Emma-Bug

I've sold my soul....

I'm on Facebook.  I know....evil, evil, evil.  Join me! Come and be my friend.

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.  Those who don't believe in magic, will never find it."

 

There are times when the light is dim and the little one is tucked warm in her bed that I sometimes let my mind wander to what it would be like to live a much simpler life. To not be required to wear this or that for a job or covet silly, unnecessary things that are really only...things. Things that stack up around you and require you to dust them, that weigh you down like a water logged blanket, that emanate that internal buzzing noise so you're unable to think clearly, hearing only you should, you must, you need to.

I want to want less, need less, to simply be. Exist quietly. To wake in the morning and throw open shutters to cool breezes, to grow food, hang laundry in bright sunshine, maybe have a chicken or two, bake bread. Even I'm surprised to hear myself say those words.

I feel bogged down in my should, must, need to's lately. I have a nagging feeling it's all unnecessary and all those time suckers and clogging things are really my weight, my anchor, my self burden brought to the forefront because somewhere I felt....I felt it was necessary or even, mistakenly, needed.

I will promise myself once again, one more time, that a simpler life, a quiet life filled with the beauty and chaos of a twirling, growing girl, of a husband who has stood by me since childhood. Forget the coffee makers and furniture and clothes and things.  I will make more soap, open the windows more, breath deeply and try to find magic.

 

 

 

 

In which I calmly and rationally ask, what the fuck is wrong with people?

Halloween is my favorite holiday. A delightful and pungent mix of pagan delights that freak out the staunch, Raise Your Hands to Jesus for You're Going to Hell hardcore Christians mixed with the goodness of Kit Kats wrapped in adorable costumes and carved pumpkins with a month of creepy movies on the tv. What is not to like about that!? There is nothing not to like, it's all awesome! So where or where did it get all kinds of fucked up?

Remember when you were a kid and spent HOURS trick or treating? I carried a pillow case for my candy! A freakin pillow case! It was an all night event and I was out for hours hoarding candy like an addict. And if the old smelly dude down the street didn't hand out candy at his house, well then he was promptly TP'd or eggs decorated his front porch, hence the TRICK part of the ryhme! .....(not by me of course because I was a delicate fragile flower of a child)

When did people stop giving out candy? No, no, that's not even it.  When did people stop giving out candy and become douchehats about it? The fling open the door and scowl at the children while they hiss "NO CANDY"? Why'd you even answer the door you killer of children's fun whore??

Are you taking a picture of me? I will suck out your soul through your nostrils if you don't put that thing away pronto! I am in NO MOOD!

The disappointment was mammoth! Of the 30 or so houses we went to around our block, maybe a third of them were participating in what USED TO BE A REALLY FUN HOLIDAY FOR KIDS YOU MISERABLE OLD ASSBAGS, WAY TO CRUSH THE SPIRIT OF A LITTLE GIRL.

*****sigh*****

So we went home and made tater tots to sooth our bummed spirits. 

Next year baby girl, we're high tailing it out of his neighborhood and away from its zombie retirement home inhabitants and we'll go someplace fun...then we'll come back and mommy will show you how to TP a house!

 

 

 

 

Met her on a monday and my heart stood still, da doo run run, da doo run run....

Everyone, I'd like you to meet 6-year old Emma....

Despite my insistence that she smoke and drink bourbon at each meal, her growth has not been stunted. She is a big ball of might this girl. She will quickly and easily tell you that she knows everything and will become a flaming monster of pissed off if you counter her. She is at once both fiercely confident and heart breakingly fragile.   She's forging her path in this world and gaining strength in each step she takes.  As her mom, I try so very hard to let her walk a step ahead of me, proud of her accomplishments, at finding her voice.  But MAN OH MAN there's this other side that just wants to scoop her up and carry her, to protect her from all the terrible and hurtful moments that growing up will serve to her on a platter.  Do you realize some guy, some idiot kid will break her heart one day, shattering it into a million pieces?  Some bitchy, poorly parented girl will belittle her and take a small piece of her self esteem for herself and and there's nothing I can do to save her from that? That's a HONKING bitter pill to take!  I try to remind myself that with all the bad there is just as much beauty, and maybe, just maybe if I do my job right right she will be drawn to that beauty and it will overshadow some of the hurt.....ok, let's be honest here, the first dude who breaks her heart will be picking his balls out of his teeth.

