Monkey Business

Blame it on the number of times I watched Poltergeist as a kid, but I have always kind of believed that toys get up and walk around when no one is watching. After cleaning the gameroom this evening, I am totally convinced it is true. I am also convinced that Prince Charming is one sick fuck.

Meow. Ehem. Me-ouch.

I know this happened awhile back, but I thought some of you might enjoy.

Kenny pulls into the driveway with a car full of boxes and a grin. "Hey Baby, guess what I found?" Uhh. Boxes? "No. Boxes FULL of Arden B and Bebe clothing in your size from one of the condos I manage." Apparently the tenants moved out and left me a present. We'll call it compensation for all of the crap they caused during their lease. Kenny drags the boxes out of the car and into the garage. "The neighborhood garage sell is this weekend, so whatever you don't want, we'll sell." I make two piles and begin sorting through my goodies. Score. Score. Score. Garage sell. Score. Kenny is definitely on my good side now. I rip into box three.

"Uhh, Kenny, did you open this one."

"No. Why?"

"What did you say she did for a living?"

My guess. A stripper. I mean no one has that many see through tops and rip away skirts. Except maybe Sheri. I kid. Sort of. I pull out a feather trimmed, see-through robe to unearth, that's right, a full-body leopard print catsuit. Oh hell. After a good laugh, we toss it into the garage sell pile. The Mexican ladies who show up at the end of the sell and offer you $20 for all of the rest of your belongings will definitely get off as soon as they see that.

But then a glass of wine later, and I formulate a plan. Hehee. I am funny. While Kenny goes out to water the grass, I sneak out to the garage and grab the leopard suit. I am giggling so hard I can barely pull the thing on. It is about as far from attractive as you can imagine. Bright orange spots stretched tight against a two-time, child producing belly. Hell. Even better. I find the tackiest black shoes I can find, and to top it off, head up the stairs to steal a feather boa out of the kids' dress up box.

I open the bedroom door a crack to make sure Kenny is still outside. I don't want to spoil the effect before I find the feather boa. I call his name. I listen. Nothing. I open the door a bit more. And then I hear the growling. "Shut up, Sadie," I hiss. The dog starts barking. Then Macy the Lazy Dog jumps off the couch. Grrrrrr. "Shut up." Macy lunges at me. The damn dog tried to bit me!

I run. In heels. And a leopard catsuit. Across the wood floor that I am trying not to scratch with my black heels. Kenny hears the commotion. He opens the door just as Macy bites me on the ass.

Meow.

Overbaked babies.

Jill is going to have another little sister soon. Octoberish. Oh, wipe that shocked look off your face. It isn't me. It is her dad. Well, technically it is Andrea, as I am pretty sure him being pregant is physically impossible.

Jill says, "Maybe the baby will be born on my birthday."

"No, Sweety, that is impossible."

"Why not, Mommy."

"Because then the baby would be overbaked."

"What happens when you overbake a baby?"

"Well, Jill, what happens when you overbake a cookie?"

I lean back against the wall, take a sip of my drink, and watch her ponder this for a minute. The last time I burned cookies, they had marshmallows in them. They poofed up way too big. I am sure she is remembering this.

"I know, Mommy...... They turn brown!"

Stinky Shoes.

Kenny laughed when I told him the first day of school would go smoothly. "You remember last year," he says. I scrunch my face up into the look that can only say, "Uhhh God gave me 'Mommy Amnesia' which thankfully means I can't remember." Then a thought comes to me. Yes, yes. There was screaming. Something else. Something. Oh, yes. The shoes. The shoes never fit. And the shirts were always itchy. It is coming back to me. "No, no, no Kenny. It will be different this year. She picked out all of her own clothes. She has tried it on today to make sure it all feels good. I planned ahead." More laughing, this time followed by the shaking of the head as Kenny walks out of the room.

By 7am, I am smug. Ha. She already has her dress on and her hair done. I do a little dance. "I am right. I am right. La la la la la." I take a picture of the moment. I dance some more. She sits down to put on her shoes.

"THEY DON'T FIT. THEY HURT. THESE SHOES ARE STINKY. I AM NOT WEARING THEM!" Shoes fly across the room. I duck. Kenny smirks. "Told you."

And then.

I have been fighting for a year to get Emmi approved for bilateral implantation. It is everything I have worked for. I have taken psychological exams, taken Emmi for multiple tests, and spent hours with therapists. All of this in preparation for a second implant. It has been depending on insurance for months. We keep getting surgery dates, then getting denied coverage.

And then, the coordinator calls me tonight to tell me that we have been approved. They are trying to squeeze Emmi into an opening on Wednesday. In TWO days. Now that it is here, I am not sure I want to do it. How can I explain to her that the hair she loves has to be shaved off and that she will be in pain, but it will be for her own good? I will be putting her through this for what? For my own satisfaction? So I can say I did textbook mothering? That I was perfect and persistent? I am worrying that maybe it isn't best for her. Sure the therapists all say there is a huge difference between one implant and two, but it won't improve her speech. Her palate will still be too short. I am scared now. I know I should sleep on it. I know I might feel different tomorrow, but right now I just want to call and cancel.

Weekend at the River.

After weeks of what felt like blow after blow with Emmi's health, I really needed a break. I was stressed and distracted. My patience was worn thin. I needed to decompress. In a rare bit of good luck, Kenny and I were invited to the river with Cody and Susan on a weekend when we didn't have kiddos. It was Emmi's weekend with her dad, and Jill was spending the weekend with her cousins at my parent's house. So off to the river we went.

We left Friday afternoon, and made it to Cody's family's house before dinnertime. It is a gorgeous home sitting right on the river. The view is amazing. Susan made us dinner. We ate then headed out to one of the fine establishments out near Gruene. Careful, the door is tricky to find! But once inside, the cold beer, young children in the bar, and one-armed pool player will make you feel right at home. (That is probably not at all funny unless you were there.) We stayed up super late....I am thinking aroung 11pm. Then I slept in the following morning, you know, until 8:30am.

Saturday, after a short trip to the outlet mall, we spent the day sunning by the river. It was the most wonderful thing to have no agenda all day. The guys did what guys do, and Susan and I read magazines and sat in the sun. The river was extrememely high, so tubing was out. However, after sitting in the sun the water started to call to us. We spent the rest of the afternoon swinging from the neighbor's rope swing and crafting a tube raft tied to a tree! It was the most relaxing, fun afternoon I have had in a long time.

I could not have asked for a better weekend. I am so glad that we were able to go. Thanks, Susan!! You don't know how much I needed this weekend.

Now look what you have done.....

After seeing Sheri jump on the blog bandwagon and then consequently become addicted to reading several blogs a day, I have decided to submit. It should be a good relationship between myself and this blog, after all, I love to hear myself talk.

You would think between my random rantings on myspace and the website I keep for Emmi, I would get it out of my system. However, Emmi's site is more about relaying facts than about expressing my thoughts. At times, I do use her site to release my frustrations, but I am just not 100% comfortable with doing that. I feel like I should keep it about Emmi. As for myspace, I feel like people are just looking for a lighthearted waste of time. My little essays tend to verge beyond that. Sometimes I feel like being silly and funny, and other times I have serious issues I feel the need to get off of my chest. A blog should be a good resolution. You are forewarned. I may have absolutely nothing to say or I may delve into my innermost thoughts, concerns, and worries.

All in all, I have nothing to declare but my genius! (Oscar Wilde....look it up, people. That should be funny.)