October 14, 2007
After spending 24 hours with Janie...
...here are a few of the amusing snippets I'd like to share:
[at the football game that Mr. Pilot coaches]
First Quarter: "Aunt Jen, don't cheer because Mr. Pilot will recognize your voice and see us!! Oh my gosh Aunt Jen, that would be SO embarrassing. I might just have to die."
Second Quarter: "Aunt Jen, hide me! What if he sees us?!"
Third Quarter: "Who--hoo! Who--hoo! GO [MASCOT]!!!! Aunt Jen, can we go talk to Mr. Pilot now?"
Fourth Quarter: [in accelerating volume, after seeing Mr. Pilot do the same to his players] "Who wants to play some football? Who wants to play some FOOTBALL? Who wants to PLAY some FOOTBALL? WHO WANTS TO PLAY SOME FOOTBALL?!?" [Ensue crazy dancing] "Can we go talk to him NOW?"
She asked me later if he had a wife. I said no, but we should probably check with him again just to be sure.
[this morning as we sat at the Whole Foods eating breakfast]
"Aunt Jen, can you get me more eggs?"
Janie, you've already eaten an entire cinnamon bun, half of my scone, a plate of eggs, a side order of bacon, half of the sausage, a packet of Sweet Tarts, and had a whole glass of lemonade.
"Aunt Jen, look! There is still room in my stomach [pushing a finger disgustingly far into her abdomen] right HERE."
[note that she managed to consume an entire smoothie immediately after this discussion...who am I to argue with extra room in one's stomach?]
[later this morning as we got ready to go to a tea party]
"Aunt Jen, I wish you were my REAL mother."
Janie, don't even joke about that.
"No really. At least, maybe I could just stay with you for another 31 days. That's a good idea, don't you think?"
Let's go. Right now.
September 30, 2007
Happiness in My Heart
I recently had a conversation in which I compared my own happiness to someone else's. I'll spare you the details, but the gist is that—on average—I am a quite happy person. I attributed it to not having expectations that need to be fulfilled in order to be a contented person (like marriage, kids, whatever), but that instead I am delighted to feel like I am taking advantage of whatever opportunities are presented.
I didn't think much about it until I saw this article in today's Washington Post. Titled Is Great Happiness Too Much of a Good Thing?, author Shankar Vedantam writes about a new study out this week that suggest a happiness paradox.
Put another way, a hidden price of being happier on average is that you put your short-term contentment at risk, because being happy raises your expectations about being happy. When good things happen, they don't count for much because they are what you expect. When bad things happen, you temporarily feel terrible, because you've gotten used to being happy.
I'm not sure what that means about my own happiness…although it does suggest why I get bummed out at silly little things (for example, when someone makes a rude gesture at my driving, it will ruin my whole morning), but also why I can bounce back relatively quickly when things don't go my way. The article ends with this thought:
The psychologists are studying ways to help people retain their sensitivity to positive experiences. Individuals and couples who attend to everyday accomplishments, celebrate the positive, and cultivate a sense of gratitude for what they have seem to have the best odds of getting off the happiness treadmill.
In that spirit, please allow me to share with you the amusement I experienced today. It turns out that Janie was asked to draw "what was in her heart". (I assume this was some sort of Sunday School project.) There was room for four things and guess who made the list?
Mommy. Grandma. Aunt Jen. And…
Who would get the coveted fourth space? Would it be daddy in San Diego, or new-dad Mr. Eagle Six? Would it be granddad, who dutifully gets her that second donut every week after church? No…it was…
That's right. My cat made the list. Just in case you were wondering, this is the same cat that hisses as Janie every time she enters the same room. The cat that nearly cost me two fingers last week. The cat that probably dreams about clawing her way to freedom. But according to Janie, "sometimes she's nice".
So here's to "sometimes being nice" being good enough to get you into someone's heart.
July 25, 2007
Babies on the Brain
Lately Janie has been enraptured by the idea of wishing on stars. Coming up with these wishes must take up a good two or three hours every day, although since she's usually asleep by the time that the stars come out, I'm not quite clear on how she's dispensing these wishes.
Also of great importance in this task is the fact that a wish must be kept secret. We've told her that if you tell a wish it won't come true, and this presents a problem because Janie's second favorite thing to do these days is talk. About everything. Nonstop. Until I want to swing by the hospital and have a tubal ligation just to ensure that I will never have to repeat this experience.
Janie has decided that there is a happy middle ground to this problem, and that is telling her potential wishes to just ONE person (or occasionally two or three). It seems that as long as one person is kept in the dark (and unfortunately, that person is rarely me), Janie has decided that the wish gods will see fit to grant her said desire.
Anyway, I now present you with a smattering of the potential wishes Janie will make this week:
-- How about I wish that you [mommy] were pregnant...a whole 8 months pregnant!
-- How about I wish that you have a baby boy and we name it Ollie?
-- How about it's a girl and we still name it Ollie?
-- Aunt Jen, I wished last night that daddy would get married!
There was also some discussion about God, and whether he would make people sick. Jessica was doubtful that God would purposefully make people sick and Janie retorted that God made germs and germs made people sick. Ergo God=infection, I suppose. Seems about right to me.
Posted by madchen at 05:48 PM | Comments (3)July 08, 2007
Crazy
You know that incredibly adorable commercial where the little girl chatters in nonsensical delight while her dad buckles her into the car? The one that gives your reproductive organs a little lurch everytime you see that achingly sweet microcosm of life with a small child?
