So I keep trying to take Llama to church. Mostly because I like church, it used to help me find peace and meaning in my life. Taking Llama mostly helps me find anger and embarrassment, but I keep trying.
Today, Father B was praying over the Eucharist, and Llama apparently thought it should be her turn to speak. "Make him stop talking now, okay?"
At least my mother-in-law says that Llama isn't as difficult in church as her father was. Llama looked cute, anyway. And on the way there, she was joyful about getting to go to church. She seems to like it, even if she doesn't quite get the whole "sitting quietly" concept.
Now for the song. Llama was singing to me this morning because she was awake and I was mostly not awake, but we were snuggled in bed together since we're on our own right now. (Bucket's away for work.) "Rock a bye baby, little baby, little baby. You are so cute. I will rock you and rock you and rock you... all fall DOWN!"
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Tidbits from Llama
Llama is all about writing her name lately. She can't write it herself, she wants me to do it.
Llama: Write my name. (Hands me paper and a crayon.)
Me: (Carefully block printing each letter and saying them each out loud.)
Llama: Where is the Q?
Me: There is no Q in Llama.
Llama: Put a Q in it.
Me: Only bad parents put Qs where they don't belong.
Llama: (Walking down the front stairs in the morning) I'm Biggie Talls!
Me: Do you even know who Biggie Smalls was?
Llama: It's me!
(Singing in the back seat) "Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle star. Star star star star star. Up sky, up sky, up sky. Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle staaaaaaaaaaaaaaar!"
Edited because I almost forgot this one:
Bucket fixed one of the cars today and took it for a drive. Llama asked me 58 times where he went, and the first 57 times I answered her, I said, "He took the blue car for a ride to see if it's working." On number 58, I said, "He went to join the circus, he'll be back in a little bit." Upon his return, she said, "Hey, Dad! How was the circus?" He was mystified. I was more than a little amused.
Llama: Write my name. (Hands me paper and a crayon.)
Me: (Carefully block printing each letter and saying them each out loud.)
Llama: Where is the Q?
Me: There is no Q in Llama.
Llama: Put a Q in it.
Me: Only bad parents put Qs where they don't belong.
Llama: (Walking down the front stairs in the morning) I'm Biggie Talls!
Me: Do you even know who Biggie Smalls was?
Llama: It's me!
(Singing in the back seat) "Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle star. Star star star star star. Up sky, up sky, up sky. Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle staaaaaaaaaaaaaaar!"
Edited because I almost forgot this one:
Bucket fixed one of the cars today and took it for a drive. Llama asked me 58 times where he went, and the first 57 times I answered her, I said, "He took the blue car for a ride to see if it's working." On number 58, I said, "He went to join the circus, he'll be back in a little bit." Upon his return, she said, "Hey, Dad! How was the circus?" He was mystified. I was more than a little amused.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
"Only say the word and I shall be killed."
There are two stories intertwined in this one post. I'll try to keep it from being confusing.
We're Catholic, I might or might not have said that at some point before. Llama and I have just started going back to church since I finally feel like I can sit through a Mass without crying and making a fool of myself. This was our second week back, and Llama was in rare form. She has allergies or a cold (I can't tell yet), she was out too late last night and up too early this morning, and church is generally difficult for a 2 year old. So she was in full Llama effect.
At one point, she threw her cup toward the back of the church. I didn't see where it went, and I'm pretty sure a very nice man either caught it or was hit with it. (He returned it to me, but I'll get to that.) I whispered, "That was a bad choice, now you have no juice." That was perhaps a bad choice on MY part, because in her anger at being juice-less, Llama ripped off her plastic necklace that she had chosen to wear and threw that too.
At that point, I was remembering how Aunt Dots used to think that when we say, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you; but only say the word and I shall be healed," that we were saying, "...only say the word and I shall be killed." The fact that she continued to attend church and receive communion, believing all the while that she might at some point be killed as she approached the altar... well, faith is a strong and incredible thing, I'll just say that.
