Thursday, October 12, 2006

In pitch dark I go walking in your landscape...Just cos you feel it doesn't mean it's there... - "There There," Radiohead

I finally – FINALLY – mailed the dear Suse’s package today, the goodies packed carefully into a sturdy Jockey For Her box and securely wrapped in strappy packing tape. I felt so urbane and international, knowing which customs form to fill out and writing the funky address on the box. (And hey, I only ate and then had to replace her Five Star bars once. Ok, twice. But only the hazelnut one.)
A woman in line next to me was fascinated by the fact that I was mailing something to Australia – how exotic! She peppered me with questions: “Is she your sister?” [No. Don’t I wish.] “Wow, you must love her a lot.” [Actually, I do.] “When is she coming back?” [She’s Australian, she lives there, kind of permanently.] “Has it been long since you’ve seen her?” [Forever. Literally. I just couldn’t get into the whole we-met-on-the-Internet thing. People look at you like you are a FREAK. And perhaps I am but gosh, I love Suse, so I don’t care. I love you, Suse!]
I mailed it surface again, but hopefully it won’t get hung up in customs this time. The post office estimated 4 weeks for delivery – God and the customs officers willing.

It’s been a crazy morning. It didn’t help that last night at ten I decided that I needed to get the hell out of my house, because I’d been cooped up with my children all day, them whining because it was raining and they could not go outside (it was a cold, hard rain) and me just being nutso (must look into upping my Zoloft dose now that winter is coming. Or today is Thursday. Or the sky is blue. Whatever.) So I wandered up to a neighborhood bar and had two Yuenglings and an order of buffalo bites, and read When Madeline Was Young, which is a bit scattered as far as where the story is going, but again, I am loving the characters Hamilton has created and develops throughout the book. So I had an hour or so to get my head together again, but then I got home and Terzo started crying and we are finally – I am finally- succumbing to the whole crying-it-out process because if he doesn’t start sleeping thru the night soon I am going to DIE of exhaustion. (Don’t hate me. Don‘t flame me. I am truly sorry. But he must learn to sleep. Now. Because, have I mentioned, I am going to DIE?)
And this morning it was cold and grey and I felt as if I had not slept at all.
Also this morning – I have been busier than - a three-legged horse in a glue factory? A tail-less horse during fly season? A rat in a junkyard? What the hell is that expression? (All Google came up with was ‘A one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest’ and that is NOT right.) Anyway, I have been crazed this morning.

After dropping Primo at school, I worked out a plan with another mom to help out my next-door neighbor who has still not given birth to her sixth child (she’s a week overdue, and clearly insane anyway). Also, I was scheduled to help out in the school library at Paxson this morning. I showed up a wee bit early, helped label new books, and shelved a cart. I was feeling all competent and together and whatnot. And then I saw Mrs P, Primo’s kindy teacher, in the hall on the way out of school, and she said to me, “Did Simon bring in his snack today?” and I remembered – despite the giant red letters on the calendar, and the Post-It note reminder on the desk, I had forgotten – that it was MY day to bring in the kindy kids’ afternoon snack.
So much for competent and together.
Fortunately I had to go to the grocery store anyway – to replace Suse’s chocolate bars – shut up! - and I got pretzels and raisins, and other stuff we needed at home (Milk. My children drink So. Much. Milk. I may just buy a cow. It might be cheaper.) and after steering around every single old lady in this city who all decided to go grocery shopping at the same exact time and obstruct my headlong progress through the aisles, I made it back to the school and dropped off the snack (and a bag of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies for the teacher, because the woman looked like she could use some chocolate and it was only ten in the morning) and repacked Suse’s package – SHUT. UP. - and went to the post office and then went home and finished constructing the giant vat o’ veg soup I am leaving for my boys to eat for dinner tonight. And now I am sitting in the coffee shop, drinking copious amounts of tea and writing drivel and kibbitzing with W about when it will be acceptable to our offspring to just drop them at morning assembly and not have to hang out to wave to them as they walk to their classroom after.
And now I have to go pick up Primo and drop him home and go to work till ten tonight.

Precisely when, do you suppose, could I fit an extra hour in there somewhere to start running again? Because the weather is perfect running weather, and I appreciate nothing quite like I appreciate running in the snow, and you know, snow season is fast approaching.

And now the dear sweet coffee shop dude is playing Radiohead for me.



Sarah Louise said...

ugh, October. Today Ellen's monologue was about SAD.

Badger said...

I will never understand you runner types. After a day like that, you feel you need MORE EXERCISE? Jesus. I need a nap just reading about it.

Peg said...

Um, did Blackbird know you were wooing her PILL in such a fashion? Cause if she didn't, well, she does now...