She started kindergarten this year. Several people, which may or may not have included my husband, eyed me up and down as if I may at any second become hysterical and lock Emma in her room with some goldfish and a giant watering tube. I really thought I had it together, I was all cool and collected and "pfft, NO I'm perfectly fine. this is so exciting for her" and then all but lost my ever loving shit the first day.  She was sitting at her little table in her little chair and it was so a CLASSROOM and....turning and walking out that door all but ripped my heart out.  I didn't let her see me though, I barely escaped in time with a "Mommy's gotta go, I love you sweetie".  It should be noted I was the last parent in the classroom to leave. They're lucky somebody didn't have to drag me out of there while screaming MAH BABY, MAH SWEET BABY!

Speaking of embarrassing my child (and you knew I would) all the kindergartners meet in the library before school where they line up and go back to their classroom with their teacher.  I would walk her in and wait while she got lined up and went back.  But now, NOW, nononono she does not want me waiting.  It's apparently uncool, I'm uncool.....  "Just drop me off and leave mom", "you can go now mom", "GOD MOM JUST GO".  Oh OUCH! I make sure to say loud and proud "ALRIGHTY HONEY, I LOVE YOU, KISSES BABY, I'LL SEE YOU TONIGHT!" as she tries to melt into the carpeting.  Next year I'm going to drop her off with curlers in my hair. Mommy wins! 

She will tell you that Justin Bieber is her One True Love.  We have his toothbrush People, it plays Baby. I've caught her playing her Barbie guitar and singing to his poster in her room and I'm telling you, if that's not love I don't know what is.  I mean, I admit I was skeeved OUT at first because, really? Bieber? But then in a rare moment of clarity I had visions of my childhood bedroom, the sun shinning bright through the curtains as I laid on my canopied bed listening to this, over and over and over.....

.... the Shaun Cassidy 'Da Doo Run Run' album. Sweet Jesus on Toast I was in LOVE.  Stared HARD at that album cover for many, many hours.  He was so cute and ..... well....slightly effeminate if we're being honest. 

Ohhhh I get it.... he's her Shaun. Gotcha.  Sing away my little squirrel. He's lucky to have you.

While we're on the topic of childhood crushes, one can not continue without....

Oh Andy, Andy, Andy...you are not forgotten. Your chest hairs still shine bright.

Remember how I used to talk about Emma's twirling?  She still does it...

 

Untitled from stephanie v on Vimeo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Homecoming

Apparently if you, shall we say.... "go away" for a few months, you will return to a fairly good amount of spam. It's reminiscent of coming home and finding your house filled with deviants. There's a chick riffling through your closets, some asshole security dick is hassling people at the front door and OH LOOK! Gross, some greasy dude with bad english is fingering all your food.  Go away spam people, you are not welcome at my Miss Havisham-esque blog!

Sooo. Yeah. Hi.

My name is Stephanie. I am married to Mark. Our daughter is Emma. This is Emma-Bug. 

A wee bit about myself, just to bring you up to speed:  I was once known as the great infertilini because...you know? the none production of zygotes and it's older more mature sibling, embryos and stuff....which quite frankly was kind of a downer. I say once because....fuck I don't know, it's not like I'm sprouting them now, as a matter of fact I recently had my ovaries removed due to alien like cysts of doom so....now with 100% more infertile with a side order of bioidentical hormone replacement! Hence the adoption of said child from large, hot, humid place of communism and heavenly noodles.

Moving on...

Mark, the saintly husband? Still around. I have no valid reasons for explaining this, for I? am difficult but god bless him, he's a trooper.  Everyone give a clap for Mark.

Emma. The Bug. The Mighty Ems...Still wonderful and almost 6 (on Friday godhelpme). She's incredibly bright and funny has been known on occasion to be cantankerous.  She frequently rolls her eyes at me and has taken to mumbling "lame, mama" under her breath. She is also a foo-foo princess of unicorns and glitter and honestly BUMMED AND SHOCKED that she does not have magical powers - like we've somehow cheaped out on her. GO PICK UP PIXIE DUST AT WALMART FUCKERS!

So here's the thing.....the batshit is back bitches, belly-up. I've missed this.