Achingly sweet, that is, until that 30-second spot turns into the reality of a 48-hour monologue complete with regular updates on why you are not as nice as Grandma, not as fun as Grandad, and how everything in the world will be right once mommy and daddy get back from Portugal.
In short, Janie is driving me crazy. Between the hysterical crying jags (I MISS MY MOMMY AND DADDY!!! WHY DO GRANDMA AND GRANDAD HAVE TO GO TO A PARTY??? WHY CAN'T THE PARTY BE HERE??? I MISS MY PARENTS!!!) and the sullen sulking fits are moments where every possible thing going on in the whole universe needs to be observed and commented upon. There has not been a single 2-minute gap of silence in this house for DAYS, and I am seriously considering puncturing my eardrums just to get a little peace.
I would do it, too, except the thought of having to answer approximately three hundred twenty-seven thousand, six hundred and ninety-four questions along the lines of aunt jen what happened to your ears? aunt jen, does that hurt? aunt jen, one time i hurt my ear and it was WAY worse that that just makes me want to skip ahead and kill myself.
Janie, when you read this years from now, I want you to fully understand that tonight, in the midst of your misery and heartache, I was missing your parents WAY MORE THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY FATHOM. Hell, I practically called Portugal to insist that your parents get on a plane this very instant...and if they could crash land on our house and put my out of my misery, well that would just be a bonus.
(Not that there haven't been moments of amusement, like the conversation Janie and I just had...it begins as I'm about 30 seconds away from losing my temper and locking her in a small closet...)
Ay dios mio!
"Aunt Jen, what does that mean?"
It means 'oh my goodness'.
"In horse language?"
No, in Spanish.
"Oh, I see. How would you say it in horse language?"
And this one...
"Aunt Jen, I am going to miss you when I go on my trip."
Are you going to cry every night when it's time to go to bed, and wail I WANT MY AUNT JEN!!?
"Well...no. But I will probably cry I WANT MY GRANDMA!"
What? You are an ingrate!
"Aunt Jen, it's nothing personal. It's just the way things are."
[Fifteen minutes, and thirty-seven topics of conversation later...]
"Aunt Jen, what is an ingrate?
Posted by madchen at 09:00 PM | Comments (1)May 20, 2007
At This Point...
Picture it, dear reader. I've just walked downstairs and am about to get in the car and run downtown for a meeting. Janie is playing with Play-doh in the kitchen. My mom is doing something in the dining room.
Mom: Jen, I've found a guy for you!
Janie: A guy for what Aunt Jen?
Me: What?
Mom: I've found a guy for you.
Me: Where?
Janie: A guy for WHAT Aunt Jen?!?
Mom: Well, actually Lisa found him. I can't even remember how it came up.
Me: [Doubtfully] Really.
Janie: AUNT JEN, A GUY FOR WHAT?!?
Mom: Aunt Jen is always complaining that I don't help her to meet boys, and so now I've found one.
Janie: Oh. [Goes back to playing with the Play-doh.]
Me: Who is this guy and where did you find him?
Mom: I don't actually know anything about him. I think he's 30 or 32.
Me: Hmmm.
Mom: Actually, Lisa said he was 28 at first. But you don't mind, right? I mean at this point...
Me: [raised eyebrow] At "this point"?
Mom: Well, um, you know what I mean...once you're almost thirty...
Me: [two raised eyebrows]
Mom: I don't mean...I just meant...now that...it's not like you're just out of college...
Me: Just move on, immediately. What else do you know about him?
Mom: Well, Lisa said that she might invite him to the next ball. Apparently, he likes to get dressed up and go to fancy things.
Me: Oh.
Mom: Does that make him a little gay?
Me. Maybe, but you know, at this point...
Janie: Yeah, Aunt Jen, at this point you are getting OLD!!
Posted by madchen at 10:30 PM | Comments (0)OFIIDIM Hits a Snag
My birthday has come and gone, and I feel much the same, dear reader. Turns out that twenty-nine isn't some great turning point upon which everything changes. Nope, it's the same old, same old.
Take for example, my new life plan tentatively entitled Operation Fuck It, I'll Do It Myself (OFIIDIM)--a grand roadmap for empowered living, a way to take back my dreary existence and perhaps even accomplish some of my 50 things (which has been woefully neglected as of late).
It's a superb plan. On paper. What I didn't count on what a small child getting in the way. When OFIIDIM meets Janie, it's not so much a contest of wills as a slaughter.
It started when Jessica called me on Thursday and asked if I could babysit Janie on Friday. I said yes, if Janie would agree to go hiking with me. That was my ONE birthday plan, and OFIIDIM demanded that it be fulfilled. Janie agreed, and even showed up at our house with hiking clothes (sneakers, rather than the usual dress up Cinderella shoes) and a backpack.
Friday dawned gray and threatening, and before I was awake for 20 minutes Janie was beggining me not to go hiking. Instead, she claimed that we would have a much better time watching Disney Channel and playing with barbies. She even offered to do my hair.
Side note: dear reader, if a 6-year old ever offers to do your hair, take my advice and run for the hills. Immediately.
In the end, I gave up the hiking idea and convinced her to go to lunch. Sushi is my favorite food, and I thought that at least if I could have sushi for lunch, that would still sort of be like I was taking charge of my own life. OFIIDIM might somehow be saved.
Janie insisted that she only ate sushi on the fourth Friday of every month. Was this the fourth Friday of the month? No? Then she was very sorry, but she just couldn't do it. Even if it was my birthday.
