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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Why are people like that?

Last night on his way to take Annie to volunteer at school, Mike ran out of gas. After he called to let me know, I grabbed the gas can and went to the rescue. There was very little gas in the can, so I stopped at the gas station to fill it up.

As I was getting out of the car, a very nice silver car pulled up next to me. The driver, a well-dress, good-looking fellow with a map in his hand leaned his head out the window and said "Excuse me, ma'am?"

"Yes? Can I help you?," I replied?

"Well," he said, "I'm trying to find downtown Dayton."

Oh buddy, was this guy lost! He wasn't even in the right state. Lucky for him that he asked me because I grew up in Dayton and this was his lucky day.

He went on to say "I was driving on 1-69 and realized that was the wrong direction, so a truck driver pointed me this way. But now I'm turned around and I'm almost out of gas and down to just about my last dollar."

Did I mention he was holding a black, leather-bound Bible in the other hand as he was talking to me?

Seeing this as a divine or cosmic opportunity to help someone just as I hoped someone else across town would do for my husband, I told him I'd be happy to put $20 of gas in his car. He smiled, thanked me and said that $20 would be good -- he could get some gas and some McDonald's.

"Oh, wait," I said. "I don't have any cash. I'll swipe my card in the pump and get you some gas, but I can't give you any cash."

"You don't even have something small?" he asked.

"Nope. I don't carry cash."

"Well, would it make a difference if there's an ATM machine inside. You could go get some money?"

I finally woke up and was angry at this jackweed for obviously lying to and trying to take advantage of me. I was also mad at myself for even giving him the time of day.

"No. Sorry." I turned and walked away. He drove off, just as far as another row of gas pumps to hit up some other naive person (who was smart enough to say no right off).

I'm left wondering how people decide it's ok to lie and be dishonest and try to scam people out of things? I am a nice person, but next time, I probably won't be so nice. 

In the meantime, if some guy in a nice silver car, Tennessee license plate B60-65M asks you for help, just keep walking.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Because I'm a woman of my word...

even if my word is reluctant, which in this case, it totally is.

Ten days ago, I was all excited about a date night with Mike. I had bought a new dress and felt, dare I say it, sexy in it. I promised details and pictures when the evening was over.

The date itself was fun. We went to a fundraiser for Joy's House, an adult day facility, that is near and dear to our hearts. I'd forgotten how many people we know who also love Joy's House. The food was good -- best banquet steak I've ever had! We stayed within our budget and were able to contribute a little bit directly to Joy's House, but also came home with a cool trio of paintings for our sunroom.

What was not fun was having Annie snap our picture before we left. Well, the taking of the picture wasn't so bad. It was the looking at the picture on my phone just after. Holy cascade of chins FatWoman! It's not that I'm not aware of the fat that I'm carrying around. My I don't usually have to look directly at it. And seeing it in the camera roll on my iPhone, it made me feel just the opposite of the sexy I had been feeling. It made me feel ugly and unworthy.

So that's why I didn't share the pics here or on Facebook.

But as I said, I'm a woman of my word. I've eaten and sat my way into this mess, so it's time that I own it:

It's a far cry -- and about 50 pounds from this picture, one of my favorites when I felt "skinny," even though I still had about 40 pounds to lose:

So, now I'm left with "what do I do?" Maybe I'll put both pictures on the fridge and in my bathroom and in my car as inspiration.Maybe I'll do nothing and just be frustrated and uncomfortable for a while longer. I'm stuck in the excuse phase, you know the one where you can come up with 100 reasons for why something can't be done? Yeah. That's where I am. 

But those 100 reasons are starting to butt up against the 100 reasons why I am so unhappy with my body the way it is. I'm not making any promises or big announcements. I'm not jumping on a wagon and inviting anyone along with me. 

I just AM right now. And soon, I'll have to move in one direction or another. I know where I need to go. I know where my head wants to go. But the inside part of me, that's the part that needs convincing. And unfortunately, the only convincer it will listen to is me. 

So today, I'm living up to my word to share the picture from date night. Maybe the very public admission of how I went from sexy to sad will ignite something. I guess time will tell.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Sometimes marriage looks like this (after 19 years at least)

I was planning to wax philosophic or at least sentimental tonight because Mike and I are celebrating our 19th wedding anniversary. But I decided to share a slice of regular old married life.


