Pajama Monologues

Friday, December 27, 2013

Your Definition Of Weird Is Weird

Mom: What are you doing?

Me: I’m texting my friend, Dave.

Mom: What about?

Me: We’re discussing which McDonald’s is the best in town.

Mom: Do you agree?

Me: Yep. The one on Duncan and Kirby is by far the best McD’s in town.

Mom: You talk about weird things.

Me: You have no idea.

Mom: I think I don’t want to know.

Me: Good call.

Bananas And Coconut Oil

Hanging with two of my Illinois besties tonight, and this is what I learned:

Suzie’s favorite fruit is a banana.

You should always have two bottles of coconut oil.

Some Grandma’s say the “eff” word. I am going to be an excellent Grandma.

Being the designated driver can be a lot of fun, especially if you get to drive Suzie’s car. It can go very fast. I know this because I got home in the exact amount of time “the” Google maps said I would. Maybe a little early, at one point I was doing 31 in a 30. My true friends never let me drive, unless they’ve been drinking and have no other choice (this goes for Americans and Canadians).

There are different types of baths.

If you tell me you are from a family of 5 or more kids, the next question out of my mouth will be “Are you Catholic or Mormon?” I will also send a prayer up for your very, very tired mom.

The phrase “I’m going outside my comfort zone,” is said a lot when people are around me.

There are people in this world that do not use a box to make cakes. They actually make it from “scratch”. These people are not normal. I stand by my rule: if I have to add ingredients, stir it and bake it in the oven, then it’s homemade.

I Prefer Curtains

Wow!!!!

I did something yesterday afternoon that I haven’t done since Emily was in 1^st grade.

I went to a soccer game. A football game if you want to get all fancy on me.

If I have my way, I will not go to another soccer game.

For two reasons…

I’ll get to those in a minute.

When Emily was six we signed her up for Pee-Wee soccer, because that’s what you do in Seattle. You sign your kid up for a sport where you are guaranteed to watch every single freaking game in the rain.

Regardless, it was so cute to watch a bunch of little girls chase around the soccer ball or in Emily’s case, look off into space until someone yelled at her to “get the ball”. She would wake-up, look around, and then realize that, not only has the ball gone past her, she has no idea where it is at that moment, so she would just return to never, never land.

Like I did Sunday, years ago one of our best friends came out to watch Emily stand there. Thanks Mr. Pat for your patience. You were a trooper.

Way back then, we thought little girl soccer was cute. Then we realized that Emily’s level of participation could go on for years and years then it wasn’t so cute anymore.

We yanked her.

Since then, I’ve always tried to “guide” my girls into sports that support my level of comfort. I like buildings. I like controlled temperature. I like guaranteed bathrooms.

This past Spring, Olivia asked me over and over if she could play soccer. I finally asked her if she knew what soccer was and she informed me she didn’t, but all her friends play. Off to The Google we went to check out YouTube videos of soccer.

She watched it for about 10 seconds and then turned to me, “Yah, changed my mind. I don’t want to play soccer. I didn’t know you had to run (Is she my kid or what?).”

My response? “I know, right? There is sooooooo much running. I think the games last over an hour and you have to run the entire time. Sometimes it’s raining, or snowing or there is lightning, and soccer is a tough sport so they don’t make you get off the field when there’s lighting, they just tell you to duck (Yah, I lie. So what?)”

“What about tornadoes? Do you get to hide from tornadoes?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Sorry sweetie, just lay on the ground.”

“Where will you be?”

“In the tornado shelter, obviously.”

And that was the end of all that soccer business. Thank God!

While I watched the game yesterday I made 10 observations:

1. It is a lot easier to watch a soccer ball than a puck.

2. The shoes are awesome!!! I like all the colors.

3. I don’t understand why goalies don’t wear facemasks. Those balls are kicked really hard.

4. Unlike most sports, soccer fans sit as close to the field as possible. It is a very big field and the chance of having the ball in your general area is slim, but it does happen. And it DID happen. I believe a couple screams, ducking behind Becky and some choice swear words came out of me.

5. I am glad I am not a physical therapist and I have to watch my kid play soccer. I would spend the majority of my time thinking about the hours and hours of rehab that could be in her future.

