my first kiss.

His name was Philip Goodew. His hair was bleach blond and he was skinny... like most first graders. I don't think I found him cute. I don't know if "cute" mattered at six. He was a friend and since our last names shared the same first letters we were always put next to each other in school. (I think we must have been in kindergarten together too because I remember for halloween 1985 he was a monkey and the zipper got stuck so he ended up peeing his pants... or monkey suit as it were... while Mrs. Wolfgram was reading us a story.)

He was riding his bike past my house one day and I flagged him down. We swang on the homemade swing my dad had made that hooked onto a beam in the garage. We then went to the backyard and picked the small flowers that grew in the grass. Looking back maybe they were probably weeds... but when you don't mind which plants grow in your grass then a flower is a flower. With all the gumption in the world I leaned over and gave him a peak on the lips. He didn't have a reaction so I assumed it was okay and I leaned in and gave him one more tiny sterile kiss.

For a week we sat next to eachother at lunch. He gave me a big plastic ring that he probably stole from his little sister. We played together on the playground... standing together making up crazy stories they whole recess time.

He moved away sometime later. And I wonder if asked about his first kiss if he remembers the little six year old with a straight red hair kissing him behind the garage or if that's something only girls remember.

I was reminded of this story only because some of my friends now have first graders and before I know it I too will have a first grader... who I will make note to keep out of the backyards of little girls unattended.

Date Night

I have a date with my son tonight. The only way I got him to go up to his room to take a nap is to tell him about all the fun we are going to have going to see a movie IF he takes a nap. As I was rocking him he was almost asleep and all-of-a-sudden he looks up at me and says "We get popcorn and juice boxes!" The simple things in life are the best.

I had planned the trip to the grocery store all day... right after the baby wakes up we'll go. The baby decided to sleep longer than usual. I should have known the way my toddler screamed as he was torn away from Ruff Ruffman that this was NOT going to be an easy trip, but what can you do when you couldn't even serve a peanut butter sandwich to your family for supper let alone the sinful dip you pledged to bring to a get-together that night.

So we were off.

I won't bore you with an isle by isle recap. But I will tell you that the if-you're-good-you'll-get-a-cookie-before-we-go cookie was never obtained. And for me to with-hold that, especially knowing the even bigger tantrum that would ensue... why I don't think it's ever been done. But for the most part I am keeping my cool. The bread is smashed with a hole in the bag. The bananas look like they've aged six days in the last 45 minutes and the plastic "bag" they are in would no longer considered a bag in most third world countries . I don't think there's one potato chip still in original size in the bag. One of the cokes in the six pack has been pulled off. A can of artichoke hearts dented. As I checkout EVERYONE is aware of our presence.. even the guy in the back room running the forklift listening to his ipod can hear is blood-curdling screams for a sucker. As we leave I have the baby in her huge slippery snowsuit bobbing under on arm.. I'm not even sure if she's right side up at this point and my toddler decides he doesn't want to leave so I am literally dragging him by the arm.. oops.. by the sleeve.. ohhh.. by the hood.. he's running towards the store and I'm dragging him the opposite direction trying to get out of the middle of the road. Literally dragging him. I some how make it to the car. I tell him to wait by the car. No luck. He's off. I try again. Same outcome. Now he thinks he wants to sit in the middle of the parking lot. I drag him to the baby-side door.. try to fish the keys out of my pocket.. baby is slipping and her 23-odd pounds feel like 60. I have no choice but to hold my toddler against the car with my leg.. he escapes.. runs in front of a car pulling out.. I scream bloodymurder for his life. Grab him again.. place him in the same leg-up hold. I can only imagine what the world is thinking. And because I'm always afraid of being perceived as "that" mom it's always in the front of my mind. White trash just wouldn't match my purse. But just as I finally reach the keys in my pocket... dangling 11month old in her puffy armour... screaming toddler pinned against the car... my body contorted in a position last seen on a Cirque du Soleil dancer... a van pulls up, window rolls down and the lady calls to me "I just wanted to tell you that I think you are just a wonderful mom" She pauses to seemingly hold back tears "It really touches me." I just smile and throw up my one free arm and she drives away. I don't know what she saw... or more so the things she would have had to have missed in order to make that comment. But it gave me the strength to pick up my toddler and just hold him and rock him and whisper it was "all right" for a minute in the middle of the parking lot to settle him down instead of just throwing him in the car. Because that just might be what a "wonderful mom" would do.

