Katie S. 28

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  • Archive for May, 2007

    Corbin and the Women

    Tuesday, May 29th, 2007

    I am starting to think that Corbin might have a thing for older women. Several weeks ago we had three couples over for dinner, all of whom have sons in Corbin’s age group. After we finished eating, all the boys went up to the bonus room to play. All that is, except Corbin. As I was in the kitchen cleaning up, I noticed that my son had climbed back down the stairs and was now standing all alone in the dining room with his face pressed against the window. He had a massive grin on his face and was waving frantically. At first I couldn’t imagine what had my son so enthralled that he would completely forget about his playmates upstairs, but as I walked toward him I saw what (or rather who) was attracting his attention. Carie, our beautiful brunette neighbor from across the street, was standing out on her front lawn talking to her parents.

    Awww how cute, Corbin has his first crush, right? Wrong. Surprise surprise, this mother of a boy had some concerns about the girl he had chosen. Now I can see him having a crush on a two or a three year old. Potty trained women do have a certain maturity and sophistication that is hard to deny. But this crush might just be pushing the whole ‘love knows no age’ thing a bit far. I mean really, Carie is at least eighteen years old, and has just come home from college for the summer! Not to mention the fact that she has a very large boyfriend (well, maybe not large large, but large compared to Corbin for sure) who drives a big truck with a gun rack!

    So what do mothers of boys do when they are unhappy with their son’s current love interest? Why we look for an opportunity to meddle of course! And in this particular situation, I didn’t have to wait very long. Our friends Luke and Alisa came up from Atlanta and stayed with us last weekend, and they brought with them their adorable ten month old daughter Hailey. So on Saturday, as Corbin and Hailey were playing together after breakfast, I made the ‘innocent’ suggestion that Corbin should give Hailey a hug. Well much to my delight, he actually did it! He very gently put his arms around her and laid his head on her shoulder. She in turn giggled and smiled, and the whole thing looked like it should have been on a Pampers commercial. I of course was feeling quite pleased with my superior match making abilities, and was just starting to envision what their children would look like when I was jolted back to reality by an indignant shriek. Haily had gotten hold of Corbin’s toy cell phone and he was less than impressed. He lurched forward to reclaim his toy, but I stopped him just in time and moved him out of reach. We repeated this sequence several times until finally it started to sink in that Mommy was trying to teach him the oh so tricky lesson of sharing.

    This is when Corbin had his epiphany. Very slowly he stood up, and walked back over to Haily. He gently wrapped his arms around her and laid his head down on her shoulder just as he had done before. But as soon as she released the phone to reciprocate this gesture of affection, Corbin reached down and quietly retrieved his toy, all the while keeping his other arm around her so as not to raise any suspicions. When the hug was over Corbin walked away, cell phone in hand, with a Cheshire cat grin on his face. And poor sweet Hailey just sat there smiling, having no idea that she has just been pick-pocketed. After I got over the initial shock of seeing my one year old son con an innocent young girl, I too had an epiphany. Perhaps Corbin knows what kind of woman is best for him after all. Apparently only a much older, more street smart girl would be able to keep my manipulative little hoodlum in check!

    Corbin + Hailey small

    I Love It, I Love It Not

    Monday, May 21st, 2007

    I love it: Eating pizza and ice cream on Monday nights after I get finished working out.

    I love it not: That cup that has been living in the dishwasher for at least three weeks because some shmutz got heat dried onto it and now it will never get clean, unless of course I take it out and hand wash it. But hand washing is really just so passé.

    I love it: Coming to the end of a lazy Saturday with my boys and realizing we didn’t turn on the television or answer the phone once.

    I love them not: Cyclists

    I love it: Getting to that stage in a book where you can’t put it down, and staying up half the night because you just have to finish it.

    I love them not: Telemarketers who call during dinner.

    I love it: Reconciling the bank accounts on Quicken to the penny and then putting all of the expenses for the month on a pie chart and comparing our spending habits to previous months. Yhea, I’m serious. I would have been a great accountant if I wasn’t totally inept when it came to math.

    I love them not: Telemarketers who call ever.

    I love it: There is this show we just discovered on G4 called “Ninja Warrior,” and it is pretty much the best, most totally awesome thing that has ever been on television, ever. Picture the Strong Man Competition…but with Ninjas! People come from all over the world to compete in these absurdly difficult obstacle courses in the hopes of being named Ninja Warriors. Only two in 1700 contestants have actually made it through all the challenges and earned the title; and as far as I know they didn’t get a trophy or a ribbon, or even a 25% off coupon to Burger King. Apparently knowing in your heart that you are a Ninja Warrior is reward enough. One of the best things about this show (besides the totally nerve wracking challenges, and the super cool feats of strength and mind altering agility exhibited by the would-be warriors) is the announcing. The announcers speak in Japanese, and the English translations are hilarious. Where an American announcer would say, “OHh! You know that had to hurt,” the Japanese announcer will say, “Falling from the monkey climb at this stage in the competition has pierced his honor like the sting of a thousand hornets.” I cannot say enough about the greatness that is Ninja Warrior. Do yourselves a favor and watch it (channel 55 on cable…and if you don’t have cable, just let me know and I will record an episode and send it to you…that’s how committed I am to spreading the word about this, the most wickedly awesome of all shows.)

