I composed this letter to my children while I watched them today. It’s a rough draft, something I’ll re-write for years and years, but for now, a little weepy/emotional/slightly irrational and disgusting “Dear God Bring On The Dot Soon” post. (The “dot” brought to you by my good friend Karen who made me nose air when I heard it. Oh, Nose Air? That thing you do when you’re IMing someone and not really laughing but giggle through your nose, affectionately coined by MIchelle and I. Now, where was I?)...
To My Children,
I won’t apologize for talking a little too loudly, for disciplining you a little too often, for making you turn off the TV. I will keep dancing with you in the living room until we’re sweaty and breathing hard. I will continue asking for a snuggle and then asking for another. I will laugh with you in the bath when your hair stands straight up in soap and I will sigh a deep love sigh when I see you sleeping on your dad.
And one day, when time seems to stand still in the long long weeks, days, hours before your first born is here, I hope you remember those things and not the times I lost my shit.
But know it’s ok to lose your shit.
And then remember why you had children in the first place.
And know you are loved by your old crazy mother who could never say it enough but means it more than you know.
That’s right, it’s the blog experience you wait for with baited breath. It’s here: Friday. And that means in blogland, it’s Friday Flashback.
(For some reason I can only hear Casey Cassum speaking now as I type so excuse the extra layer of cheese in this post. It’s late and my brain has been infiltrated by an 80’s pop radio countdown host.)
Brought to you, as always, by the lovely Catherine and Tracey, todays challenge is to post a photo of an object that is near and dear to you. Rules: No, don’t post your children. For real? We know that. We read your blog. It’s a given. Also, it must be an OBJECT. As in, something you’d grab in case of fire. Bonus rule: If you can find something from your childhood, we will lick you.
So here it is: Behold! The
shreds of my youth:
Yes, that used to be an actual blanket that made a perfect square. It started breaking down in the 80’s during my angsty elementary school years. God those times tables are stressful. Sometimes a girl needs a lovie. And yes, 7 years old is probably too old for a blanket. But meh.
Also, another blanket I have a photo of me as a baby on (which I’ll probably post later when it’s not twelve o-freaking AM)
This one wasn’t really a part of my life in my memory, except through pictures, but because of those photos, I held on to it and somehow managed to dig it out when we had LB. And now.. another generation.
Baby O June 2007.
And then my heart exploded.
Other fun Friday Flashback Posts that are must reads:
(lists coming soon and updated as soon as I can)
And! Since it’s Friday, how bout a little Bonus Haiku?
I really can spell
At midnight it’s difficult
To proof read my crap
So much blog meta
Reminds me what day it is
And ignore my kids
More Haikus at one of my favoritst bloggers evah.
I’m really not sure if I should, you know, SAY something here? Or if that’s too tacky? I don’t want to be tooting my own horn but this would be a much improved kind of toot than the norm in my house. And if I don’t say anything at all, is that ungrateful? Because that is, for sure, not the case.
I don’t know if y’all remember in February when Blogher ran the writing contest, “Share your plans for living healthy in 2008 and win a trip to BlogHer 08”. I saw, I entered, and then plum forgot. Because I do that a lot. Forget things, that is. Plus I never win anything but it’s always worth a try, isn’t it?
Except this time was different. Someone picked my post. Some-ONES picked my post, I mean. And to them, I can not exclaim with enough SHIFT 1 SHIFT 1 SHIFT 1’s just how thankful I am. (!!!!!!!!!) So thank you. I am beside myself, both humbled and thrilled and in every way appreciating it. And also dancing in the living room. A lot.
Please go read the contest posts from everyone and get re-inspired to keep your goals this year.
And to those of you going to BlogHer… I will see you there!!
I’ll be joining y’all on planet earth again after this high wears off. Which should be, oh, July 22nd or so.
I’m learning where the older sibling “Look at me!” syndrome came from.
This week’s flashback has a new, and thought provoking, theme. “Where were you when…?” The prompt comes via Cahterine and Tracey, “Our parents’ generation can recall exactly what they were doing when JFK was shot - it’s a cultural moment that defines a generation. What big cultural event occurred during your childhood/youth that you recall clearly, if juvenilely? What was its impact on you?” Living only 15 minutes from NASA in Houston, this is the first thing that came to mind. The Challenger.
I remember being in class, Mrs. Pear’s Class, Fifth Grade. As usual on launch days, she ushered us in to the library where several of the older classes sat around the large color TV (the ones with the huge antenna and turn knobs for channel surfing) while we waited for the controller to count down. “10 - 9 - 8” We all counted with him. “7 - 6 - 5” Several of the students’ parents were astronauts or worked at NASA. As a community so close to it, we were large supporters of the space program. “4 - 3 - 2 - 1” We all yelled “LIFT OFF!” and watched the familiar ball of fire lift from the ground.
Then, and I remember not seeing it happen, as I turned to my friend and started talking, someone gasped. Someone else yelled out “NO!” Then, as I watched, the ball of fire broke off in two and fell to the ground.
And then it’s really a blur. Since this shuttle was the first to launch the “Teacher in Space” program, our school was even more affiliated with this historical day. One of our teachers had been chosen a finalist for the position, we had reporters in our school and were instructed not to talk to them. The day went on and on. There was confusion and sadness. We knew we were supposed to be sad, all the adults were sad, but we didn’t really understand what was happening in our elementary school.
