I reconfirmed the appropriateness of the title of this Blog today. That is, Teetering on the Edge.
For those of you who (have read this blog at all and still) think that I've got it together here's one for ya.
Mark's home this week, which is good news. Up until last night, there was a possibility of him being gone at least 2 -3 days. Since he was in town, and working at home, he was kind enough to let Nora stay home while I went to pick up Brennan and Brady from school. AJ was in the back seat, munching happily on Sunchips and soaking in another (repeat) episode of Elmo. It's his crack (Elmo, not the Sunchips, but those might be a distant second). And I am in complete violation of my no-tv-unless-we're-on-a-road-trip rule since aquiring this Elmo DVD (all of our other Elmo videos are on VHS).
I wait in the carpool line, notice Brennan and Brady exiting the buildings and line up in the queue. There are five construction cones that act as stations lining the sidewalk for the children to stand and be let into their car. Deep in thought about my agenda for the afternoon, how I am going to fit a decent nap in for the baby, and also thinking about the family who owns the car ahead of me (and how Brady and her son should really get together again and play soon). I see that she is starting to pull away, so I pull up, following her car (she was at the last station). I should be stopping at the first cone, where my children are anxiously waiting for me to end their school day and take them back home for a much anticipated snack.
So deep in thought am I however, that I continue right past my children. Not only did I not stop, I didn't even notice them standing at the curb. I made it through the round about, and almost onto the bypass that leads to the highway...and home. All the while I am thinking, "gosh, I really have to stop playing this Elmo video in the car...even the big kids are so sucked in that they don't even talk..............."
Well no kidding.
They weren't talking because:
a) they were not in the car and
b) they were slack jaw on the curb having just watched their mother drive right past without so much as a passing glance.
I turn around on the first road I could find, circle back through the round about and park on the street. Since I just threw AJ in the car without a coat, shoes or socks, I left him, locked in the car and sprinted down the hill and around the corner. It was only about 42 degrees, and quickly weighing my options, I figured it was better to leave him than to freeze him. For those of you who are alarmists, it was for a total of 30 seconds, and I could see the car the whole time, so don't go calling CPS. The kids, still hanging out by their assigned cone see me and are now laughing at me.
Thankfully they are not upset.
The teacher that was supposed to help them load into the car is laughing as well. Hysterically. Catching her breath, she tells me that the kids were convinced that they saw me drive by to which she responded, "Oh, that couldn't have been your Mother...she didn't stop!"
All I could do was hang my head in shame, laugh and acknowledge that I am a complete and total dingbat and tell the kids to sprint back to the car with me because I had left the baby.
Teetering on the edge. Yup, that about sums it up.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Little did I know that she'd be putting Britney's "3" on replay so she can figure out what all the lyrics are.
I can now completely empathize with my own Mom, as I recall her pause, (and cringe) when I asked her what Madonna was saying in "Like A Virgin." Who knew that Madonna would someday be considered tame by comparison?
In case you aren't familiar, "3" is song with a great beat and catchy chorus, but unfortunately for us parents out there, is all about having a threesome. I'm thinkin' that it's not the kind of threesome you inadvertantly get caught up in on the dance floor either (sandwiched by two incredibly creepy, greasy, and short men).
Not that you really want to have to explain what any type of threesome is to you children.
I have tried my best, and mostly successfully, to give her lots of suggestions on what the words might be, and make sure that none of them are PG or R rated. I also told her that songwriters frequently write lyrics just to make them rhyme or sound good in a song, and that the lyrics don't always make sense. She bought it.
Then, before bedtime tonight, we are having a little "Family Time" and Brennan, excited to be playing her new music for all of us, is cranking out the tunes. Fortunately, she skips right past "3" after announcing to me that she's figured out all the words.
Thankfully, they are all wrong and make absolutely no sense.
As I was breathing a sigh of relief about her botching of "3s" lyrics, I began plotting how and when to retrieve her ipod shuffle and delete the song. Just then, she proceeds to play a fun little ditty, also by Britney Spears, called "If You Seek Amy." Now, I had listened to the little soundbyte on itunes, and thought it was harmless enough...only to see Mark's eyes about fall out of his head as he hears it, and asks me, "what the hell is that doing on her ipod????"
Clearly the song must have come out while I was in some sort of post-pregnancy (which pregnancy I am not sure) hibernation. I had NO idea that there was any sort of (not-so-hidden) meaning in the song. Mark proceeds to explain the brou-ha-ha that surrounded the release of the song and exactly what "If You Seek Amy" really means......
If = F
You = U
Seek = C
Amy = well, you can pretty much figure the rest of it out on your own.
Completely appalled at my own ignorance, I am now apparantly so completely out of touch and un-hip that I am letting my 8 year old listen to the pop music equivelent of soft porn. And I thought being called a cougar was embarassing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go find that ipod. I have some deleting to do...