Almost important enough.

I lost my phone two weeks ago. I've conceded --it is gone forever and I need to take a trip to my local cellphone retailer to pick out a shiny new phone sans all of the important numbers I've collected over the last twenty or so months and all of the priceless dark fuzzy pictures. Atleast at this point I HOPE it's gone forever and that I don't find it in some car crevice as I'm driving home from said cellphone retailer.

Ben was telling me that his work may have discounts on things like blackberries. A blackberry! Wow.. My mind has never ventured to that side of celebrity texting devices. I wonder if the blackberry has a nice electronic calander so that I can pull it out at any time and make plans and I would know right away if those plans conflict with early plans made. No more guessing. No more emailing people back to reschedule. How my life would be so much simplier! I would have to research--visit numerous websites and sort through countless user reviews and make sure I was getting the best one! This was not a move to be taken lightly afterall! And then compare that with other simular devices on the market. Know just the right questions to ask the cell phone man. What if I lost this one! Loose a blackberry! That sounded like an emergancy! -- "Gather a search party--sixty men in their prime, peak physical condition and a pack of government trained search and rescue dogs-- a blackberry was lost! We will not sleep until we find it!" My self-worth would surely go up... for my life was so important that I needed a blackberry to keep track of it all and to keep abreast of the latest.. everything! I could suddenly feel that this day may be one of those rare turning-point-in-life days second only to the day, sophomore year in college, that I went to the local mall and picked out my first half pound phone only cell phone. I had been the first in my family to do it--simular to those who are the first in their family to graduate highschool. Yes. Even with a discount a blackberry may be a little expensive, but think of all I would be gaining. It would be worth a week of ramin and pb&j. The thought of being so technically advanced.. definetly worth it.

And then it hit me--I could just choose one of the "free" phones and start carrying my four-dollar-two-year-pocket-calendar. Nevermind.

I found out today that a friend lost her baby. She was 13 weeks along. I hope she knows that I was completely sincere when I told her that I would be praying for them continually today. It's all I can do, but it's the best I can do.

I am reading a fiction book right now... the first fiction book in awhile. Lately my library check outs have been along the lines of "liberal fascism" and the fiction books before this were probably cheesy Christian fiction about amish or movie stars. I find that when I read fiction I start narrating my everyday life as if I were writing it in some book in my mind that will never materialize. Is this normal? I've never asked. I am going to bed early tonight just to read. Well that and Ben has homework so I can't use the computer to catch up on my tv watching.

I. AM. RO. BOT.

I don't know how Zachariah got so interested in Robots. I'm assuming some PBS cartoon had robots on it some time or another. Everytime I asked him about halloween or his birthday (two days apart) he, without miss, mentioned robots. At first, being the girl that I am, thought "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Not an ishy robot!" But I got over myself and set out to make him a Robot costume.


He loves it. He even chose to wear it watching tv.... the 15 minutes of tv that he's allowed a day ;)...


The problem... he can only wear it for a for a few minutes before he gets tired--with his arms sticking out of the side and the trillion batteries straped to the inerds... so we'll see how long it will last. We're going to boobash tomorow and I'm not quite sure how that is going to work. Maybe he will just wear it for the costume contest.

On a more edible note ... I made fall cookies.

In part because my best lady friend had a delicious little boy. And in part because I am just wasting away and need to consume as many empty calories I can get my hands on.

I just realized that it's 4 o'clock and I didn't eat lunch. How does that happen? I'm off to make some potato soup for supper.