6. According to Becky, you can trip someone if you pretend like you are going after the ball. I would practice this move all the time, in the hopes that I would trip as well. I know you think I’m crazy to say this, but let me tell you why I think this way. When I was in high school I would go on the ski bus with Matt and Susan. My favorite part of skiing was catching a ski, losing control, and tumbling down the hill in a chaotic arm and leg, flailing fall. It was awesome!!!! I figure getting tripped in soccer would be the same, but a lot smaller fall. There would still be a feeling of being out of control and that would be a fantastic! Thomas said I should ask Abby if she agrees with the whole feeling of “weeee, this is fun”. He thinks she’ll say, “Umm, no. It’s just falling. It’s really not that fun. You fall and you get up and you run after the ball.” If she said this I would worry that Abby doesn’t know how to live on the wild side. I would need to intervene. I wonder if Becky and Gary will let me take her on a road trip to Aspen. She’s pretty athletic, I think she can do a black diamond on the first day or I can trip her and she would have a really fantastic time, falling down a mountain.

7. Apparently, there IS walking in soccer, either that, or those were some really lazy girls.

8. It is absolutely terrifying to watch two girls dive head first toward each other. What the hell? Why would you teach them to do that?

9. The players can get a concussion and probably a fan can as well, because they sit too close to the stupid field. I found this article. Check it out and then petition for helmets. http://www.sacbee.com/2013/07/18/5573656/tips-for-keeping-kids-safe-from.html My favorite question in this article is: Girls high school soccer is second in sports-related concussions. Why do you think that is? My answer…because they’re getting hit in the head with the BALL!

10. You have to yell, “Turn and Burn”.

Also (this is not a #11), nobody passed out from all the exercise and they all seemed to be smiling. It was weird.

I was gasping for breath just watching.

And then Abby did what I’ve been told Abby does. She scored a touchdown, except there was no point after kick, which I find very confusing because I thought it was football.

Nice job, Abby. It was fun to watch you run, although you seem like somewhat of a slacker, because you didn’t run up and down the whole field the entire time. This concerns me about basketball season. If you don’t have the stamina for soccer, how on earth are you going to keep up in basketball? You need to work on that.

And…

Reason #1 why I won’t go to another soccer game…it is constant exercise being thrown in your face for over an hour. There was apparently a half time (It lasted about a nanosecond. Justin Timberlake did not sing.), which screwed me completely up, and I started freaking out because Abby was kicking the ball the wrong direction and I was afraid she would score and then hang her head in embarrassment. I started yelling “The other way!!! Abby, the other way!!! Becky!!! Tell her to turn around!!!” Then you know what happened? Abby tripped and fell and she didn’t even laugh, so I’m really thinking a road trip is necessary.

Reason #2…apparently David Beckham retired.

Run, Abby, Run

Wow!!!!

I did something yesterday afternoon that I haven’t done since Emily was in 1^st grade.

I went to a soccer game. A football game if you want to get all fancy on me.

If I have my way, I will not go to another soccer game.

For two reasons…

I’ll get to those in a minute.

Like I did Sunday, years ago one of our best friends came out to watch Emily stand there. Thanks Mr. Pat for your patience. You were a trooper.

Way back then, we thought little girl soccer was cute. Then we realized that Emily’s level of participation could go on for years and years then it wasn’t so cute anymore.

We yanked her.

Since then, I’ve always tried to “guide” my girls into sports that support my level of comfort. I like buildings. I like controlled temperature. I like guaranteed bathrooms.

She watched it for about 10 seconds and then turned to me, “Yah, changed my mind. I don’t want to play soccer. I didn’t know you had to run (Is she my kid or what?).”

“What about tornadoes? Do you get to hide from tornadoes?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Sorry sweetie, just lay on the ground.”

“Where will you be?”

“In the tornado shelter, obviously.”

And that was the end of all that soccer business. Thank God!

While I watched the game yesterday I made 10 observations:

1. It is a lot easier to watch a soccer ball than a puck.

2. The shoes are awesome!!! I like all the colors.

3. I don’t understand why goalies don’t wear facemasks. Those balls are kicked really hard.

5. I am glad I am not a physical therapist and I have to watch my kid play soccer. I would spend the majority of my time thinking about the hours and hours of rehab that could be in her future.

7. Apparently, there IS walking in soccer, either that, or those were some really lazy girls.

8. It is absolutely terrifying to watch two girls dive head first toward each other. What the hell? Why would you teach them to do that?