We ended up at Cosi, where I ate a very-poor-substitute-for-sushi salad and Janie ate half of a kid's pepperoni pizza. We spent the next 90 minutes down the street in a paint-your-own-pottery class where we painted perhaps the most expensive plant holders I've ever encountered. (Since you have to wait for a week for the pieces to be kilned, you'll have to wait until next weekend to see pictures, at which time I think you will agree that no one in our family is destined to be the next Renoir.)
After that great adventure, we went back to Cosi for what Janie termed "a birthday dessert": s'mores. OFIIDIM took another step backwards, since I HATE s'mores. But after six quality hours with Janie, my will had been sapped and I simply led her lead me around by the hand as she assured me that this time I would like them.
I didn't, but at least we were mercifully approaching the time when I could drive her back home, relinquish her to the vagaries of cable television, and take a nap. But before I could do that, I had to appease the tiny voice that was whispering deep in my soul. Yes, dear reader, it turned out that OFIIDIM wasn't dead, just maimed, and it would not go peacefully.
In a last ditch effort to exert some control over my life, I called my mom to confirm that she hadn't purchased my gift yet, and then I decided to take matters into my own hands. I dragged Janie to the Apple Store where I purchsed a shiny new iPod Shuffle in record time.
I marched back to the car and drove us home with a feeling of pride. I had fought a battle of wills with Janie and I had not been demolished! I had wanted an iPod Shuffle and dammit, I went out and got one. There couldn't be a more perfect example of OFIIDIM in action.
Although...when I woke up from my nap that afternoon, I looked over and groggily realized that I have never intended to get a PINK iPod Shuffle. Apparently, Janie had made a very compelling case during the purchasing process that pink was really the only way to go.
Posted by madchen at 11:24 AM | Comments (2)May 12, 2007
Check Your Drawers
Today I joined the ladies in my family for a Mother's Day tea at a historic inn about an hour away from home. The tea was delicious, the bite-sized pastries were divine, and the conversation was hilarious.
My mom had organized this event for the women of her church, and had made little lavender sachets in a way that very cleverly resembled teabags. We had done a similar thing last year, when we hosted a Mother's Day tea, and Janie was excited to see these party favors making another appearance.
We had explained that you put these sachets in your underwear drawer to make your clothes smell nice. Apparently, she was only half listening, because Jessica later heard her tell someone:
"You put them in your panties."
I double-checked as we left to make sure that all of the sachets were safely in my purse, and not stuck down in anyone's nether regions.
Posted by madchen at 11:48 PM | Comments (0)May 05, 2007
Laughter Through Tears Is The Best Kind
This is from a email I received from my sister...
So the husband of the counselor at Janie's school was killed in a car accident, very tragic, and so the kids all made sympathy cards for her. And that put Janie on a kick of writing sympathy cards, one for Grandad because his dad is blind and one for Grandma because her parents died. I had a hard time explaining that sometimes its not nice to point out other people's misfortunes long after the wound has healed and there's no need to bring it up.
So she asked about you and [Mr. Pilot] a couple days ago and I told her that you weren't boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. I thought this might be a good outlet for the "sympathy-card-frenzy". So I suggested that she might make you a card to make you feel better. Her response: I only make cards for dead people. Is he dead? I told her that he was not dead. She looked away with a "case closed" look on her face. "Then he doesn't get one."
Happy cinco de mayo, dear readers.
Posted by madchen at 11:36 PM | Comments (0)April 15, 2007
Where Have You Been?
"Aunt Jen, where have you been?"
With Mr. Pilot.
[Thoughtful silence.]
"Were you at a hotel?"
Um...yes.
[Thoughtful silence.]
"When did you leave?"
On Thursday.
"Where was the hotel?"
In Tyson's Corner.
"No, I mean in what STATE was the hotel?"
Virginia.
[Thoughtful silence.]
"Did you have to fly there?"
Nope, we just drove.
"Ok, you want to play?"
Actually, I want to take a nap.
Posted by madchen at 11:35 AM | Comments (0)March 27, 2007
You Know, The One With The Sign
"Grandma, I saw one of Aunt Jen's old boyfriends on her camera."
Really, which one? I don't remember looking at any old boyfriends.
"You know...the one with the....the one...he had a....you know....with the sign."
That is certainly a very PC way of describing him, my love. But you know, that's just my friend, Mr. Bad Apologies--he was never my boyfriend. We have just been friends for a VERY long time.
"But Aunt Jen, why was he on your boyfriend camera?"
I didn't realize that was my boyfriend camera.
Posted by madchen at 02:12 AM | Comments (1)March 24, 2007
A New Definition of Fun
Where are you going?
"Grandad is taking me to McDonald's, and I'm going to have root beer!"
[Pointed look.]
"What, Aunt Jen? It's just PLAIN root beer! My mom said I could have it. She really did...it's just PLAIN root beer!!"
Hmm, okay, well have fun.
"Aunt Jen, come here! [Motions me forward, whispers.] I have written you a note, and you can see it when I get back. It says 'You are the best Aunt Jen I have, and I like playing with you.' Do you think you will like that?"
I'm sure I will.
"And we're going to play tonight--right?"
Yup, while everyone goes to dinner it's going to be just you and me. Have you thought of anything fun to do?
"Yes!! How about math!? I have math princess cards..."
Sounds like a plan. That's how I like to spend my Saturday nights...brushing up on my basic addition and subtraction.
Posted by madchen at 01:04 PM | Comments (1)February 19, 2007
Massage with a 5-Year Old
"Aunt Jen, lean back and close your eyes."
