So apparently I jumped the gun on the snow post, because a couple of days after it snowed even more snow. For real. This morning everywhere looked like it was covered in frosting and there was no noise and the snow hadn't turned the world to complete shit yet. Unless you were the sort of person that had to be somewhere. Then it it sucked. But not for me. Hah!
Still, I did have to go and buy some bread this morning. And that's when I came upon just about the most delightful thing ever.
He's just about curb height, which is still very tiny given the abnormally high curbs around here. I just love love love that someone took the trouble to make this little guy.
Though I'll be sad to see him melting over the next few days. I hope an animal comes to eat his nose before I have to see it wilting in the street for very long.
Welcome to Pessimism Street. I've been Mommy Impatient Face Grouchy Pants the last couple of weeks. And while I don't know why, I know exactly why but I'm not sharing. Still, as soon as I saw the snow last night, I decided I'd be Cool Mom and let LE play hooky from school and instead spend the day playing in the snow.
But of course it didn't work out exactly like that. First, we were super-slow getting out of the house. Next, all the nearby snow was either dirty or otherwise defiled by 9am today. I was thinking of trying to bat my (and LE's) eyelids at whoever is in charge of the fake-grass football pitch nearby and getting him to let us play in their pristine fenced-in snow, but then decided I'm not ready to face up to my waning charms, or worse, there could be a woman there, so I decided to take LE up to campus where there's way more snow, way fewer people, and a lovely friend with two little kids.
That's right. Because in some cities you have to travel through the snow to find some nice snow for your kid to play in.
Which is just stupid, really. LE is happy with any old snow, even the greyish-brown soggy kind. He doesn't give a shit. But I still felt I needed to overcompensate for my grouchiness and be a Cool Mom, Plus, there are some newly obscured potholes filled with ice water around here I'm just not happy with.
So, I bundled LE the fuck up so much he started pretending he was that kid in Christmas Story who couldn't put his arms down. Then rush rush rush I scurried LE to the minibus, then sit sit sit I got up us to campus, then rush rush rush I walked us up to the lojman, all the while actually STOPPING the child from playing in the fresh, untouched miles of snow so I could get us to our friend's house for the pre-planned Snow Play Time. And getting impatient and grouchy with the poor fellow to boot.
At least ten times on the journey I found myself thinking, "Fuck you, Stranger! When the fuck did you become this fucking person who doesn't let the child just fucking play in the gorgeous perfect snow?" And then I would think, well, I don't want him to get too wet because he'll be cold in 10 minutes and start whining. And I don't want him to get his gloves too wet because once his hands start hurting it's game over. And when did I become this boring, mind-numbingly practical person? If I were four, I'd want to punch me in the face. So all this thinking just made me madder.
But we got up for the Play, and it was nice. And the friend and I talked and bitched and that was also nice. But then, there wasn't even time for goddamned cocoa at the end of it all because I had to change LE's clothes and rush rush rush back home in time to pay the cleaner and let her get out before the roads froze up again.
Not that I even like cocoa, but still. It's the principle. About how I've turned into someone who kind of sucks. Someone who, if I met me 10 years ago I would have wanted to punch in the face. And then I would have said something snarky about how much better of a mommy I would be. Only I wouldn't have said "Mommy" because I didn't suck yet, 10 years ago. Or rather, I did, but it was different.
And I even managed to get us home before the cleaner was finished, giving me the chance to dump the boy at the house and rush rush rush to the market because we'd run out of fruit, and also to the liquor store for a bottle of gin because I'd assumed correctly I'd be unable to live with myself for the rest of the night.
And even the gin is a matter of boring ass practicality-- it's the cheapest booze available given all the torturous prices AKP has inflicted on us. I no longer bother with wine once I figured out the day by day cost of gin is cheaper. Not drinking, or drinking less aren't options, naturally, so don't even try it.
How fucking lame is that?
The only thing that makes me feel better is imagining my future life as Miss Hannigan, thus excusing both the impatient grouchiness and the gin. I just couldn't manage to find the scene of her actually bathing in the gin.
Still, it's something to look forward to, you know?
Still, I did have to go and buy some bread this morning. And that's when I came upon just about the most delightful thing ever.
I think it's the eyebrows that are killing me. |
Though I'll be sad to see him melting over the next few days. I hope an animal comes to eat his nose before I have to see it wilting in the street for very long.
Welcome to Pessimism Street. I've been Mommy Impatient Face Grouchy Pants the last couple of weeks. And while I don't know why, I know exactly why but I'm not sharing. Still, as soon as I saw the snow last night, I decided I'd be Cool Mom and let LE play hooky from school and instead spend the day playing in the snow.
But of course it didn't work out exactly like that. First, we were super-slow getting out of the house. Next, all the nearby snow was either dirty or otherwise defiled by 9am today. I was thinking of trying to bat my (and LE's) eyelids at whoever is in charge of the fake-grass football pitch nearby and getting him to let us play in their pristine fenced-in snow, but then decided I'm not ready to face up to my waning charms, or worse, there could be a woman there, so I decided to take LE up to campus where there's way more snow, way fewer people, and a lovely friend with two little kids.
Not a fan. |
Which is just stupid, really. LE is happy with any old snow, even the greyish-brown soggy kind. He doesn't give a shit. But I still felt I needed to overcompensate for my grouchiness and be a Cool Mom, Plus, there are some newly obscured potholes filled with ice water around here I'm just not happy with.
So, I bundled LE the fuck up so much he started pretending he was that kid in Christmas Story who couldn't put his arms down. Then rush rush rush I scurried LE to the minibus, then sit sit sit I got up us to campus, then rush rush rush I walked us up to the lojman, all the while actually STOPPING the child from playing in the fresh, untouched miles of snow so I could get us to our friend's house for the pre-planned Snow Play Time. And getting impatient and grouchy with the poor fellow to boot.
At least ten times on the journey I found myself thinking, "Fuck you, Stranger! When the fuck did you become this fucking person who doesn't let the child just fucking play in the gorgeous perfect snow?" And then I would think, well, I don't want him to get too wet because he'll be cold in 10 minutes and start whining. And I don't want him to get his gloves too wet because once his hands start hurting it's game over. And when did I become this boring, mind-numbingly practical person? If I were four, I'd want to punch me in the face. So all this thinking just made me madder.
But we got up for the Play, and it was nice. And the friend and I talked and bitched and that was also nice. But then, there wasn't even time for goddamned cocoa at the end of it all because I had to change LE's clothes and rush rush rush back home in time to pay the cleaner and let her get out before the roads froze up again.
No cocoa for you! Or anyone! |
And I even managed to get us home before the cleaner was finished, giving me the chance to dump the boy at the house and rush rush rush to the market because we'd run out of fruit, and also to the liquor store for a bottle of gin because I'd assumed correctly I'd be unable to live with myself for the rest of the night.
Guess which expensive one I didn't buy? |
How fucking lame is that?
The only thing that makes me feel better is imagining my future life as Miss Hannigan, thus excusing both the impatient grouchiness and the gin. I just couldn't manage to find the scene of her actually bathing in the gin.
Still, it's something to look forward to, you know?
1 comment:
This is pretty humorous for a lamentation. Is there any woman on earth, mommy or not, who can't appreciate Miss Hannigan??
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