(Phone rings.)

She (at the office) said: Hey!

He said (through gritted teeth and with frustrated voice): If you are going to insist on locking all the doors at home, then you should make sure there is a key hidden outside somewhere.

She said (confused): Uh, ok. Why?

He said (still frustrated, a bit more vigorously so): Because people have to be able to get in the house.

She said (trying to remain even-toned, but probably sounding sarcastic): Huh. When I want to get into the house and it's locked, I use my housekey.

He said: Well, I can't find my keys. And now I wasted my entire lunch hour driving home and I can't get in the house because you have to lock all the doors. I know it's my fault I can't find my keys, but still there should be some way for a person to get in.

She said -- well, nothing at first because she was still trying to figure out how locking all the doors when you're not at home is a bad thing.

Then she said: What do you need?

He said (impatiently): I need the ointment for my foot.

She said: Why don't you just go buy some at the store?

He said:  Because I can't find my wallet.

She said -- nothing, again. But she thought to herself, "I am so blogging about this."


Eighteen or 19 years ago, I would have been really annoyed by this scenario. I might have even jumped in and escalated it to a real fight. I'm not sure if it's wisdom or wear, but yesterday when it took place, I just laughed (and ok, plotted a minor bit of blog-worthy revenge.)

Yep. It's not all sunshine and lollipops. And it's not all sneers and sarcasm. It's life. And in the grand scheme of things, it's good.

Happy anniversary to my huzzzband.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Hot date!

Well, it's a date, anyway. And not just a night of sharing popcorn and not talking to each other at the movie theater. Tonight, Mike and I are going to a bonafide soiree -- a black tie shindig. I even shaved my legs for the occasion. (And the few toes that required it, too.)

We just made the plans to attend yesterday, so I hadn't given much thought about what to wear. (This will not surprise my college roommates who were privy to my last minute "what to wear" freak outs for sorority dances.) When I did think about it today, I began to hyperventilate just a wee bit. There was NOTHING in my closet that would qualify as "formal."

Dress Barn to the rescue! They actually had a several contenders in the social occasion dress category. I had Robbie with me. He waited outside the dressing room and I would come out to show him each option. I really thought I was in trouble when he said "Mom, that's really weird" at the first selection. But he was able to help me narrow it down to three choices.

Not wanting to leave my fashion fate up to a nine-year-old who believes socks and underwear are optional, I asked the sales girl to help me decide from the final three. The winner is a deepish v, front and back, with some rusched fabric under the "girls," followed by a black and gray sequined skirt.

I actually feel kind of sexy in it -- as long as I don't look in the mirror. Looking like you have a pumpkin shoved up your dress is cute when you're pregnant. Not so cute when your "baby" is almost 10-years-old.

But that's an insecurity for another night. Tonight is date night. I'm wearing a pretty dress and make-up -- it's been months since I've worn make-up. I have on panty hose and dressy, but comfortable, shoes. I'm carrying a black lacy evening bag and wrapping my shoulders in a silk pashmina.

And I'm going out on the town with the man I said "I do" to 19 years ago this Tuesday. It's all good.

(I'll post pictures later. My carriage awaits.)

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

When the school nurse calls

and tells you that your son said he hit his head on the floor in gym class and is now in the clinic, do you:

a.) Gush, "Oh my baby! I'll be right there."
b.) Ask rational questions about his current symptoms.
c.) Want to know if there were any witnesses to the alleged fall.

Does it make a difference if you are new to the school and the school nurse doesn't know you yet? So she doesn't know that you really are a good mom but that you are also wise to a kid who likes attention and dislikes school.

Does it make a difference that your child recently wrote a report on concussions and is reasonably well-versed in the symptoms of concussion?

To be fair, he did head straight for the couch when we got home and hasn't moved from that spot. The TV is not on and the iPod Touch is not within reach. We have an appointment at the doctor's office at 2pm. But I'm still a little skeptical.

Of course, I've been wrong before.

UPDATE: According to the pediatrician, the diagnosis is mild concussion. No gym or physical activity for one week. She said she didn't think that there was anything severe going on, but that he did get his bell rung pretty hard.