i'm a mama bear

so. yesterday my older son had a symposium at school. each student picked out an historical person, researched them, designed a web page with the information, and had to put together a costume and "be" that person (answer questions) at the symposium. it was a LOT of work, and son picked Hokusai (Japanese artist) who is his FAVORITE person to date and the person he most wants to be like when he grows up (he's getting really good at his art).

SO. symposium from 4-630. on a thursday. he really wanted me AND his dad to go. dad had a doctor apt with new wife for new baby at 230...they'd try to make it (even my longest dr apt didn't last 4 hours). so. i go. i'm freaked out because i don't do well with large groups of strangers, especially when most of them are dressed up in some of the most random (and freaky looking) costumes you've ever seen shoved in one tiny school room (picture HALF of a standard middle school gym). it was great, he was excited to show off his costume, show me his web page (he searched for and loaded over 20 pictures on to his page plus information). and guess what...dad was a no-show. sad.

so. after it's all said and done, son says he's mad at dad. i can understand that. he's 10. this was a big deal for him. disappointment sucks. he asked if he could send his dad a text to tell him he was upset. sure. i'm a believer that kids are fully allowed to have and express their emotions. i may not always agree with his emotions or be happy about the way he chooses to express them, but he's entitled to them. the following is the text conversation with dad:

son: i am mad at you for not coming. it was really inportant to me ]:

dad: you are not the only member of this family

son: neither are you

dad: when you are ready to talk about this, i am

son: it was INPORTANT!!!!!!!!

dad: your mom can make arrangements to drop you off with my parents if you are going to act like this. i though you could be more mature than this.

dad: it's spelled important

wow. okay. the mama bear is so coming out in me. what you also missed is that between the last important from son and the rant from dad there was a LONG phone call with son in tears the instant the phone started ringing. to sum up dad said that if he missed the baby appointment he would be in the dark (because wife couldn't tell him about it afterwords???) and it was more important than some school thing (yes, some school thing). he went on to tell son he was acting immature and childish. umm...i'm sorry...HE'S TEN. he's allowed to be a little childish at times because...wait for it....HE IS A CHILD. you asshat. as to acting immature...who's the one arguing with a ten year old about how to spell important?? and refusing to drive him to meet the grandparents NEXT weekend because he's mad?? talk about a hissy fit! sheesh! i mean REALLY?? this was IMPORTANT to son. i get that the baby is important too, i get that it's a hard call to make, but i'm sure the appointment didn't last the WHOLE time of the symposium (it was probably over before the symposium started) and even if it did, HE'S not the prego one, he could have left and been filled in later. even if it was an ultrasound (which it wasn't, just a regular apt) they would have filmed it and he could have watched the dvd later. i mean COME ON. the sad thing is that this is just a sign of what's to come when the baby gets here. it's what i've been afraid of since they said the stick turned pink. son is already getting shoved off to the side and told he's not as important as new baby. and i get that it's their first. they're building their own new little family. but you already have another son...i get that he's not BOTH of theirs, but he's already here and he IS important. and this was a big deal to him. he's been working on it for months.

and a REALLY BIG part of me wants to call dad and rip into him a little bit. but it won't do any good. phone call would go like this:

me: you were very inappropriate with your son last night.

him: you don't know everything. call me when you're ready to have an adult conversation. *HANG UP*

(yes, he's pulled that on me several times already followed by months of refusing to talk to me and telling son what a bitch i am...yes, he calls me a bitch to our son)

so. for now i'm supporting son. he cried quite a bit last night. it was HEART BREAKING. and i told him that it was fine that he was upset and i was proud of him for telling his dad that he was upset (usually he's too scared to say anything...i understand why). he said he wanted to talk to the counselor at school today and i said that would probably be a good idea. and we'll order a pizza and do a gilmore girls marathon this weekend (i'm not ashamed to say my son is addicted to gilmore girls like me...he likes kirk). we'll make funny faces at each other and i'll make him clean his room then he'll be mad at me too. this too shall pass. at least i'm not the most hated one this week! YES!