I was very embarrassed by Llama's tantrum and throwing of possessions, and I was wishing that God might see fit to kill one of us, and I was hoping it would be me. However, the necklace and juice cup were returned to me, and I apologized and thanked the poor targets. I hid Llama's stuff from her so that she would have no further throwing opportunities.
Mass progressed without incident until we were all offering each other peace, shaking hands and exchanging nice words. Llama took the opportunity to say, loudly, "WHERE MY JUICE CUP GO!?" How peaceful.
Neither of us were killed approaching the altar. Clearly Llama is feeling more peaceful, because she fell asleep in the car and I couldn't even wake her up for lunch. I know she's still alive because she's snoring.
We're Catholic, I might or might not have said that at some point before. Llama and I have just started going back to church since I finally feel like I can sit through a Mass without crying and making a fool of myself. This was our second week back, and Llama was in rare form. She has allergies or a cold (I can't tell yet), she was out too late last night and up too early this morning, and church is generally difficult for a 2 year old. So she was in full Llama effect.
At one point, she threw her cup toward the back of the church. I didn't see where it went, and I'm pretty sure a very nice man either caught it or was hit with it. (He returned it to me, but I'll get to that.) I whispered, "That was a bad choice, now you have no juice." That was perhaps a bad choice on MY part, because in her anger at being juice-less, Llama ripped off her plastic necklace that she had chosen to wear and threw that too.
At that point, I was remembering how Aunt Dots used to think that when we say, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you; but only say the word and I shall be healed," that we were saying, "...only say the word and I shall be killed." The fact that she continued to attend church and receive communion, believing all the while that she might at some point be killed as she approached the altar... well, faith is a strong and incredible thing, I'll just say that.
I was very embarrassed by Llama's tantrum and throwing of possessions, and I was wishing that God might see fit to kill one of us, and I was hoping it would be me. However, the necklace and juice cup were returned to me, and I apologized and thanked the poor targets. I hid Llama's stuff from her so that she would have no further throwing opportunities.
Mass progressed without incident until we were all offering each other peace, shaking hands and exchanging nice words. Llama took the opportunity to say, loudly, "WHERE MY JUICE CUP GO!?" How peaceful.
Neither of us were killed approaching the altar. Clearly Llama is feeling more peaceful, because she fell asleep in the car and I couldn't even wake her up for lunch. I know she's still alive because she's snoring.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Oh, the places we've been...
Well, welcome back to myself (again). I seem to have this nasty habit of living life and getting so involved in it that I forget to blog about it. And really, this is supposed to be the scrapbook/journal for Llama. However, as often happens, I currently have something to talk about that isn't open for discussion with a two-year-old, no matter how smart she may be. (And she is pretty smart, but that's for another day.) So, things we've seen or done this summer:
1. Bucket wrecked his car. He was and is fine. We bought a new car yesterday. It's a 2010 Chevy Equinox and it's silver. It's very fancy. My 2005 Subaru Legacy was the first brand new car I'd ever driven, and now this is the second. Bucket is a very special kind of guy, and so I get the "new hotness," and he gets "old and busted." The Subaru isn't old and busted in any capacity, but it does get much better gas mileage. And it's small and fast, which are desirable characteristics on the highway and not so much in the pre-school dropoff line.
2. Llama has TWO new cousins. They don't have secret blog names yet. The lucky parents are The Army Guy and Frenchy (a little girl born June 11) and Hawaiian Punch and iHusband (a little boy born August 4). I'm jealous.
3. This is the reason I'm jealous, and also the thing I most need to write about. I had a miscarriage. It was the third miscarriage. I had one before Llama, one when she was nine months old, and one in July. It's kind of the reason I dropped off the map (this time). I still just don't know what to say, other than I know with every part of me that I am a good mom, a deserving mom, and I will eventually understand the reason why I can't seem to do "pregnant" well. I finally went back to church today. I hadn't been all summer - first because I was pregnant and sick, and then because I was just so sad and angry, and there was a healthy dose of guilt in there. The guilt was and is unfounded, but that doesn't make it go away.
