Ever had one of those horrible flip out moments, where you just completely lose your mind…and strangely at the same time, you’re standing beside yourself utterly sane? Let me walk you through my most recent pointless meltdown. It all began simple enough. Needless to say, I must have been stressed up to my eyeballs for this monumental of a blow up over a herb. Mt. Kilimanjaro would have been envious.
Tonight for dinner, we’re having meatloaf, green beans and sour cream & chive mashed potatoes. Everything is done, except for the addition of the chives. I open the cupboard. A little voice in my head tells me to calm down. “There’s no chives?” I spin my Lazy Susan. “Where the hell are the CHIVES?!?!” I spin Susie again, this time with much more vehemence. I look at my husband [let me interject…right about now, I’ve stepped outside of myself. There are two of me in the kitchen. One a rampaging lunatic, the other the model of serenity.]
“DO YOU KNOW WHERE MY CHIVES ARE? I wouldn’t just NOT buy more if we were out!!!” [Insert my husband’s blank stare.] Lucid Me tells Psychotic Me to settle down…it’s just chives. Stupidly, I don’t like that bit of advice and proceed to slam shut the cupboard door with the same force as a category 5 hurricane. “Look what you just did, Over-reactor…now you have to clean up your spice rack.” Even the voice in my head has banded forces with the AWOL chives to conspire against me to thwart my charming dinner. At this point, since the onlookers are gawking, I decide to remove myself from the entire scenario. I stomp upstairs. Cursing loudly, smashing my foot into a misplaced toy, tripping over the desk chair, spilling a cup of water (somehow I also wound up with a paper cut) - I sit down. Even the cat is now peering at me.
“Really, Cat?!? You think YOU could do it better? YOU CAN’T MAKE SOUR CREAM & CHIVE MASHED POTATOES WITHOUT THE CHIVES….Otherwise, it’s mashed potatoes that taste funky.” Sensible Me sits down, puts an arm around Unstable Me, tsking all the while. Slowly, the two mes begin to merge back into one slightly more reliable marble-holder. I realize I just challenged my kitten into a cook-off. Laughingly, with self-degradation, I look at the cat once more, “Going to be a bitch to beat me without that opposable thumb.”
I get up to go back downstairs, ready to make my apologies to my family who is now sitting at the table. With an impish grin, my husband hands me the bowl of potatoes and says, “Want some? They’re good, but would be better with some chives….”
Friday, July 1, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Quite possibly the world’s greatest invention, IMHO, is The Sleep Sheep. This enchantingly soft, fluffy and lovable character restored the sanity to my home countless times. See: people are Pavlovian. Provide constant stimuli and we’ll continually furnish you with the same response. And for the most part, infants are just little people. Stimulus/response…stimulus/response (already I’ve noted you’re drooling).
A newborn cries, little bundle gets changed and fed, and finally the wee bairn is lulled to sleep by Mommy’s gentle touch and the constant sounds of Sleep Sheep’s riveting yet monotonous racket. Soon, said tot needs less lulling by Mommy and can rely exclusively upon the gentle cocoon of security afforded by the TOTALLY life-like whale sounds. Seriously?!? Whale sounds… I attended R.I.T., needless to say, it sounds less like “Whale sounds” (which I’ve never actually heard) than it does deaf people having sex (which I actually HAVE heard), but who am I to judge the sick sense of humor afforded the Sleep Sheep manufacturers.
Sleep Sheep is so amazing that not only does she put cranky babies to sleep, Sleep Sheep can work her magic on grown-ups alike. Hell, Sleep Sheep, blared loud enough can out deaf-sex any sniveling bundle of joy – especially at 3am. Wait, that just doesn’t sound right. Sleep Sheep can out whale any wailing nipper – no matter the time of day! Yes, that’s much better…
Sleep Sheep is my BFF. Once a long term sufferer of insomnia, I rest quite well now. I can crawl into bed, turn on Sleep Sheep with her preposterous white noise and [well, so I’ve been informed] sleep straight through my husband coming upstairs, turning on all the lights in our room, smashing his foot into his dirty clothes basket and the ensuing swearing, flip on Transformers (the movie) to at least volume 24, brush his teeth, rearrange the entire left side of our bed, pull the blankets off of me, unceremoniously fling himself onto the mattress and fart loudly. [that’s always the best one the next morning – “I even farted really loud, and God did it smell…but you didn’t even budge.” Yes, honey – you’re a prize.] Thank you, Sleep Sheep.
Many times, while looking back on my childrens’ infancy fondly, I’m forced to wonder: how on earth did I withstand the awesome power of Sleep Sheep back then and not drop the baby on their little noodle? Wistfully, I turn my attention back to my kids playing in the driveway. Two of them are wearing helmets for no reason, other than, “We like helmets, Mommy.” While the third could possibly be the poster child for birth control…and I’m confounded. How many times DID I drop them due to Sleep Sheep’s seductive allure? On second thought…curse you Sleep Sheep…CURSE YOU!
A newborn cries, little bundle gets changed and fed, and finally the wee bairn is lulled to sleep by Mommy’s gentle touch and the constant sounds of Sleep Sheep’s riveting yet monotonous racket. Soon, said tot needs less lulling by Mommy and can rely exclusively upon the gentle cocoon of security afforded by the TOTALLY life-like whale sounds. Seriously?!? Whale sounds… I attended R.I.T., needless to say, it sounds less like “Whale sounds” (which I’ve never actually heard) than it does deaf people having sex (which I actually HAVE heard), but who am I to judge the sick sense of humor afforded the Sleep Sheep manufacturers.
Sleep Sheep is so amazing that not only does she put cranky babies to sleep, Sleep Sheep can work her magic on grown-ups alike. Hell, Sleep Sheep, blared loud enough can out deaf-sex any sniveling bundle of joy – especially at 3am. Wait, that just doesn’t sound right. Sleep Sheep can out whale any wailing nipper – no matter the time of day! Yes, that’s much better…
Sleep Sheep is my BFF. Once a long term sufferer of insomnia, I rest quite well now. I can crawl into bed, turn on Sleep Sheep with her preposterous white noise and [well, so I’ve been informed] sleep straight through my husband coming upstairs, turning on all the lights in our room, smashing his foot into his dirty clothes basket and the ensuing swearing, flip on Transformers (the movie) to at least volume 24, brush his teeth, rearrange the entire left side of our bed, pull the blankets off of me, unceremoniously fling himself onto the mattress and fart loudly. [that’s always the best one the next morning – “I even farted really loud, and God did it smell…but you didn’t even budge.” Yes, honey – you’re a prize.] Thank you, Sleep Sheep.
Many times, while looking back on my childrens’ infancy fondly, I’m forced to wonder: how on earth did I withstand the awesome power of Sleep Sheep back then and not drop the baby on their little noodle? Wistfully, I turn my attention back to my kids playing in the driveway. Two of them are wearing helmets for no reason, other than, “We like helmets, Mommy.” While the third could possibly be the poster child for birth control…and I’m confounded. How many times DID I drop them due to Sleep Sheep’s seductive allure? On second thought…curse you Sleep Sheep…CURSE YOU!
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