, the week I got home, my friend's husband (that Vincent has never met) was here borrowing a movie when Vincent came home. The husband had joked to his wife that I was "cute" and "intriguing" and I had shared that with Vincent. Hey, I am intriguing! And cute!! But I found myself flustered and stuttering like I was caught with my pants down instead of with a pirated version of Madagascar in my hands. What the fuck? Is this Catholic guilt? Maybe we should start going to church again...
In other news, uh, nothing. I drive the kids to camp (I had signed them up to get them out of the house for the addition. Remember that? Yeah.), then home, then to the pool, then home, then I make dinner. Then I pretend to be very busy so that Vincent will clear the dishes, but that doesn't usually work and I wake up to them the next morning.
Once, we went to Sesame Place.
Once, I took a shower in the afternoon instead of in the morning.
Oh, and I had my annual gynocological exam, and my doctor resumed sticking her finger in my ass after a five year hiatus. Riley asked me what the doctor had done when I got home, and I almost told him that Mommy's anus got lucky but the sitter was still here, so I restrained myself, thankfully.
I wonder what Brian's doing now. Listening to music? Riding coasters in Coney Island? Buying Coldplay tickets? Watching Murderball?
Surely he's not helping his daughter master the art of walking, or giving another a pedicure, or teaching his son to jump rope.
My life. Our life.
The same, the same, the same, and then the kids are grown and I can ride the big rollercoasters again. And I think I have nothing to write about now?
posted by Stolidoli at 3:53 PM
3 Comments:
Oh, I've missed you- glad you are back. And you may think your life is boring but the way you write about it cracks me up.
Re: Brian- sounds like a fun, innocent fantasy date. I think all harried mommies need more of those to remind ourselves that we're still sexy and cool.
Oh my god, the butt exam! A good friend of mine had an OBGYN that used to give her the butt exam. For a long time I really thought she'd made it up or that her gyno was a perv. I think my other friends and I gave her enough shit about it (no pun intended) that she eventually stopped going to him. Turns out the poor guy was just doing his job!
Glad you're back!
Well, I'm glad YOU guys are still here!
My uterus is allegedly tipped, which is why I get the proctology treatment. It's supposed to help them feel around my ovaries, but I thought that 3 pregnancies must have cured that because I haven't had it done in a while.
Kelli - maybe your friend's new OB did the same thing, and she was so freaked out that she didn't tell you guys?? Like, "Why is everyone so obsessed with my ass??"
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