I have so much else to say, but apparently, I'm still not able to put it into real words. I'm not sure if that's because it's so hard for me to understand, or because I'm worried that putting this information out there will upset the people who read this who I love so very much, or what the reason might be. It's hard to even distinguish in my mind. I don't begrudge my sisters-in-law their gorgeous babies. I don't want to replace my Llama's baby times with new baby times.
In fact, I wasn't even a good baby mama. I like sleeping and drinking alcohol and not wearing pads in my bra and not feeling like a slave to a little tiny thing. At one point during Llama's very tiny times, I was sitting there in the middle of the night, looking at her nursing, and she popped off and looked at me with her giant blue eyes... and I thought, "You were sent here to destroy me." And then I woke Bucket and made him take the baby, because I was clearly too tired and stressed to be in charge anymore. I'm adding that story to illustrate how very much I was not a glowing, happy, lovely new mom.
I'm much better with a two-year-old. But I want her to have siblings with whom she can share all of the crazy. My brothers and I have shared experiences that have defined us and our relationships, and there is nobody who understands where you came from like someone who also came from that place. I'm not planning to be crazy or to introduce crazy or to even let Llama know what crazy is all about, except that THAT makes me crazy. Does that even make sense? Even "normal" families are crazy. Everyone has crazy and some people hide it better... but I want Llama to have someone to call and say, "What. the. fuck. is. Mom. talking. about!?!?!" and that person will be able to answer. Or not, and they'll commiserate about how batshit insane I am.
But I also want another child because I'm meant to have more than one child. I hope. I think. I mean, I don't know for sure or anything, but I just don't see my car as only ever having one baby seat in it. We have a lot of love and a lot of crazy. We can and should share it with another person.
I'm all over the map tonight. To recap: Bucket's car is gone and we have a new car. We have a new niece and a new nephew. Llama is an only child for now and I don't want it to stay that way, but it's not up to me and that's sad.
Fin.
PS: I say this all the time, but I have big plans for more posting. Ha.
1. Bucket wrecked his car. He was and is fine. We bought a new car yesterday. It's a 2010 Chevy Equinox and it's silver. It's very fancy. My 2005 Subaru Legacy was the first brand new car I'd ever driven, and now this is the second. Bucket is a very special kind of guy, and so I get the "new hotness," and he gets "old and busted." The Subaru isn't old and busted in any capacity, but it does get much better gas mileage. And it's small and fast, which are desirable characteristics on the highway and not so much in the pre-school dropoff line.
2. Llama has TWO new cousins. They don't have secret blog names yet. The lucky parents are The Army Guy and Frenchy (a little girl born June 11) and Hawaiian Punch and iHusband (a little boy born August 4). I'm jealous.
3. This is the reason I'm jealous, and also the thing I most need to write about. I had a miscarriage. It was the third miscarriage. I had one before Llama, one when she was nine months old, and one in July. It's kind of the reason I dropped off the map (this time). I still just don't know what to say, other than I know with every part of me that I am a good mom, a deserving mom, and I will eventually understand the reason why I can't seem to do "pregnant" well. I finally went back to church today. I hadn't been all summer - first because I was pregnant and sick, and then because I was just so sad and angry, and there was a healthy dose of guilt in there. The guilt was and is unfounded, but that doesn't make it go away.
I have so much else to say, but apparently, I'm still not able to put it into real words. I'm not sure if that's because it's so hard for me to understand, or because I'm worried that putting this information out there will upset the people who read this who I love so very much, or what the reason might be. It's hard to even distinguish in my mind. I don't begrudge my sisters-in-law their gorgeous babies. I don't want to replace my Llama's baby times with new baby times.
In fact, I wasn't even a good baby mama. I like sleeping and drinking alcohol and not wearing pads in my bra and not feeling like a slave to a little tiny thing. At one point during Llama's very tiny times, I was sitting there in the middle of the night, looking at her nursing, and she popped off and looked at me with her giant blue eyes... and I thought, "You were sent here to destroy me." And then I woke Bucket and made him take the baby, because I was clearly too tired and stressed to be in charge anymore. I'm adding that story to illustrate how very much I was not a glowing, happy, lovely new mom.