A few days later there was a memorial at NASA. My Mom picked up my sister and I from school and told us we were going to stop by. I remember not wanting to go. All my friends would be in gymnastic now. “But I can’t miss gymnastics!” I said. At 11 years old, my world revolved around me, my friends, and me again. This huge historical event and the TV cameras, press, and news paper journalist weren’t of any importance. What I really wanted, was for everything to get back to normal.
But we did go, my Mom tried to instill a bigger perspective in my fifth grade brain than the tight self-inclusive one I was in. And she took this picture, which I think says it all.
Other fabulous writers participating this week:
*If you partake in this challenge, please include the list of participants here so we can support you!
**In doing some research for the names of programs and such, I found an artticle where my princaple, Mary Ward, told reporters we didn’t watch the explosion and that each student was told individually. Interesting. That’s not how it went down at the time. I’m sure it sounds better in the paper that way.
I’ve been a bit saucy, what from being cooped up in our house for three gdayammothereffing days. And, what with being cooped up and all, I use my only outlet to the Real World: Teh Internet. So, you may, or may not, have received emails including the following verbage. And if you did not, by god, consider yourself lucky.
I’m hoping to pass off my children today so I can go get some, you know, actual work done since working from home is like sticking my face in a cement mixer and trying to add.
God, that probably got tossed to spam the minute I typed whorish. Or maybe panties. Or LOOOK! You can have a GIGANTIC PENISSSSS.
Let’s just make this all official since I already have his balls in a mason jar.
And, because honestly, this was supposed to be a wordless Wednesday but I’ve been cooped up with a child who DOES NOT HAVE RSV OH, NO NO, HE HAS A RUNNY NOSE AND IS TEETHING AND WOOOPS! THAT’S OUR BAD so instead you get blahdyblahdyblahblablaahhhhh. From me. To you. With Love.
And a photo.
You know those trend starter types? The ones who can make waking up in the morning and posting a picture of themselves, Sans makeup, cool? The ones who can say, “Ppppssttt, you should do it TOOOOooo” and you go “OK!”
So here I am, all muchtoogodforsaken early without caffeine, makeup, or a shower. Or Sleep. Because last night was a marathon of Rock-Snuggle-Rock-Lay-CRYCRYCRY-Rock-Snuggle-Lay repeat.
Hot, aren’t I?
But! I hear you, BUT! Mrs. Flinger, don’t you have a decent camera? What’s with all the horrible lighting?
Yes, Dear, but I do not know how to USE my camera. And also? Please reference the muchtoogodforsaken early portion of the post. And yes, let’s all focus on the lighting. Because it’s easier to explain away than the Ferra Fawcett Hair Style.
Go enjoy these other amazing women who bare all. Well, from the neck up, that is.
Wanna play along? YES! YES YOU DO! Why, I’m so glad you asked! Just copy the participant list in your post so we can revel in our raw-ness together, mMMMK? And dahling, you look lovely. Really.
Other Brave Women! Get listed, lemme know you played along!
Shaz (who took down her picture, silly girl)
The Cheese Blog
Did I forget anyone???
Update 3/20 I thought I’d try again since the light was horrible. Here ya go. Again. Me. Looking slightly more awake because WHEE! I get to go to STARBUCKS today. Caps! Exclamation points! Galore!
- See these stimulating related posts formerly on mrs.flinger - I’m the seventh grader with hairy legs
There’s a big discrepancy among my friends that makes me need to post a question to you. It’s of dire importance, naturally, as I wouldn’t waste your valuable, precious time if it wasn’t.
If there is a men’s room and a women’s room, both the exact same except the sign on the door, do you wait in line for a busy women’s room?
Or do you go to the men’s room?
I ask because once, as a very very large pregnant woman, I stood in line at Starbucks for ten minutes behind a mom with a preschooler and three old ladies while some woman decided to “drip dry” in the single ladies room. One man after another popped in front of the line, whipped it out, did their thang, and left leaving the very large pregnant lady, the three old women and the preschooler perplexed.
And also very stupid.
Since that day, I will not wait in line for a bathroom that I feel confident is cleaned often, contains no nasty urinal, and mostly almost exactly matches the one across the hall. With the caveot, of course, this does not, no ever, apply to a gas station…. Obviously.
So? What do you do? Hold it and wait? Or wiz and go?
I was recently asked if having two children was worth it. After all the sleepless nights, the PPD, the jealous older sibling bit.
I finally have a way to express my answer:
I’d like everyone to say hello to Mr. Flinger and Sister Flinger: Both of whome decided, after years of asking, “Hey, you wanna read something I wrote?” decided THIS week was the week to start reading ye ol’ blog.
Hi Mr. Flinger! Hi Sister Flinger!
Already, we know Oma, the In-Laws and several clients read ye ol’ blog.
And one day, ye ol’ kids will.
I’m sure of it because she’s just like me.
So, Internet, I ask you, do your Real Life People read your site? And have they known about it? And have they, let’s say, gone, “ppffftttttttt” for about four years and suddenly decided, “hrm. blog…” and logged on and read and read and reeeaaaadddddddd?
Good for me.
In other news, I’m invited to an 80’s prom in which I WILL wear my supah cool boots from 1987. Oh, hellztotheya! (Is that so 2004? is that done with? crap, I dunno. Hellz to The Yea, baby! Living 2004 like it never dies! :: cough ::) With any luck I’ll get my bangs to curl half up and half down. Oh the angst! Oh the friz! Oh to the Aquanet!!
12 guests here now.