Hmm...ok.
"Now, pretend I am massaging your face."
Janie, you are massaging my face.
"I know. Now, keep your eyes closed..."
Ow! Why are you poking my eyeballs?
"Just relax."
Quit poking my eyeballs!
"Jeez, Aunt Jen, you are supposed to be quiet. Just ENJOY it."
Ok, but maybe you could just massage my forehead instead.
"Fine. But don't think this is a real massage anymore."
That's okay with me.
"Well, just so you know."
Posted by madchen at 10:08 PM | Comments (0)February 12, 2007
Mix It Up
"Aunt Jen, will you sit in the back seat with me so we can play games on the way there?"
Sure thing, sweetie.
"But are you going to sleep?"
No, it's just a few minutes until we get to the restaurant.
"But you said that you have to sleep in the back. Otherwise you throw up."
It's true. I guess we'll just have to be prepared.
"But Aunt Jen!! You CAN'T throw up because then I'll see it and then I'LL throw up!!"
Well, we'll just throw up in my purse, and then it won't get all over us. Deal?
"Yup."
..........
"Aunt Jen, will you play thumb wrestle?"
No, because you cheat.
"I won't this time. Pinky promise."
[Pinky promise ensues.]
Ok--1, 2, 3, 4, I declare thumb war.
[Thumb wrestling begins, with Janie demonstrating a mean technique.]
"I WIN I WIN I WIN!!"
That's pretty amazing.
"And I didn't even cheat this time!"
It's a miracle.
"I will draw you a picture of it when we get home."
Posted by madchen at 11:41 PM | Comments (0)February 05, 2007
Private Conversations
[The two of us quietly playing barbies...Disney Channel is on in the background...No one has spoken in several minutes...]
"Aunt Jen?"
Yep.
"How come you have so many boyfriends?"
Let's not ask that question in front of Grandma, okay?
"Okay. But how come you do?"
A question for the ages, my love.
Posted by madchen at 01:19 AM | Comments (0)December 03, 2006
Upon Losing Her First Tooth
Janie, are you going to put your tooth under your pillow tonight?
"Yes I am, and the Tooth Fairy is going to bring me money."
Wow! How much money do you think? Maybe a quarter?
"Or a dollar."
Hmm, are you going to buy me something with your new money?
"Yes, I will. What do you want?"
Maybe some gum?
"Ok then, I'll buy you and my mom presents when I get the money."
I'm not sure that a dollar is going to buy a present for me and a present for your mom.
"Well, I'll buy you some gum and my mom can have...some rocks."
**********
Bonus "Conversation with Janie" - as told to me by her mom.
[Setting: driving in the car]
Janie: I am SO hungry.
[Silence]
Janie: My stomach is GROWLING.
[farts]
Janie: Oh man--now my butt is growling!
Posted by madchen at 07:04 PM | Comments (2)November 21, 2006
I'll Be Watching For That
Come on Janie, let's brush your teeth.
"No, I want to get Grandma."
I know, but I told Grandma that I would get you all ready for bed before I left for my date. So let's brush your teeth.
"No, I want Grandma!"
Let's both brush our teeth. I need a clean mouth just in case I decide to kiss Mr. Bethesda.
[shocked silence] "Aunt Jen!! I will be watching for that!"
Posted by madchen at 08:52 AM | Comments (0)November 05, 2006
That's Not a Date
"Aunt Jen, I cannot BELIEVE that you are still in your pajamas at nine o'clock in the afternoon." **
I know, it's pretty silly, but I do have a good reason. I have a date tonight and I wanted to take a shower in the afternoon so that I would be especially clean for our dinner.
"What are you going to do on your date?"
We're just going to dinner.
"That's not a date."
Why not?
"A date is when you go for a walk. Or you go DANCING. Are you going dancing?"
Nope, just to dinner.
"Well, that's not a date."
What is it then?
"Well...it's not a PERSONAL date."
So what is it?
"Geez, Aunt Jen, it's just dinner!"
** Note to reader: It was really 2 p.m., but I will defend to my dying breath the right to wear flannel pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt ALL Saturday afternoon if I so choose.
[And a very nice dinner it was. In fact, it was delightful. I mean, it wasn't a PERSONAL date--like, with dancing--but I do believe I might see this young man again sometime soon.]
Posted by madchen at 12:00 AM | Comments (2)October 30, 2006
Overheard This Past Weekend
Janie: Grandad, can you fix it?
Grandad: I probably could fix it if Grandma would let me have some new tools.
Janie: [calling into the other room] Grandma! Will you let Grandad have some new tools?
Grandma: Maybe if he's nice to me...
Janie: [to Grandad] Are you going to be nice to Grandma?
Grandad: I am nice to Grandma!!
Janie: [in a loud whisper] You need to be nicer...as nice as a dog.
Posted by madchen at 10:16 PM | Comments (1)October 17, 2006
The Wisdom of CinderJanie
First, a bit of context.
Last weekend, in preparation for a guest's visit, I needed to clean the bathroom. With everything going on (working 18+ hours a day managing the Big Idea, trying to manage a social life, etc.), I needed to make the most of my manpower, lest I have to crawl under the unwashed covers and cry. To I turned to a child.
I convinced Janie to "play Cinderella". She would be CinderJanie and clean the bathroom floor, and I would be her sister and clean the bathtub while I took a shower. She took to the idea like a duck to water, making me wonder why I hadn't thought about this tactic before.
[scrubbing the floor] "What should I do after I'm done with this?"
