Parenting Advice

Let me tell you about my lovely afternoon at the post office today. While Emma was at gymnastics, I ran to the post office to mail something and pick up an express for Michael (which by the way was not very express as it had been sent over a week ago--thank you efficient United States Postal Service).

It was just me and the two boys. Evan was behaving remarkably well but Isaiah was in complete meltdown mode. No amount of bouncing or switching positions was working. I tried not to make eye contact with too many annoyed customers and blow it off by saying that he just didn't like waiting in line. This might be true. After all, it makes me want to howl when I have to wait in those excruciatingly slow postal lines.

So as I was waiting, some lady came up to me and handed me a piece of paper on which she had written: Quantum Touch, Richard Gordon. "You should check this out," she said, indicating my screaming infant.

I'm sure she is a very kind woman. I'm sure she meant well. But this sort of rubbed me the wrong way today.

Now if I were a humble, teachable gal, one who was slow to anger and willing to receive instruction, I would probably be thinking now, "Oh, thank you so much kind lady. You are right. I need the wisdom that quantum touch offers. My baby is howling not because I had to wake him up to take my daughter to gymnastics or because he needs a diaper change or because he's coming up on a feeding soon but because I am inept as a mother. If only I knew how to create a high vibrational field of life-force energy and direct that healing energy on him, he would be calm. Thank you for showing me the way to Richard Gordon."

And I would be telling all of you pathetic, negligent mothers whose children also scream and misbehave in public to get it together and learn how to amplify your chi so you can shut those kids up because they're driving everyone crazy.

But I am not humble or teachable so I am not thinking or saying any of this with anything but sarcasm. I know, I know it's not very Sunday School of me to be that way but at least I'm honest about it.

I am also by nature a skeptic, so these types of approaches to healing usually leave me doubting. However, because I think she did mean well and because some of you may have a little more faith than me, here's the link: http://www.quantumtouch.com/.

Get back to me if it works. But please, not when my baby is screaming.

To My Unsympathetic Husband

Dear Michael,

I think you are a very kindhearted individual. I know you value life and don't like to hurt most living creatures (with the exception of mosquitoes, cockroaches and cats). And I know that when you say you will take care of the creepy crawlies that come into my house, you are really setting them free in the greenbelt behind the house.

However, tonight your sympathy was misplaced. I was the victim, not Sammy. I was the one who was so scared and startled she screamed and nearly dropped the garbage on the lawn, not Sammy. I was the one in danger of being bitten, not Sammy. Sammy is not the innocent party here, so stop defending him. Is he like your new BFF or what?

The first time I told you that Sammy had come around, you said not to worry. Sammy was just passing through. But when I swung the gate open at dusk today to throw away the garbage, Sammy was back. And he was very very very rude to me. This is what he did when I opened the door on him:

Exactly like that. In fact, that is actually his very own picture. Yep, say hi to your BFF Sammy. And how did I manage to get his picture? Well, you will never believe this but there happened to be a National Geographic photographer who was hiding in the bushes snapping pictures of cardinals and as soon as he heard the hissing he ran over and shot off a roll for me.

There it is. Now what do you have to say?

So it's obvious that Sammy has taken residence at our house and is behaving very badly, hissing, staring me down, making alarming sounds as he slithers away.

As I see it you have two choices, Mr. Snake Lover. It's me or Sammy. Take your pick.

Love,

Kasey

P.S. If it makes you feel better, perhaps you can keep him with you at all times...on a nice pair of boots. ASAP!!!

Now Scheduling House Tours

An appraiser came to look at our house today. By golly, you would not have believed how quickly I hauled my gargantuan frame around in a whirlwind of cleaning and picking up. I was amazing. It was like someone lit a fire under my bottom. In two and a half hours, I managed to vacuum, clean the bathrooms, playroom, laundry room, master bedroom, office and front porch and throw a load of laundry in and fold a load of laundry plus several other miscellaneous tasks that I will not enumerate.

I don't normally get through half of that in two and a half weeks. Nope, not even for company such as Michael's live-in family or Michael's lawyer or Michael's civil engineer. Sadly, no. Usually, I'm like, "Hey, do you mind stepping around all the toys on the stairs?" Or "Don't mind the piles of laundry and pieces of cut-up paper and stale bread crusts and plastic bags and Superman figurines and cups of water and pieces of scotch tape and children's underwear scattered randomly across the house. Oh, and if you'd like a sanitary bathroom experience, I'd recommend peeing outside. Thanks, it's nice to see you too."

These days I usually settle for one space in my house looking cleanish and call it good. But it felt so nice today to have a straightened-up house once again. It is a sad commentary on my slothful nature that the only thing that bestirs me out of my lazy chair is someone taking a tour of every nook and cranny in my house. If only someone would take a tour of my house every week, I might be able to avoid falling back into the pit of squalor from whence I came.

So to keep this clean thing going, I am now scheduling free house tours. Yes, that's right. Hurry and act now. Just email me back with your preferred day and time. And please make sure to ask to see all closets and drawers. Don't miss out on this exciting opportunity!

She Flies Through the Air With the Greatest of Ease

I'm thinking of changing the name of my blog. How about "My Other Job Is With the Circus"? Yep, I've decided to travel down a whole new avenue....trapeze artist.

Here's what I did on Saturday night:



So Michael got this great idea for us to learn how to fly on the trapeze. The Crossings Hotel had a trapeze group there for a few weeks that was offering trapeze classes. Michael, of course, was peeing his pants he was so excited. I, however, am a little--shall we say "uncomfortable"--with heights and wasn't quite so enthused. I kept trying to get out of it. No such luck.

We arrived at the class and they started us off on the low bar. You have to grab the bar, wrap your legs around, drop your arms, etc. Just the basic playground stuff. We all got one shot to do that and then they explained how we were going to do this at 50 feet in the air.

Before I knew it, I was climbing up a very narrow ladder to a very small platform and trying not to look down. Granted, there's a net below and once you reach the top, they hook the safety wires onto your harness. Still, we're talking 50 feet in the air leaning forward with your toes over the edge. That was definitely the scariest part. Once I hopped over the edge and started flying, it was fun.

We got to do two runs on the trapeze and then they let us try the catch, which is where another person catches you in midair.



Ooops. How embarrassing. Somebody was supposed to spin around in midair and catch the return trapeze. Maybe I'd better stick with the CIA. I guess it's not bad for my first time though.

So now that my feet are firmly planted on the ground, I can say I'm glad that I tried it. I did something that scares me and am now a little less scared...hopefully.

By the way, for all you ladies out there, the best part is that it's the closest thing you'll get to having a "rescued-by-Superman" moment. You're flying in the air, feeling a little nervous and vulnerable, when suddenly a buff, handsome man rescues you and says, "Come with me." I was like, "Ok, whatever you say."