Dancing Without Rhythm

At 12:23 AM I was awoken by loud thumping above me. I awoke so abruptly that it was hard to turn over and fall back asleep. Fortunately for me, if I had, I would have missed these pearls of wisdom yelled in an obvious fight in the apartment upstairs. My first introduction to our new neighbors...
"But money cain't buy you luuuuuuuuuve, it cain't. buy. you. luuuuuuuuuuve!" I had so many thoughts on that subject in the wee hours of the morning that it was impossible to go back to sleep. Money can buy me love at this point in life. I loooooove minivans. I love personal trainers. I love dropping $300 at Target without batting an eye. I love a non-traveling husband. I love chefs. But since we can't afford any of these things, I have to disagree that money can't buy you love.

It really is all beside the point because well, it wasn't my fight, I was in fact eavesdropping. And if any man used that line on me in an argument about money, I think I would have MUCH bigger problems in my life than no personal trainer.

At 3:52 AM when I was still staring mindlessly at the neon numbers on my clock, I tried to chant myself to sleep, "money cain't buy you sleep either, money cain't buy you sleep either..." but that also was unconvincing in my gravitus insomniacal state.

At 6:40 AM Avee woke me up yelling for the "doe" to be opened. This is the same girl who figured out how to not only reach doorknobs she shouldn't be reaching, but how to turn them, over a month ago. The first time, she declared to all who would hear, "I got out!" And so she has, time and time again. Buuuuuut, she got some catch-up immunizations yesterday, 2 shots in each leg, to be exact. She was quite the trooper about it and fortunately got in some good running around before she took a nap and the stiffness set in. And today she has declared herself an invalid and insists on being transported in my ever-lovin' arms from place to place. When I do insist on her walking, while assisting her of course, she walks like a bowl-legged toddler who just experienced the world's largest movement. And I'm not talking Beethoven's kind.

While driving to pick up Benja from his once a week "Little Learners" class, I spotted an unruly white hair, growing from MY head. I plucked it out and swore. Avee imitated me 5 times before I got to Benja's classroom. I thought I had learned my lesson with "dammit" at the bishop's house with Benja when he was 2.

I went shopping at Target today and I was clearly the token "I Just transferred from Wal-Mart" shopper. There were 67 other moms there with exactly one child just like mine, within at least 6 months in age. And 32 of them were about as pregnant as me. However, I was the only one who's daughter was singing loudly about "daddy's" and "cute shirts" and I was the only one wearing faded maternity sweatpants with an unmatching yellow sweater that I got at a second hand store 3 years ago. And I can't remember if I brushed my hair or not, but I definitely had the scroungiest hair either way. In my defense however, I was NOT the mom who was saying to my 2 year old, "Are you sure you want this yellow bus? It's just like the one you have at home, but it is your birthday money." This surprised me for several reasons. I thought "birthday money" for children under say, 8 years old was actually code for "hey mom, go get yourself a little something." Am I wrong?

I just read this first paragraph over the phone to J because it made me laugh out loud. He says, "And instead of jail time, we will instead let everyone know what you've done."
How Embarrassing.

That's all. I have a 22 month old whimpering for me and a 44 month old throwing dirt at people. And I'm hungry.

Posted by Angela on Tuesday, February 06, 2007 at 2/06/2007 | Permalink