[scrubbing the tub] Well, CinderJanie, perhaps you could go make some outfits for your mice friends, or go sing to yourself in the attic.
"No! I mean, what OTHER jobs should I do?"
Well, you could go rub Grandad's smelly feet…
"And?"
And then you could give the cats a bath…
"And THEN?"
And then you could wash and fold all of my laundry.
"That is a LOT of work!"
Well, CinderJanie, you have a very hard life.
"You do too, CinderJen. We BOTH have very hard lives."
Yes, CinderJanie, we do.
[Incidentally, my bathroom floor has never looked so clean.]
October 02, 2006
Why I'm Never Eating Anything Again
"Aunt Jen, Aunt Jen, come over here!"
Why?
"I have a secret to tell you...come HERE!"
Ok, what?
[whispers] "In that outfit, you look PREGNANT!" [shrieks and runs up the stairs]
Fantastic.
Posted by madchen at 12:53 AM | Comments (2)July 24, 2006
Reflections on the Miss Universe Pageant
Janie: "In our family, everyone's stomachs go out. But all these ladies--their stomachs go in."
Jess: "That is certainly one generalization to make about the differences between our family and the Miss Universe contestants."
Janie: "Grandad, let me look in your bellybutton."
Posted by madchen at 01:09 AM | Comments (1)July 18, 2006
Touche
"Aunt Jen, why can't I get a Sprite?"
Because you're already getting a hot fudge sundae. And besides, soda will rot your teeth. Grandad gets angry with me when I let you have a soda.
"But Aunt Jen, Grandad gives me soda all the time!"
I know, that's why Grandad is a hypocrite.
"Aunt Jen! Grandad isn't a hypocrite, he's a dentist."
My point exactly.
Posted by madchen at 04:25 PM | Comments (1)July 04, 2006
A Little Etiquette, Please
"Aunt Jen, is that your gum on the dresser?
Yup.
"Do you want a piece?"
No thanks.
...insert pause...
"AUNT JEN!"
What?
"Aren't YOU supposed to ask ME something now?"
Janie, would you like a piece of gum?
"Yes I would, thank you for asking."
Posted by madchen at 11:21 PM | Comments (0)June 19, 2006
The Admiral Disapproves of Such Talk
Grandad, Grandma, Janie, and Ms. Write Again Soon in the car yesterday...
Janie: Grandma, is Grandad an Admiral?
Grandma: That's right, he is. In fact, we should call him that from now on. [In a snooty Southern voice.] The Admiral likes to watch football on Sunday afternoons. The Admiral thinks we should spend the summer at the lake.
Janie: [Getting into the spirit of it.] The Admiral has goose poop on his windshield!
Posted by madchen at 02:54 PM | Comments (3)June 13, 2006
Boobs
Janie, do you need help with your seatbelt?
"Yes please."
[Picture me leaning over, trying to maneuver between Baby Janie--her doll, swaddled in three blankets and a baby carrier--a half liter of water in an obnoxiously big sports bottle, and a squirming 5-year old in a Barbie Princess car seat.]
"AAAUUUGGGHHH!!!!"
What, what, what???
"AUNT JEN, YOUR BOOB IS TOUCHING MY LEG!!!"
[I sigh.] Yeah, sometimes that happens. But weren't you the one who was looking down my shirt this weekend? You didn't seem to have a problem THEN.
[She sighs.] "Aunt Jen, that was TOTALLY different."
Of course, how silly of me.
Posted by madchen at 12:24 AM | Comments (0)May 19, 2006
On the Ride Home from Dinner
Janie, what are you going to be when you grow up?
"A veterinarian."
Oh, so you can take care of puppies and ponies and other animals?
"Yes, I'll take care of all the animals. Except for frogs. They can go to the frog place."
[Silence]
"But I will take care of the tablets."
The what?
"Tablets, the baby frogs."
Posted by madchen at 11:02 PM | Comments (0)April 19, 2006
Things I Hate: Stepping In Pee
This past weekend the whole family was here at the house. With both parents, two daughters, and one small, spoiled child on the top floor, it was inevitable that something like this would happen.
Sometime during the middle of the night, I stumbled to the bathroom. In the hallway I thought my pinky toe felt a little wet--but I didn't think much of it. Stepping into the bathroom, my foot hit a definite puddle. A yellow puddle. Irritated, but with a bladder issue myself, I stepped onto the bathmat, next to a tiny pair of pajama bottoms--abandoned on the floor. These pajamas were sopping wet, and I reflectively hopped to the side, landing square on a pair of white-turned-yellow socks.
Still half asleep, I completed my task in the bathroom and stumbled back to bed--dealing with the puddles the next morning. Later that day, I found Janie and Jess sitting in the sunroom, happily watching the television. Our converation went like this:
Me: (Rhetorically) Whose pair of pee-soaked pajama bottoms did I find in my bathroom?
Janie: (Innocently) Were they yours?
Me: No. Who do you think they belonged to?
Janie: (Still innocently) Who do you think? Me?
Me: (Sarcastically) I don't know. What do you think?
Janie: (Looking directly at me) Were they little?
Jessica: Janie, did you pee on Aunt Jen's bathroom floor?
Janie: (Looking away) I don't remember.
Posted by madchen at 11:27 PM | Comments (1)April 10, 2006
So much to say, so little time
In my habit of overbooking events, I have had a very busy week. And while I'd love to write a witty entry about each one, I think it will be more expedient to just lump them all into one.