I'm much better with a two-year-old. But I want her to have siblings with whom she can share all of the crazy. My brothers and I have shared experiences that have defined us and our relationships, and there is nobody who understands where you came from like someone who also came from that place. I'm not planning to be crazy or to introduce crazy or to even let Llama know what crazy is all about, except that THAT makes me crazy. Does that even make sense? Even "normal" families are crazy. Everyone has crazy and some people hide it better... but I want Llama to have someone to call and say, "What. the. fuck. is. Mom. talking. about!?!?!" and that person will be able to answer. Or not, and they'll commiserate about how batshit insane I am.
But I also want another child because I'm meant to have more than one child. I hope. I think. I mean, I don't know for sure or anything, but I just don't see my car as only ever having one baby seat in it. We have a lot of love and a lot of crazy. We can and should share it with another person.
I'm all over the map tonight. To recap: Bucket's car is gone and we have a new car. We have a new niece and a new nephew. Llama is an only child for now and I don't want it to stay that way, but it's not up to me and that's sad.
Fin.
PS: I say this all the time, but I have big plans for more posting. Ha.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Title needed.
Today was a beautiful, sunny day, so my work friend and I decided to eat our lunches outside. We were sunning ourselves, having one of those roundabout conversations that starts nowhere and ends on something interesting and possibly important. I think it started with my statement that our school did a huge disservice by putting a parking lot on the riverfront property instead of something that would have a nice river view. So she told me a story about a kid who got drunk on our campus and fell in the river and drowned. (Cheerful, right?) So then I told her a story about a kid in a wheelchair who froze to death on another state school’s campus closer to where I’m from. And then it turned to our discussion of how neither of our undergraduate schools ever canceled school for snow. (I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.) And THEN it turned to a discussion of driving in the snow even when roads are closed. And then I said that a big part of why Bucket and I even have a relationship is because of a car accident I had. After the story of that, she said I should write a book. (See, I told you I was going somewhere.) The book would be my memoirs… my crazy childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood. But told through my skewed lens, and amusing. Not “A Child Called It,” and not even “Running with Scissors.” So now I need a title. The current front-runner is, “You Won’t Die… But You’d Be Surprised What You Can Live Through.” But that is still a little depressing, and it’s from “The Return of Jafar.” I don’t think Disney wants their words attached to my life story. Leave suggestions in the comments, and remember… funny!
So here’s the story I told her:
I didn’t get my drivers’ license until I was 18, because my mom didn’t want me on her car insurance. I failed my test twice, and the examiner passed me on the third try… probably because he was tired of seeing me exceed the speed limit on Buffalo Road and make illegal left turns. I spent the better part of one paycheck ($200) on a 1984 Oldsmobile Delta 88, and it was five colors. I didn’t exactly love it, but it was a set of wheels and that meant freedom.
So I drove that for a while, and then my mom’s boyfriend (we’ll call him Bob, because that’s his name, and I don’t protect the guilty) told me about a 1989 Ford Taurus that a guy was selling. I spent the better part of a FEW paychecks on that one ($1000, a princely sum in the year 2000 for a college student with a part-time job) and it was perfection. I love, love, loved that car. I drove it all over creation and it was reliable and it had a good radio.
Then I met Bucket. The car was not an issue because it worked perfectly. (Bucket is a fixer of cars in addition to his other many talents, if you didn’t know that.) I was on the way home from the mall one night, taking back roads because that’s what people where I’m from do. The Wolf Man and my youngest brother (did I ever give that guy a code name??) were in the car with me. A lady was tailgating me pretty heavily all the way, and at the second-to-last stop sign, she didn’t stop when I did. I was on the phone with Bucket at the time that I got rear-ended because we were going on a date as soon as I went home and put on my new clothes. I did not get to go on my date. The car was totaled. My heart was broken, but nothing else. We were all fine, lest you think otherwise, except for some minor bumps and bruises and soreness.
