Wednesday, July 23, 2008

I, Napoleon



You know the Rose is Rose comic, with the little guy named Pasquale? She's got an alter ego who is a bad ass biker chick with roses tattooed on her thighs. We all have alter egos, don't we?
Mine is Napoleon. I'm sure of it. Not only am I ridiculously short, but I have a penchant for making rules and a strong desire to take over the world. Or at least a few small countries.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Good Things Come to Those Who

Yeah, yeah, I heard something about patience but I can't quite remember it at the moment. So, I've been waiting a whole ^@#%&! week to hear the final decision about the job. Mother Theresa would have flipped out and smacked someone from the stress already. But no, every day I wait and wait some more. Every day we're told that tomorrow, certainly tomorrow, there will be an answer. Then the next passes with no answer, but more reassurances that tomorrow, this time we mean it, we'll review everything and make a decision.
*sigh*

I ran out of books to read. I hate that. Then that nice man I married tells me this morning that he had put David Sedaris' new book on hold at the library for me, picked it up, and has it waiting for me. It's the little things, you know?

Belly went back to the dentist last week for another baby root canal and a pre-fab silver cap. If he keeps going like this, he's going to have a Lil' John grill going by the time he's 6. I'm sure the kindergarten teacher will love it.



My sister in law is in Mexico visiting my in laws (who will wonder why WE haven't yet gone to visit) and since she's a very nice lady and has watched my children many, many times, we agreed to dog sit for her. She has a black lab named Louise. She's a sweet, gentle dog. Things were fine for a few days. I had picked up all of Eva's toys before Louise came over, as I didn't want them fighting over anything. Well, Louise found a rawhide chew thing and Eva went after her. Eva got a small scratch on her face, which made me very sad. The two are fine again, but I'm a little wierded out.

Yesterday I had a strange feeling. As a mom (and wife, let's be honest) you spend your time doing things for other people, or making decisions based on other people's interests ahead of your own. Cooking, cleaning, deciding what movies to watch, weekend activities, vacations, laundry. Your life is all about taking care of other people. And I'm cool with that. I'm a mom, that's what I do. Suddenly yesterday I felt overextended, and I yelled out there there should SERIOUSLY be more than one mother's day each year.

Not that anyone paid any attention to my outburst.