First, I saw Yo-Yo Ma at the Kennedy Center on Tuesday with my family. He played the Bach cello suites, which I just adore, and several encores from the Silk Road/Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon era. It was part of the "birthday for dad" extravaganza, which also included a new iPod and a very abstract discussion about why there is no "stop" on iTunes. Somehow, the concept that you don't *need* to stop, since "pause" works just as well doesn't translate to the older generations.
On Thursday night I went to the American Rights at Work award dinner with Ms. ADA, where I mingled with the union and pro-labor movement crowd, saw Danny Glover, Senator Edwards, and Tom Morello (of Rage Against the Machine and Audioslave fame). And because I'm so lucky, I even won a prize in the raffle--a very sleek Razr phone and pre-paid phone card. Of course, I already have a phone (with a 2-year Verizon contract), and what I really want is a Treo, so I'll be making someone very happy on their birthday.
Yesterday was another busy one. I had a Big Idea conference call in the morning, then met up with Mr. XXXXX* for lunch and a movie (V for Vendetta)--which I found entertaining, but puzzling at the end. Dear reader, if you have seen the movie and would like to straighten me out about the identity of V, please do so.
From there I betook myself to Alexandria for a "naughty girl" party (click here if you are over 18 and NOT my mother or father). It's rather like a tupperware party, but with *other* goods for sale. Quite fun.
From there I hopped back up to D.C. for Ms. Wish to See's bachelorette party. I cheerfully partook of stupid games (although getting the smeared whip cream out of the crotch of my jeans today proved to be more than I bargained for) and enjoyed karaoke at Peyote Cafe. I managed to kiss someone with the "Plague of Death" (picture forthcoming) and now have my fingers crossed that I don't catch ill.
A sleepover at Ms. Red's finished off the night, and the morning dawned bright and sunny--and with Ms. Signe reaping the consequences of her nightof heavy drinking. Poor thing--Mr. Signe had to come fetch her back home, while I threw on a sweatshirt and hurried back home to prepare for my 3rd date with Mr. Cool.
It started off promisingly, with Mr. Cool arriving to pick me up for dinner in Bethesda. From there we drove down to the 930 Club to see Neko Case and Martha Wainwright. The music was great, and Mr. Cool and I had an easy repore. At the same time, it was REALLY difficult (once again) to get a read on whether he was just being friendly, or if he was interested. There were signs everywhere, but they all conflicted. Reaching around to make sure I could see the stage--good. Noting that he had a meeting at 9 a.m. that he wasn't prepared for--bad. Sigh.
Fortunately, it all worked out in the end, when Mr. Cool agreed to come inside for a minute after driving me home. God bless the man for making the first move. I'll spare you the details, dear reader, but I assure you they were more sweet than shocking.
So to sum up, I've gotten more action this weekend than the WHOLE rest of the year combined. April is being very, very good to me. And what a nice way to start the week!
*Hmm, I don't think I have a name for him, and after 30 seconds of reflection I'm still at a loss.
Posted by madchen at 12:01 AM | Comments (2)February 18, 2006
I Just Now Remembered
A further conversation in the car...
Driving along in relative peace and quiet. Suddenly, the car is filled with a horrid smell.
"Ewww, what is that smell?"
"I don't know, I think we drove past something that smelled bad."
"It smells like chicken."
"No it doesn't."
"Well, chicken that has been left on the road...[lengthy pause] for a REALLY LONG TIME."
Posted by madchen at 09:09 PM | Comments (0)February 17, 2006
In the Car
"Aunt Jen, how old are you?"
"How old do you think?"
Considerable pause for reflection...
"Seventy-one?"
[In shocked outrage.] "WHAT?"
[More tentatively.] "Seventy-two?"
A few minutes go by...total silence ensues as we drift off to our own imaginations.
[Out of the blue.] "Aunt Jen, you need to get a HOLD of yourself."
Posted by madchen at 05:11 PM | Comments (0)January 09, 2006
A Week With Her Dad
Janie and her dad are staying with us this week, while he visits from California. So far, it has been a delightful time--he has a magical way of rough-housing that somehow doesn't end in tears. At least not every time--which is a far better track record than any of us have with her.
Click on the picture above to see the rest of the photos in this album.
True Poverty
Janie's dad is here for another round of co-parenting. During these week-long visits, one of the highlights is the trip to Toys R Us, where Janie plays up how hard life is with a single mom. Here is an excerpt from the toy store visit, as relayed back to me by her dad.
"I want this baby carseat."
"Janie, you already have a dozen babies that look JUST like that one. And you already have a baby carseat. How about a football?"
"Nuh-uh! I don't have a carseat....that sings."
Yes, its true, this particular baby carseat (complete with drone baby) comes equipped with several buttons that make noise. Push one, and through a shrieking din of static, you can hear a tinny "Mama", or perhaps even a wailing baby. Because nothing says "fun car trip" like noisy toys.
Of course, they bought it. And the football too. I've seen her throw the ball, and if we can just get her away from all things pink and frilly, I think we might have a quarterback on our hands.
Posted by madchen at 06:34 PM | Comments (0)December 30, 2005
A Christmas Gift the Gestapo Would Love
For the past four days, I have been in torment. Somehow, my Christmas cold--which came and went as quickly as Santa Claus on his sleigh--left in its wake a sinus headache. And not just any sinus headache, but one where any vertical movement of my head results in waves of agony spilling out of my eyesockets and cascading throughout my body. At any given second, I want to scream in pain and explore whether a fork up my nose would improve my situation.