My mom didn’t want to help me rent a car (remember, I was 18 and you have to be 25 to rent a car) because… well, I don’t really know why. Probably because she had Bob the boyfriend and he was all about not being a nice guy. So that’s how Bucket and I got closer and closer – he would pick me up for a date, and then I could sleep over (just sleeping, you guys, I swear) and have a guaranteed ride to class the next morning. Or he could take me home and I wouldn’t be able to get to school. I’m ambitious and I always was, so I took that good deal and let Bucket take care of me.
When the insurance company gave me my check for the lovely Taurus ($1400, more than I’d paid!), Bob the boyfriend took it and came back with a silver 1985 Cadillac Sedan de Ville. It was interesting to drive, and I took it in to Bucket so he could investigate why it was so interesting. Plus, I was proud that I had wheels of my own again. Bucket poked around and said, “Heather, this car is stolen.” I disagreed with him, because… really, I’d given Bob $1400. Surely he wouldn’t have gotten me a stolen car, right?
Wrong. The back passenger window was plastic (not glass) and put in with bathtub silicone. The glove box was missing. And there was broken glass in the crevasses of the back seat. PLUS, the thing didn’t run right. He didn’t even get me a GOOD stolen car. Just my luck. But when I asked him for my money, or even some part of it, so that I could get a car honestly, he said, “It’s gone.” So I continued to drive the car and crossed my fingers every time I went somewhere that I wouldn’t get pulled over and arrested.
It eventually died… on the way to my Speech Communications final. I failed the final and the class, which was required for graduation, so I had to take it again. Without this interesting set of circumstances, though, I think Bucket and I would have gone on a few more dates and he would have graduated without us ever “making it official.” So thanks, lady who rear-ended me, and thanks, Bob.
Monday, May 17, 2010
A Conversation with Llama
Llama: Belly hurts, kiss it.
Me: (kisses belly) You're probably hungry, let's get some food.
Llama: Frettist. (That means breakfast.)
Me: What do you want to eat?
Llama: Cakeys.
Me: Try again.
Llama: Pop Tarts? (All hopefully - they are a major treat here.)
Me: Sure.
Llama: And a beer.
Me: (Laughing.) Not until college, kiddo.
Me: (kisses belly) You're probably hungry, let's get some food.
Llama: Frettist. (That means breakfast.)
Me: What do you want to eat?
Llama: Cakeys.
Me: Try again.
Llama: Pop Tarts? (All hopefully - they are a major treat here.)
Me: Sure.
Llama: And a beer.
Me: (Laughing.) Not until college, kiddo.
Friday, April 30, 2010
I realize that posting once a month is no way to keep readers interested.
And now that my hellish semester is over, I can change that and go back to a minimum of weekly postings.
Llama turned two, and she deserves an awesome post devoted only to her second birthday party, so that's coming.
Aunt Dots is graduating, and she ALSO deserves an awesome post devoted only to her graduation festivities.
Two gratuitous photos:
Llama has outgrown her car seat. See how her head is over the top and the strap slots are below her shoulders?
On April 22, which is Earth Day, I saw the Green Power Ranger on campus. My friend and I chased him down and took pictures with him. He asked for "a big thumbs up," so I complied.
I have a lot less to do this summer than I've had for the past four months, so I'll be showing up in your feed a lot more. :)
Llama turned two, and she deserves an awesome post devoted only to her second birthday party, so that's coming.
Aunt Dots is graduating, and she ALSO deserves an awesome post devoted only to her graduation festivities.
Two gratuitous photos:
Llama has outgrown her car seat. See how her head is over the top and the strap slots are below her shoulders?
On April 22, which is Earth Day, I saw the Green Power Ranger on campus. My friend and I chased him down and took pictures with him. He asked for "a big thumbs up," so I complied.
I have a lot less to do this summer than I've had for the past four months, so I'll be showing up in your feed a lot more. :)
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