random prego bunnies with ice picks

so many inconsequential things to say, so little time. okay. first. i was walking across the street the other day on my way back to work after lunch and this very nice pickup truck pulled up to the intersection. now, i know i look good, you know i look good, but he in the truck was just discovering how good i look. and it must have been quite startling because it forced him to almost immediately begin to scratch his brain. yes, that's right. while mildly interesting gentleman in the hot truck was checking me out (very obviously) he proceeded to insert finger up nose to fourth knuckle (that's all the way in if you weren't aware) and scratch his brain at the amazingness that was me. how flattering. i laughed. i'm still laughing. it amazes me what people do. no, that's not true, i've ceased being amazed. but it's still fucking hilarious. he was in the cone of invisibility that is our own personal vehicle (even though his windows were all down, thus shattering the invisible barrier, some people forget that). he could see me, but i couldn't see him. it was lovely. i'll cherish that moment for ever. F.O.R.E.V.E.R.

second. i am a jealous person. i am just learning to admit this. and yes, it's a complete and total jealousy based on insecurity and greed. it's things i wish i could be, things i want to have, a way of life that i want to reach. that's all jealousy is at the root really, wanting what you don't have or protecting what you're scared you're going to lose. i never really thought i was a jealous person. and i guess i'm only half of the normal jealous picture you see of females. i get horribly jealous but i won't act on it, i won't say anything (usually), i won't boil a baby rabbit or come after you with an ice pick. but it's there. almost all the time. because i hear, and i see, and i know. i know that the guy that's been tolerating me for the last two years still prefers the itty bitty little girls. i know he still drools over his ex's (and satisfies them as they see fit to drop by). i'm jealous that he attracts women like no ones business and i rarely get any attention. i'm jealous of the couples that i see that are happy together (even though i would probably go insane if that was me). i'm jealous of all the people that have someone to call and talk to when they have a bad day. i'm jealous of all the people that have someone to curl up and watch a movie with. i'm jealous of the people who have kids that are out of diapers. i'm jealous of people that have help handling mouthy teen-wannabe's. i'm jealous of people that can just live their lives and not have to worry about money every minute (even if they're just pretending). i'm jealous of the people that LOVE their jobs and really feel like they're making a difference (not just shuffling papers back and forth). it's all irrational. it's all things that will come in time or i just need to get off my ass and work towards. they're silly, nonsensical things that are a waste of energy to worry about. but it's there. and i'm owning it. not sure what good it will do me, but i'm owning my jealousy. it's there. i'd rather admit that than fight it forever.

*big sigh* okay. next. i've decided i would be a great surrogate. the friend that i recently wrote about passing- his best friend is (was?) a gay gentleman that has been desperately looking for a surrogate to have a child for he and his partner. why not? i was good at being prego. had super fat and healthy babies, no big worries during the pregnancies, the deliveries were both horrible, but that's just one day. and honestly, how much fun would it be to have people as questions about the baby and be able so say "oh, it's not mine..." i think it would be a freaking riot to see people's faces. they're looking at you...ummm...you're pregnant, what do you mean it isn't yours?? i would crack up every time. like when phoebe was prego on friends and got to tell people they were her brother's babies...freaking fun! hell yes! sign me up! plus, i was super healthy when i was prego. great hair, great skin, really healthy...i'll sign up for that! so. me + prego = great jokes and fat babies. it's an all around win.

moving on. how many of you believe in strange things that happen? okay, guess i could be a little more specific- the tattoo on my calf. it is loaded with personal meaning for me, the most important part is the pink butterfly that is for the gal here at work battling breast cancer. well, she's started coughing again which is NOT a good sign, it means her cancer is back again. well, ever since she started coughing again, my butterfly has been itching off and on. just the butterfly, not the rest of the tatt. just that one part. how odd is that? i think it's really odd. and it's just the left wing...i wonder if her cancer is worse in one lung than the other (that's where's it's spread to finally...started out 20 years ago as breast cancer). and today, i had a cold spot in the middle of the back of my right hand. it felt like a cold drop of water was on it and i kept trying to wipe it off but there was nothing there. there IS a small virtually invisible spot that i can see exactly around where the cold spot is...no bug bite, no marks, but i can see a circle of skin that doesn't match. i wonder what the hell that has to do with anything. if i find out one of my kids hurt their hands today i will freak out. that always happened to us growing up. well, not so much us as my brother. every time he got in trouble my mum would get little itty bitty water blisters all over her fingers so he was basically busted before he ever got home.

okay. one final thing for today: every time i hear "stimulus package" it makes me giggle. yes, i do have the ability to make anything dirty. it's great.

so. in summary: brain scratching, ice picks and bunnies, prego joke, "stimulus package" *giggle* dirty.