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Archive for August 28th, 2008

Something I am trying to teach the girls (and it does not appear to be working yet) is that life is full of choices. That they are in control of much of what goes on around them.

Take a few weeks ago, for instance. We’d driven to a nearby town for an appointment to get their passports (a whole ‘nother story I will write when I stop being so upset at their father) and afterwards walked to our favorite used bookstore to pick out some end of the summer reading for the three of us. By the time we were sitting in a cafe and eating croissants and juice (and I had a big fat latte), I knew they’d be needing to use the restroom. The cafe has an awesome restroom. I doubt you could eat off the floor or lick the trash can but the place is darn clean.

Knowing we’d be hitting the playground next, which was equipped with a rather heinous potty-on-the-spot or whatever they call them here in the East, I announced we’d be using the cafe restroom. They both shook their heads and said they didn’t need to go. In fact, when I went, they followed me there and still refused to sit and try.

So we left and two minutes later, at the playground with the potty-on-the-spot nearby, Red came up to me and let me know she had to do “number two”. 

Seriously.

I refused to take her to the port-a-potty because it was disgusting and full of mosquitos.

She held it for an hour.

When we got home and she went to the bathroom she exclaimed “that’s the last time I don’t take your advice about a bathroom!” 

It reminds me of a saying my grandmother used to day:

“Why stand when you can sit? Why sit when you can lie down? Why pass up a chance to go to the bathroom?”

That same day, we made a trip to my favorite used bookstore. The guy who owns it is probably my age and usually you can find him crouched in a corner behind some huge stack of used dusty old books. There is a “dark and dingy old used book seller” feel about him. I tend to feel that he possibly sleeps on the old Victorian couch in the middle of the gardening book section, every night.

A word that comes to mind to describe him is “squirrelly”. 

But there is something about him and his place that I totally dig. The rare books. The children’s book section of new books. The coffee table books that have ripped covers from sitting in someone else’s living room for thirty years. I can pick up some good chick-lit for a few bucks off the outside table.

I brought the kids to the children’s room and let them each pick out three books. Red, who can read pretty much anything picked out three chapter books. Blue, who can read words like “me”, “love” and “Mommy”, looked around frantically, trying to keep up with the pace of her older sister. Ends up, she chose the same chapter books. Which she refuses to let me read to her. But she has been carrying them around with her proudly for the last three weeks.

I decided that I totally like making out. I mean, I know I liked it, but realize that making out doesn’t happen often…you know, just alot of time sucking face and not having any clothes ripped off or anything. Yeah, piano man reminds me that making out is an okay place to carry on for a while. Granted, time and place has an effect on that. A visit after the girls were in bed a few weeks ago, kept things appropriate.

Because I LOVE my new Mac, and piano man was actually with me when I bought it, we have hooked up via ichat when he goes back up north for the greater portion of the week.

This thing is amazing.

My favorite is when I say “PLAY ME A SONG!” and he sets the laptop up on his piano and I can watch and hear him play and he then he sings to me.

Hawt.

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