October 17, 2011

Imagine a penguin looking in a mirror.  Now, penguins have personality.  Doesn't really matter how symmetrical the beaky little penguin features are, there's just something charming about them.  So this penguin, looking in a regular ol' bathroom mirror, gets a pretty good view.  Our little penguin friend sees a charismatic little face attached to a reasonably flexible neck, and with this partial and therefore skewed vision of his little birdy self he heads out the door, feeling both cute AND adorable.

Now imagine that our friend the penguin is confronted with a sneak reflection.  Walking up to the doors of the grocery, perhaps, or in the windows of a passing car.  Now he sees all the way down.  He sees what those extra silverfish have been doing to his wobbly penguin thighs, and what effect that second mackerel has had on his doughy penguin bottom.  Suddenly our friend no longer feels cute and adorable.  Rather he feels plump like a turkey, ready for Thanksgiving.

And he's not supposed to BE a turkey.  He's SUPPOSED to be a PENGUIN.

This story is an allegory.

In case you didn't get that.

Charlotte is a tiny little sneak thief.  Today I got them both settled with their breakfasts of choice; Charlotte asked for Oatmeal and Elliot wanted Kix (milk on the side.)  Elliot finished about half his bowl, and then announced a sudden need to visit the restroom, so I helped him out of his chair and helped with his Pajamas (mostly he can use the potty himself now, but footie PJ's are hard to deal with when you lack coordination and body awareness.)  When I came back I found an amazing thing.  Charlotte had vacated her booster seat, crawled off the bench, under the table, up into the Captain's chair Elliot was using, and had coolly polished off both milk and most of the rest of the cereal.  She had her cheeks stuffed to overflowing, and 3 or 4 Kix in each hand.  When I said to her "Charlotte, are you stealing your brother's breakfast?"  Her response was unintelligible, but exceedingly cheerful.

Or, as cheerful as one can be, when one is using one's mouth as a personal moist Kix distribution system.

Greetings, fellow homo sapiens!  

Yesterday I was in a horrendous mood.  Today I feel better!  The sun has come out, and that's delightful, but you know what the best part was?  I checked my book on Amazon, and someone I DON'T KNOW wrote a review of it.  A good one!  Of course, I suppose it could be someone I know in disguise, but I choose to believe it was a stranger.  Of course, she said she'd be looking for more by me, so I think maybe I need to stop typing this email and get back to writing my next book...

In just a few weeks I'm going to be turning 33.  In the mythology of the JHC (aka, my family)  33 is a portentous age, the age when you finally, at long last, become an adult.  You understand everything, know what you're doing, and you can magically suck liquids through a chopstick.

It's fine if you don't understand that last one.  You're probably just not 33 yet.

Anyway, with my impending adulthood nigh, I am beginning to think about all those years when I yearned to be an adult.  When I was positive that all the good times in life were being had between the hours of my bedtime and midnight (they were, that wasn't a lie).  When I was positive that when I was an adult I could eat popcorn whenever I wanted (also not a lie, but not as gratifying as I thought it was going to be.)  When I was sure that being an adult was, in every way possible, better than being a kid.

That last one was totally a lie.

Don't get me wrong, there are awesome things about being an adult.  Being one now (or, almost anyway) I can safely say that I would not voluntarily go back in time to when I was a child, unless I could hop about at whim (be a kid for 15 minutes and then zip right back into grown up land again.)  But it isn't uniformly better.  And when my children inevitably say to me "when I'm grown up I won't..."  I will say right back to them;

Don't be in such a hurry to grow up.

Being grown up means that when the dog poops on the floor YOU have to clean it up.

It means that the dirty laundry, full sink, and disgusting bathroom, none of which you made messy yourself, are on YOUR to-do list.

Being the grown up means that when everyone is sick, and someone HAS to go to the store, you sigh and get the car keys.

Grown-ups empty the trash, the compost, the recycling, and the mouse traps.

Being grown-up means that you have to listen to someone else's side, even when you are mad at them.

It means that you have to say you're sorry first, even if you weren't the most wrong.

It means you don't rub it in when you're right.

So, yeah, bedtimes suck, and it's nice to be in charge of your own choices.  But don't over look the charms of being in charge of nothing and getting to act your age, when your age gives you license to run free.

Just saying.

***

Do you live with someone?  If you don't now, have you ever?  It is a truth of life that living with someone is frequently difficult, and the more intimate your relationship, the more difficult it is.  Therefore room mates that never see one another might rarely disagree, while a couple will fight frequently.  It just recently occurred to me that having children is a bit like moving in with someone new for the first time.  Sure, there's that honeymoon period, where they can't talk and have very few opinions, and as long as you're with them they're pretty content.  But soon they start to have wants and demands of their own, and you find your ways and manners clashing.  And it is a VERY intimate relationship - possibly the most intimate you will ever have, so on a scale of "Don't care enough to fight about it" to "I love you so much I will beat you to death if that is the only way to make you see the light" it comes in way closer to the second one.  It's really shockingly like moving in with a significant other.  It varies in two highly significant ways, however.

1) The inequality in the relationship is permanent and absolute, and therefore you can NEVER expect them to suck it up and be the bigger person.

2) If it all goes sour, no matter what happened, everyone, including you, will think it was all your fault.

***

I keep dreaming about a couple people I haven't seen in a really long time.  In these dreams someone is with them - a person I've never met, but is significant to them in some way (parent, child, partner, whatever.  You get the gist)  In the dreams the other person disapproves of me A LOT.  I find these dreams both weird and disturbing. 

Now, if I haven't seen you in a while you may feel free to think that I am talking about you.

If I've seen you recently, I'm not.

Of course, one's definition of "recently" can vary so greatly, that's what makes the game fun!

Anyway, if you know something about dreams and the subconscious mind, please, feel free to tell me what my mind is saying.  If you happen to be someone I have not seen in a while, and you have a person of importance to you that really dislikes me, please feel free to tell them I've gotten the message.

If you live within four hours of my house please rsvp for my birthday party (Oct 29th, 6 pm, costume from one of Joss Whedon's masterpieces).  Am I talking to you?  Well, think hard.  Do you live within four hours of my house?  THEN YES! I AM!.

A simple yes or no.  That's all I'm looking for.

If you live MORE than four hours away you only need to tell me if you're planning on showing up.  Otherwise I'll assume you're not coming.

Now I' have to go deal with my insane and screaming children.  Bye!