10. You have to yell, “Turn and Burn”.

Also (this is not a #11), nobody passed out from all the exercise and they all seemed to be smiling. It was weird.

I was gasping for breath just watching.

And then Abby did what I’ve been told Abby does. She scored a touchdown, except there was no point after kick, which I find very confusing because I thought it was football.

And…

Reason #2…apparently David Beckham retired.

A Horse's Ass

For five extra credit points in Religion class, I will get up at the buttcrack of dawn to attend mass.

I will do ANYTHING for any amount of extra credit points in the 4^th grade science class.

ANYTHING!

I’ll even stick my arm in a live cow.

I’ll feel its stomach wrap around my arm and tighten and contract.

I will have a momentary flash of panic that I will be sucked into the cow and come out the other end as part of a cow pie.

Yah, that happened. The flash, not the cow pie.

ANYTHING!

I’ll even take an “I Love You” picture with Stephanie and a horse’s ass.

Notice I said “AND”.

I’m definitely NOT saying Stephanie is a horse’s ass.

She’s actually my favorite person because she poured hand sanitizer all over my hand and arm (I know I was wearing a glove, but condoms break, why can’t a glove?)

I’m just pointing out that we were standing next to a real horse’s ass.

Is that not the coolest thing? The bones, not the horse’s ass.

Loved the open house at the VetMed.

I’ve said “horse’s ass” five times in this post.

Here’s my thoughts about that…

“Mom, if I can say “jackass” and it’s an animal, actually from the equine family, the same as a horse, can’t I say “horse’s ass” without offending someone?

I say, “YES”.

So mom, using my logic, it’s okay to push “like” on this post.

FYI everybody, my mom has class and doesn’t swear (well, rarely), so she won’t push “like” on any of my posts with a swear word…no matter how much she likes the post.

Right, mom?

And that’s why I like you.

You have morals and you stick to them, even when I’m funny.

Horse’s ass. Not my mom, the picture.

You Are In No Way Apollo Ohno

A great double date last night with Thomas, Erin and Andy…

That’s right, Andy’s a fireman. You know what this means…I have connections.

I suggested over dinner that I help with the next training of firemen and they can practice the fireman carry by toting me around.

I have watched a YouTube video and it doesn’t look particularly comfortable, however, the hand position is just fine with me. I’ll just have them tweak a few things, like maybe have pillows on their shoulders.

I am really excited about being hauled up in the air. I can only imagine it is kinda like what they do in college cheerleading. A throw and a catch, except they’re catching me with their shoulders. It might be a little jarring.

I just had an awesome thought. I was a cheerleader in high school and I might still have my uniform. I could wear it!!! Of course it will absolutely fit after three kids and three large Cokes a day for the past 23 years, right? They stretch, I’m sure of it, now to find it. I wonder where it is, hmmmm.

Besides, I think firemen might be a little more motivated to rescue a girl in a cheerleading outfit than Tweety Bird pajama bottoms.

This reminds me of a story… (if you know me well then you know that when those words come out of my mouth you never know what will follow and you usually groan).

A few years back Thomas would take the girls and slide them between his legs on the kitchen floor and then pull them back up and throw them in the air. I so wanted to do this and begged Thomas to try with me. I begged and begged. I can be quite persuasive. I promised to not talk to him for 2 whole hours and he caved. Yes!!! I know his weakness.

It would be like we were swing dancing on “Dancing With The Stars”, and I would be Julianne Hough and he would be Apolo Ohno and we would win the entire competition. It would be awesome!!!

I was super, super excited and he was holding my hands and he had the strangest look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing. I was just wondering if we had the back support brace we used when we were moving the furniture into the house.”

“Why on earth would you be thinking about that right now?”

“No reason,” he paused, “but do we still have it?”

“Dude, I have no idea. I’ll look for it when we are finished with our dance. Are you planning on bringing that huge ass entertainment center up from the basement? I told you that you need to ask the neighbor. He is as big as a mountain and super strong. You cannot do it by yourself. It is way too heavy.”

“Yah, that’s kinda what I was thinking. It would be too heavy,” he said dryly.

“Ok, here we go. Wait. I should find some music. Do you know any swing music songs? We really need to get into the feel of the music. They say you need to feel the music with your soul in order to be a good dancer,” I was swaying and swishy around the kitchen.