Anonymous said...


and walking is better for the knees, but I do admire you for your enthusiasm.

I have to say I'm not fond of the "pop-up" comments--I like being able to click on "read original post" as I'm commenting. But that's just me, being crotchety.

Don't you love the sweet coffee shop dudes?

I probably would have had similar chocolate restocking issues too.

(SL, having signing in issues)

Anonymous said...

I'm jealous of the Yeungling. Mmmmmmmmm.

BabelBabe said...

OK, so I am being a tad indiscreet about Suse, but I was just so excited that I FINALLY got the damn package in the mail. With chocolate intact.

Blackbird *knows* she has nothing to worry about.

I love Suse in a *sisterly* way.

Suse said...

Oh but good golly gosh, I love you too BB, in a big sisterly way you know.

(SL - PILL = Platonic Internet Lesbian Lover. See archives).

Suse said...

PS. I am the big sister, you are the tall one.

lazy cow said...

Hey, sitting in a bar (even if it is at ten at night) reading = dedicated reading time. You gotta get it where you can :-)
I vote that the horse drawn milk delivery van makes a comeback (did you have that in the US?). I remember it fondly from my childhood. Because we go through a massive amount of milk here too and I hate getting to 5pm and realing THERE IS NO SODDING MILK.
And you can leave your kids at the school gate the moment they are happy to see the back of you ;-)
Am not even going to touch the Suse thing. Sniff.

Bec said...

Suse is eminently lovable, possibly even more so in person (and I have the photo on my blog to prove it!)

As for milk, you could get a cow, but then you'd need a calf, too, and then there's hay, and bran, and a barn of some kind, plus OHMYGOD the MILKING. Suck it up. Buy the milk.

(Grew up with a house cow, feel very qualified on this one)

(ps good for you to get out and read a book. I may just try that next time my sanity threatens loved ones)

Bec said...

(pps - no flaming from here for crying-to-sleep; some kids are born knowing how to put themselves to sleep, most have to learn. Good luck with it!)

Amy said...

Oh i love how you write - I love the interjections about the cookies, you're so like me in that regard (or I'm so like you or whatever - SHUT UP!)

I'm glad you went out for an hour to recoop just a bit, and letting him cry until he figures out the sleep thing is NOT a horrible thing. He's safe, he's warm, he's fed, he just needs to adjust this habit and you'll all be happier. I used to sit in the dark in the corner of LM's room where he couldn't see me and cry with him. He stopped after a short while and he has been the best sleeper ever since.

I love that you took snacks for the teacher, too. How thoughtful of you.

blackbird said...

clearly I CANNOT trust bloglines.
I didn't see what was going on here till this morning...
but maybe it's better that way as I see we are all playing nicely.
Suse knows where her heart is - and now I'm all butch looking with my new hair.
Meanwhile, I HAVE NOT been so kind as to ship goodies across the sea, so.

BabelBabe said...

oh my, I love you all the same amount, just in different ways (just like my kids, ahem). (It's just that Terzo is the only one I want to run away to Tahiti with...)

We switched to the pop-up comments so you can SEE the original post while commenting.

I want new hair - preferably curlier and maybe a little redder? Cool.

Joke said...

"Busier than a one-armed paperhanger."

I think that's the only clean one I can recall.

-One Who Knows

P.S. We go through 4 gallons/17 liters of milk a week.

Anonymous said...

That's why they have that link "see original post" at the top of comments. I prefer it, but to each their own.

I go through a half gallon of milk/week. But I'm just one person who is hardly ever home.

SL, again having signing in issues.

MsCellania said...

Milk? Not so much in here.

International Postings? Mailed mine off to daysgoby yesterday. The chilluns had packed/repacked it a dozen times. Who knows what was actually IN it when I finally said STOP IT and sealed it. And YES! It felt like I'd accomplished something. Had been 'working on it' since JULY.

I am too tired to go out at 10. And running?! What in the heck for?

Kathy said...

I like the pop-up comments because I can move the comment box over and see the post and the comments while I'm commenting.

That was so wonderful of the coffe shop dude.

BabelBabe said...

what katya said. and since it's mine and gina's blog, any further "suggestions" will be ignored.

I LIKE to run. I really do get that endorphin high. plus, it's QUIET in my head when i run. not that i'm Sybil or naything, I am just being driven bananas by my very loud children.

the coffee shop people really seem to grok what music i am yearning for on any given day; it's downright eerie sometimes.

Anonymous said...

Busy, busy Babelbabe. I'm proud of you for trying to fit your running in, too.

Paula said...

Wow. I don't turn the computer on for a few days and I miss all kinds of things!