Tuesday, February 7, 2012

the girl with the blue sweater.

There's this place here called Monkey Joe's. It's all inflatable play place thingies. There's an area for kids under 3, adults are free and toddlers are like $5. I figured what the heck, it's better than sitting around the house listening to Elmo and Liam screech that he can't lick the window/wipe his schmeckle on the wall/throw the ipad/put banana in my ear/whatever.

It opened at 10 and we got there at like, 10:10. There was one employee there. Some dude with long curly hair and glasses, probably around 19 or 20. We walk in and he starts busting into some weird song about bananas as he puts a wristband on Liam. I'm wondering why he's being an idiot if there is no managers/coworkers around to enforce mandatory idiocy but whatever. He works at Monkey freaking Joe's, he must be going insane. Then he puts the wristband on me and starts singing about my graceful hands. Uh...ok. Thanks? he finishes lovingly placing a neon yellow wristband on me and Liam and I go as fast as we can to the jumps. it's silent except the whooshing sound of the air generators. This guy walks by every two seconds, and each time he's moonwalking or doing some weird chicken dance. I pretend I don't see him, then he comes up and starts asking me, WITH A KAZOO, if I'm a dating single parent.

I'm a bitch and I started to laugh. What the hell else was I supposed to do? He's got a kazoo in his mouth and is doing some weird dance while he is talking to me...like some weird bird on Nat Geo trying to get a mate. Maybe he has social issues and I'm a total jerk for making fun of him but sorry, it was freaking awkward. Conveniently at that moment Liam decided to put his hand down his pants and yell "POOOOOOP!!!!!!!!!! EWWWWWWWWWW STINKY!!!!!!" so I went and changed him.

Later, we are hiding in the back of the place, going down this alligator slide thing with some other kids because by then, 4 or 5 people have shown up. All of a sudden I hear, over the freaking intercom, a voice interrupt the Jungle Book music that had started playing while I was cleaning Liam's ass. "This song is for the girl in the blue sweater!" and that "I wish that I had Jesse's Girl" song started to play. Heads turned and my blue sweater probably turned navy with the amount of sweat that started pouring out of me at that moment. I grabbed Liam's hand and we ran.

I get to the door and there is this giant old lady in a referee shirt (at least they have more than one employee, jeez) blocking the door with a pair of scissors shouting in a growly voice, "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING?????" Apparently they have to cut off your wrist band and match the numbers to the sign in sheet to make sure the girl in the blue sweater isn't stealing children.

Mr. Romance spent like 10 minutes checking our wrist bands against the sign in sheet. WTF DUDE, YOU ARE THE ONE THAT CHECKED US IN AN HOUR AGO.

I finally get Liam buckled into his seat and he goes, "home?"

Yes, please. Who the hell is this possessive Jesse anyway?

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Quick like Shake n' Bake.

There are so many updates I can't get to them all at this moment. I will, but not right now.

Right now it's midnight, and I was sleeping but woke up and needed to say this.

We bedshared/coslept with Liam until about 2 months ago, when he was 16 months. He was getting woken up too easily by one of us getting up to pee. Now he sleeps through the night. It's heaven. I have my body back to myself for awhile since he's not nursing at night anymore. It's obvious he's growing up, because he used to sleep a million times better next to me. Now he's more comfortable in his own space.

But sometimes I miss him. I wake up in the night and don't have that tiny body curled up in the dark next to me. So I sneak in his room and sit in the chair and watch him sleep. I need that moment because during the day it's easy to forget it. When he's screaming and climbing and throwing and hitting and just being a maniac toddler who is such a direct reflection of me it's scary...it's easy to forget the perfection.

Anyway, there is this weird feeling I get. And I don't know if it's just me or if every parent gets this. I got it the second I saw his face when he was born and now it startles me every once and awhile when he looks directly into my eyes and grins. Only just now I got it when he was sleeping and I was sitting in the dark thinking. It hit me randomly, like it always does.

I know him.

Like, other than the fact that he's my kid. Something about him is like deja vu. I remember I saw his face the second he slid out of my body and it hit me like a truck. It's like I'd met him before. It's that awkward moment when you run into someone in public and you know you know them from somewhere but you can't put a name to the face. That's what it was. I recognized him. From somewhere. I mean I know he looks like me, but that's not it. It's something. But I don't know what it is. And I think I notice it more and more now. When we lock eyes I just think in my head,

"Where did you come from? I KNOW you. I recognize you. You aren't new to me."

But I can't grasp it. It's something so fleeting that I lose it too fast to focus and figure it out.

Anyway, I need to go back to bed. But I couldn't sleep without writing this because I always get this weird semi-freaked out feeling afterwards, like I've seen a ghost. Now I'm losing my words because the whole thing is fading like it always does.

My son is my son. But he's something else too. Besides freaking awesome. I just wish I could lay my finger on it.