“Krista, we don’t need any music. Just get over here, let’s just do this thing. The anticipation is too much to take,” he sighed and looked at me with another strange look.

“Oh my gosh, we will probably totally rock this and then we could start taking dancing lessons and in “Dancing With The Stars” they are always doing lifts and we could learn that next. I am so excited,” I was jumping up and down.

Thomas took my hand and I smiled at him, he half smiled at me and then he pulled me down between his legs and I let out a laugh and I slid through just like Julianne and then I stopped and he let go and went flying forward.

“What the hell was that? You forgot to pull me back up!”

“Woman, you almost killed me!”

“YOU ARE NOT IN ANY WAY APOLO OHNO!”

“WELL, YOU ARE NOT IN ANY SIZE, SHAPE OR FORM JULIANNE!”

“You know what this means, right?” I asked in a very calm voice.

“Yah, you are going to constantly talk at me for 2 hours,” he said and then under his breath he said, “and I’ll be unable to walk tomorrow.”

“Try 2 days, dude, two days and you are going to buy me a necklace, because that’s the price a man pays for CALLING HIS WIFE FAT.”

“Fine, buy the stupid ass necklace. I have been married to you so long I know when to stop talking, and that was, unfortunately, about two sentences ago,” he shook his head and headed toward the stairs.

“You just did it again! That’s right, I’d walk away if I were you! Actually, I’d think about running!”

A Bronx Tale

I was inspired.

Years ago I watched a movie, and I only remember one scene.

I described the scene to Thomas and asked him to race me to see who could find the name of the movie on The Google.

I used these key words: dad tells son to see if the girl on the date unlocks his door for him when he walks around the car and looks in the back window quote movie.

I am always a woman of few words.

Yah, his search words were: dad son girl unlock.

He had it before I even got to “date”.

Whatever.

And from a “Bronx Tale”…

Sonny: Alright, listen to me. You pull up right where she lives, right? Before you get outta the car, you lock both doors. Then, get outta the car, you walk over to her. You bring her over to the car. Dig out the key, put it in the lock and open the door for her. Then you let her get in. Then you close the door. Then you walk around the back of the car and look through the rear window. If she doesn't reach over and lift up that button so that you can get in: dump her.

Calogero 'C' Anello: Just like that?

Sonny: Listen to me, kid. If she doesn't reach over and lift up that button so that you can get in, that means she's a selfish broad and all you're seeing is the tip of the iceberg. You dump her and you dump her fast.

That one scene changed the way I looked at things. I try to do things for others that are not about me, but about helping somebody else. Like the scene in the movie, it’s the little things that matter just as much as the big things. They define your character.

From Friday Night Lights…I remind myself of this daily…

Coach Taylor: I know that and you oughta be proud of that. I am. Your teammates are proud of you. It's about character. It's about striving to be better than everybody else.

Vince: Coach, my dad just got out of prison. He's staying with me at my house. And I can't stand him. My mom she asked me to forgive him, to be better. And you're asking me to be better. I don't know how to be better because he never taught me how! He never taught me to be better! He's not around. And I'm supposed to be better!?

Coach Taylor: Listen to me. I said you need to strive to be better than everyone else. I didn't say you needed to be better than everyone else. But you gotta try. That's what character is. It's in the trying.

Damn, I love that show.

Anyway…

Last Friday I went to pick up tickets from the movie theater. I was in a very big hurry and as I was walking toward the parking lot I got stuck behind the slowest, slowest 60ish year old couple. We were on a narrow walkway so I couldn’t dart around them. I watched as they slowly walked closer to each other and then their hands casually brushed and he took her hand and they looked at each other and smiled.

They noticed me behind them and moved over to the side. I said thank you and I popped around them and took off for the van. When I was in the van I fiddled with my phone and when I glanced up they were getting in the car directly in front of me. They walked up to the passenger door, he reached down and opened it, she turned and looked at him and they smiled. He touched her hand as she slid on to the seat. He walked around the back of the car. In today’s modern world, he had already unlocked his door when he unlocked hers. So she performed an acrobatic move and actually climbed all the way over his seat and pushed opened his door. He got in and they looked at each other, and once more shared a smile.

I was mesmerized. I sighed. I was inspired.

“You need to strive to be better than everyone else. I didn’t say you need to be better than everyone else. But you gotta try. That’s what character is. It’s in the trying.”

Today I strive. Today I build character. Today I inspire others.