I've taken decongestants, but then read that they can actually make sinus pain worse (especially if the pain isn't accompanied by congestion), so then I stopped. And then it was suggested that perhaps I should just try a different kind of medication, so I tried Tylenol Sinus and Benadryl Sinus, and even Nyquil (if only for the blissful sleep it allows me). But nothing worked. At this point, I'm ready to call it a brain tumor and have done with it.
But even with this excruciating pain, which deprives me even of the simple things in life--like the screeching sound of Janie's voice, pretending for HOURS to be Serafina my kitten--this anguish was nothing, NOTHING compared to the joys I experienced this afternoon when I tried out Jessica's Christmas present: an epilator.
If you aren't familiar with the concept of epilation, it's most basic definition is "the removal of the entire hair, including the part below the skin." And just in case you don't quite get it, here's the product description from Amazon:
Quickly remove hair from your legs, bikini line and underarms with the Braun Silk-epil Soft Perfection. Unlike shaving, this unique electric system uses a series of tweezers to pull out hair as short as 0.5mm and remove stubble that lies flat against the skin. The EfficiencyPro clip makes sure that the tweezing head keeps in contact with your skin, so you remove more hairs per stroke. A 4-way pulsating pain softener stimulates the skin to offset the pulling sensation, making your epilation experience is as comfortable as possible. Includes a silver mesh carrying case. Made in USA.
Imagine the scene from the 40 Year Old Virgin, where he's waxed within an inch of his life. Then, imagine that instead of a wax strip, which cleanly (if painfully) removes the hair in one fell swoop, a tool resembling a cross between a hand-held weedwacker and a rotating set of tweezer clamps was slowly applied to the skin. It's like being electrocuted (was that the "skin stimulation" the product description referred to?), tweezed, and tortured--all at the same time.
Yes, there was blood (I'm not clear if it was from the plucking of the hairs, or the occasional nip of the skin). Yes, there was pain. I'm happy to say there were no tears, but I did nearly bite my tongue off the first time the epilator touched my armpit. And when it was all over, I realized I was covered in a sheen of sweat. Merry Christmas to me.
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And now, a scene from yesterday's interaction with Janie (aka Serafina the kitten):
Me: You know Janie, one of the reasons I love having cats is that they can play by themselves. In fact, sometimes they play in a completely different room!
Janie: (offended, sulks out of the room)
Me: (sighs with relief, as 20 minutes of shrill MEOW, MEOW, MEOW is about all I can take at once)
Janie: (a few minutes later, at the doorway) Excuse me, do any of you have a cat?
Me: I do.
Janie: A cat named Serafina?
Me: Yes. Where is she?
Janie: (matter-of-factly) Your cat is dead.
Me: WHAT??
Janie: Your cat was in the woods and a wild penguin came up and shot her with a gun. Yup, she's dead.
Me: (speechless)
Posted by madchen at 09:52 PM | Comments (0)November 03, 2005
Converation with A 4-Year Old
These days, it's difficult to talk on the phone with Janie. For one thing, I'm just Aunt Jen--not the coveted telephone persona known as Grandma. She calls almost every evening, and when I pick up the phone it goes something like this:
"Hello?"
"Where's GRANDMA?"
"Hi there! She's still at work. What are you doing tonight?"
"Why is she still at work?"
"Well, she hasn't gotten home yet. Did you have a good day at school?"
"When is GRANDMA going to be home?"
Yes, dear reader, it is quite disheartening to know that your sole role in your niece's life is to know where Grandma is at every second of the day, and to pass the phone as quickly as possible in her direction when she is home. So when I *do* manage to capture Ms. Janie's attention for a second, I'm desperate to keep it going as long as possible. This tendency usually results in a quick devolution into insanity.
Take, for instance, last night. She called around 6 and we went through the routine above. Then we spend another 10 minutes discussing EXACTLY what I was doing AT THAT EXACT MINUTE. It went something like this:
"What are you doing now?"
"I'm sitting in the living room talking to you on the phone. What are YOU doing now?"
"I'm in the car. What else are you doing?"
"That's all--just sitting in the living room."
"Tell me EXACTLY."
"Well, I was watching television in the sun room when the telephone rang, so I turned off the TV and picked up the phone. When I knew it was you, I walked into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch, so that I could talk to you. Right now I'm sitting in the living room, with my legs crossed, and I'm tapping my foot, and Natasha is sitting next to me. I think she's mad that I woke her up."
"What ELSE are you doing?"
And so it proceeded. There was discussion of what television show I was watching (a DVD of the 4th season of Alias)--and I'd like to see you all try to explain the premise of Sydney Bristow to a 4-year old who has been taught it is wrong to hit and steal and kiss boys.
I could tell her attention was fading, so I whipped out my trump card.
Janie is obsessed with babies. Aside from her collection of dollies, she also would watch A Baby Story all day if we let her. She constantly wants to pretend one of us is pregnant (I made the mistake of acquiesing just ONCE, and now at awkward moments in public she says things like "don't you think there's a baby in your tummy, Aunt Jen"?) and is fascinated with all the technicalities of birth.
Simultaneously, the New Boy (NB) is coming over for lunch with the family on Sunday--and I want to break Janie in to the idea that she needs to be nice to him. So I proceeded carefully:
"Guess what Janie? NB's sister just had a baby TODAY."
[To her mom, driving in the front seat] "Oh, oh, oh! NB's sister had a baby today!!"
[To me] "Who is NB? Is he your boyfriend?"
"Um....well...."
[Shrieking] "Pee-yew, Aunt Jen has a boyfriend!! Pee-yew!!"