    I love her not: Oprah.

    Yes I know it’s a bold, perhaps even reckless statement for a stay at home mom to make. And yes it is true that I am somewhat prone to making outrageous claims just to elicit a response, but I honestly think I can back this one up. I’ve only seen her show a handful of times, and each time her complete ignorance about the subject at hand and her constant interrupting has irritated me beyond belief. I mean why bring guests onto a talk show if you’re not going to let them talk? I do not read her magazines, listen to her XM radio station or heed her book recommendations. That is not to say I have never read any of the books on her book list, I’m just saying that if I did it wasn’t because she told me to. That’s right Oprah, you don’t own Gibbons or Morrison, or even Alice Walker, and further more….you’re not the boss of me! Granted she is a great philanthropist, but it’s not exactly like the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing if you catch my drift. Don’t get me wrong here, I wholeheartedly believe that building a school in Africa is an incredibly generous way of using ones’ resources, I’m just saying that a one hour prime time special and a dramatic ratings hike seems to me like a mutually beneficial undertaking. (I’m being excommunicated from the suburban housewives club as we speak.)

    A Commentary on the Socioeconomic Stereotypes Perpetuated by Disney’s “Mickey Mouse Club House”

    Saturday, May 12th, 2007

    Yhea, I’m just kidding. But the title is provocative isn’t it? And Donald Duck does have a pet chicken named “Boo Boo chicken.” Which is kind of like if I had a pet German. And in one episode Donald sells Boo Boo to the giant that lives in the clouds. Which is kind of like human trafficking, but with fowl. Just something to think about.

    Snot snot everywhere…

    Wednesday, May 9th, 2007

    Corbin is screaming in his bed right now. He is on his 13th day of being sick with a virus that turned into a double ear infection, and we are now on antibiotics for the second time in three months. The problems with a sick toddler are many.

    1) The snot is everywhere. On his face, on his clothes, on my face, on my clothes. On the furniture, and the carpet and the dog. Its all over the place, and no amount of Lysol spray or Clorox wipes can change it. It is powerful and permeating, and mysterious.

    2) Even though I know Corbin is sick, and you know Corbin is sick, there is no way of convincing Corbin that he is sick. Instead he believes that the entire world has just taken an unexplainable turn for the worse, and the only way to counteract it is to push through as if nothing was wrong. He still runs and climbs and plays full force, crying hysterically and oozing disgusting fluids all the while, but playing none the less. That’s right Corbin, don’t cuddle, don’t sleep, don’t even slow down! “Rage rage against the dying of the light!” That’ll show ‘em.

    3) Feverish children frighten me, and fear causes me to give into my child’s every desire. “You don’t want to go to sleep? OK honey, we’ll watch Baby Einstein for the 15th time today instead. You don’t want to drink from a cup? OK honey, I’ll give you sugar water in a bottle, that shouldn’t be too hard a habit to kick when you are well again. You don’t want to sit in your high chair? OK honey, I’ll let you wander around the kitchen table begging for bites off of other people’s plates as if you were Helen Keller (pre Annie Sullivan of course). You don’t feel like having your diaper changed? OK honey, you can play with this jar of Vaseline and smear it all over your face and hands to distract you from the fact that you are “letting” me change your bottom. (Oh what a lucky woman I am!) In short, I am creating a tiny, snotty monster. He’s like Napoleon with a cold.

    4) As I would prefer not to incur the wrath of my friends, neighbors and countrymen by further infecting the population, we haven’t been able to leave the house for any significant amount of time, or had any healthy socialization in weeks. This makes us both stir crazy. And punchy. And grumpy. And sleepy. And many other dwarfs that shall remain nameless.

    5) He’s still screaming, which means that even sick, his resolve is still stronger than mine. This is definitely a problem. And one I guess I should address now.

    The Luv

    Friday, May 4th, 2007

    Okay so I just finished reading The Notebook, and this weekend Chris is going to be in a wedding, (I love seeing that man in a tux!) so lets just say I’m in a kind of romantic/nostalgic state of mind lately. So I decided to post an old journal entry about my sweet, goofy, completely unexpectedly perfect for me hubby. Its amazing how God’s plans are always so much better than mine.

    I always pictured myself with someone tall, dark and brooding. And this guy in no way fits the bill. More Zack Morris than Jim Morrison, he thinks that introspection is for people with nothing better to do with their time. He is a man of action. Not only does poetry not drip from his lips, but nine times out of ten it has to be explained to him. And even then he doesn’t really get what all the hype is about. Yet there is just something about him. Something way too warm and familiar to be the kind of tragically passionate love I had always planned for myself. But something that draws me to him just the same.

    I’m having fun. That’s what it is. The realization makes me feel shallow, even silly. Surely I can’t fall for the fun guy! Where is the angst, where is the torturous love affair I just knew was in store for me. Surely I am above enjoying an evening of cartoons and slice and bake cookies, and the thrill of holding hands on a roller coaster. He brings out the child in me. The one that I never indulged even in my actual childhood. Who knew that optimism and happiness might just be my thing after all.