[Insert several seconds of general 4-year-old disgust at the idea of boys before returning to the issue at hand]
"Is NB the daddy?"
"What?"
"You know, the sister is the mommy and NB is the daddy!"
"No, no, no, no, no. His sister is married, so she is the mommy, her husband is the daddy, and NB is the uncle."
"And what are you?"
"Hmm, I'm not really anything to that baby."
"Maybe you could be the watcher when the mommy and the daddy aren't there."
"That's true. Maybe I could be the babysitter."
"And what are Grandma and Granddad for?"
[Realizing this is getting ridiculous, and it likely to freakout NB if it comes up on Sunday, but feeling like I have to continue the logic of this conversation...] "Maybe they could watch the baby if NB and I go out on a date."
"Yeah. So where is GRANDMA?"
And so it went.
Posted by madchen at 10:14 AM | Comments (1)October 14, 2005
Halloween
First off, let me just say that I HATE BLOG SPAMMERS. Here I am, innocently checking email only to discover 23 comments from urls with viagra prominently displayed somewhere. Sigh.
So I've accepted an invitation to a Halloween party, which is fantastic because I love these guys and I know they throw a great party. Now the problem is that I need a costume. Have you seen the crappy "adult" costumes you can buy at the store?
I was at Target today with Ms. Janie, wunderkind of my sister's loins. As part of my efforts to drag out the shopping experience as long as humanely possible (I was condemned to playing school--my most hated of pretend games--when we got home), we looked at all the costumes. On the way home (in between singing at the top of our lungs), I was discussing the fact that there were no good costumes at the store, when Janie beamed with excitement and said she knew what I could be.
She suggested I dress up as her aunt.
After carefully pondering this suggestion, I delicately hinted that for this party I actually needed a costume. I was immediately told that there was no problem. I could get dressed as her aunt in secret, and then have it be a surprise when I showed up at the party.
I looked down at what I was wearing, and decided that perhaps people would think I was a couch potato.
And now, may I present one of Janie's original masterpieces of lyrical beauty:
(In a warbling tone of innocence)
Oh the streets are flooded
And I can't fly away because I have to stay in the house
And the saints walk past us
And my mother says to me why are you sad
And so I told her
The water is up to my knees
And I can't know the colors of the children
So I'll fly away.
These children, they are sponges. We had just been talking about Hurricane Katrina, and singing "I'll Fly Away" and "When The Saints Go Marching In".
My goal this afternoon (part two of the whole-day babysitting adventure) is to get her to sing some of these gems for the video camera. Then, she will be beholden to me forever.
Posted by madchen at 01:26 PM | Comments (0)August 12, 2005
I do not think that it means what you think that it means
--- "Quite right," Emerson ejaculated. "I cannot imagine what you were thinking of, Peabody, to suggest such a thing.
--- "Holy Jehoshaphat," he ejaculated. "How did she get up here? Not by way of the stairs, or I'd have seen her coming."
--- "Hell and damnation!" I ejaculated, for I knew those light, quick steps.
My, my, my. Certain words that one might casually skip over while reading a book seem to stand out when read aloud.
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In other news, Janie is now answering the phone herself. I was doing a spot of emergency babysitting this morning, which is now quite delightful since Janie can entertain herself for hours on end with a Barbie hotel, Barbie house, Blue's Clues videos, and a pack of Ritz crackers. I was making some calls (part of the BIG IDEA) on my computer (people who aren't on Skype yet are hopeless) and I needed complete quiet. After all, it's hard to sound uber-professional with a small child babbling in the background about the aforementioned Barbie motel, Barbie house, Blue's Clues videos, and pack of Ritz crackers.
So we had a little discussion about how she could watch videos upstairs, and that if she needed me for an EMERGENCY (defined in great detail), she could come downstairs and whisper to me. All fine and good. I didn't hear a peep out of her for 45 minutes.
Then, in the middle of a VERY important phone call on MY line, the house phone rings. To make matters worse, for some reason I had three cordless phones--taken from various places in the house--in the basement room, so it was a cacophony of noise. Trying to maintain my composure, I managed to continue my phone conversation long enough for the house answering machine to pick up.
But then...I notice that the house phone has stopped ringing, but the answering machine (also located in the basement where my desk is) never picked up. I figure the person had hung up, but a few seconds later, Janie trots into the room with the phone in her hand. She whispers that its my father, calling from Kansas, and simply refuses to tell him I'll call him back. I'm wildly trying to shoo her away, while maintaining my smooth telephone persona on MY call, even as her protestations grow in volume.
I ended up having to tell MY phone call to hold on a second, while I talked to my dad on the house phone long enough to arrange to call him back. Once I took the phone, Janie happily returned to her Barbie Barbie house, Blue's Clues videos, and pack of Ritz crackers.
It was only later, once I had concluded MY telephone calls--the guy at the other end didn't seem to mind the high-pitched shrieking interruption on my end--did it occur to me that Janie had picked up the phone on her own. I wandered upstairs, located her in her bedroom-having moved on to dress-up games.
"Why did you pick up the phone?"
"It was grandad."
"I know it was. But how did YOU know that it was grandad before you picked up?"
"I saw there was a Q in the name." [Referring to the caller ID.]
"Janie, there is no Q in our name."
"Ya-huh there is. Besides, I knew it was him."
"How?"
[Rolls eyes and emits deep sigh.] "Aunt Jen, I know my own family."
I left the room at that point, convinced that we could continue discussing the issue for another 20 minutes and get nowhere.
Posted by madchen at 01:13 AM | Comments (0)
