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May 17, 2006
Dial-a-Cranky
Ever have one of those weeks where little things keep going wrong, and even though you know that you're one of the luckiest girls alive and you should be thankful that your problems are so small, you can't help but bitch and moan a bunch?
Yeah, me too.
In an attempt to rid myself of the mid-week malaise, let's examine the petty bullshit that's chapping my hide and come up with happy, perky flipside crap. Yo yo you, it's an attitude of gratitude, Bitch!
What's pissing me off? My nose hurts. Fucking sinuses.
But the good news? At least I have a nose, which I have yet to cut off despite my face.
Who's irritating me today? My spouse, who called to chit-chat today at a moment when he should have known I would be slap-dang swamp-ass busy.
But there is redemption! One of the things that had me swamped when the phone rang? Oh, I was signing the little UPS clipboard for a big-ass box from Lush. Happy belated Mother's Day to me!
What am I sick to death of? Going through crap. In preparation for the annual rummage sale, I'm in clean-and-price mode, which is one of my least favorite modes to be in.
But you know what's cool? I don't live in a cluttered filthy nightmare! And I'm so looking forward to the handful of cash the sale will bring to finance my trip to Detroit Rock City to see Sal and her sis Kirsti in *gasp* less than two weeks! Oh, the sheer joy of that fact will keep me pricing through the night.
I get so sick of this kind of crap: One of my neighbors gave birth to a little girl about a month ago. She also has an 18-month-old and two school-age sons. A few days ago, B., Clara Jane and I were outside when Boy stopped by to chat. Ever the neighborhood gossip, he told us that he heard the new mom yelling and screaming. He and B. stood in our driveway and tsk-tsked about how bad it is to be so angry and upset with babies in the house. Dudes! Do you think she's doing that because it's fun? How about shutting the fuck up and offering her some damn help? After the post-partum hell that occured under this roof, I was aghast that B. could stand there, passing judgement, and teaching a 10-year-old to do the same.
However, have I offered her any help? No. I barely know her and I have no idea how to approach the situation without making her feel worse because I'm pretty sure she's feeling like absolute utter shit. Having been in the same shit-filled capsizing boat, I know that if a neighbor I barely knew stopped by and said, "Hey. I heard you screaming and throwing wooden blocks at your windows. You're having a hard time. Let me help," my fucked-up mind would have heard, "Yep, the whole neighborhood knows what a shitty mother you are. Here. Lemme rub it in a bit."
But this makes it a little better: I'm reading Inconsolable by Marrit Ingman, and you should, too. Especially if you've ever had a baby, are thinking about having a baby, or love someone who's had a baby. Seriously. Read this book. Now. Even if you have to do like I did and go through the interlibrary loan process. I'm thinking I should anonymously send a copy of it to my neighbor.
Since I recently joined the St. Louis Knits webring, I guess I'll bitch about something knitting-related:
What's pissing me off: I've added yet a third locally-owned yarn shop to my shit list. I went to this particular shop, where I've purchased a small fortune in knitting supplies over the past two years. The owner gladly took my name and number to call me when Big Girl Knits finally arrives so I can finally buy my copy. I drive past big bookstores nearly daily, but I opted to go out of my way to buy the book from a small, local yarn shop.
I then proceeded to pick out yarn for Boobie Scarf #5. My total came to $15 and ... here's where I get angry ... and the owner of the store refused to punch my customer loyalty card because the purchase wasn't close enough to $20. Now, I'm thinking about all the times I spent $30 in her store and got one punch. I thought about how I inconvenienced myself to give her my business, and how many times I've inconvenienced myself to give her my business, and frankly, I got pissed. So much so that I almost returned the yarn to the store.
Instead, I kept the yarn, mainly because I didn't want to inconvenience myself again. But it's the last yarn I'll be buying there. And she can keep her damn book, too. I'll get it elsewhere.
I was bitching to B. about this, and he made an astute observation. There are now three local yarn shops where I refuse to spend my money. The first one I won't frequent because, when I was there with an armload of yarn and 16 pounds of infant strapped to my chest, the owner opted to continue chit-chatting with a friend instead of ringing up my order, despite acknowledging my presence. The second, the owner ragged on me for being fat, and then referred to my kid, who I held the entire time I was shopping, as a "holy terror". Now, may refer to her as Devil Baby, but I earned that right when I labored her for 32 hours. What do these three yarn shops have in common? They've been around for a long time and are run by older women. There's a level of rudeness at all three that I've never seen at the newer shops. B. commented that it seems these old-skool knitters might resent us young knitting pups. I don't know. All I know is where I'll be shopping, and where I won't.
On the plus side: Boobie Scarf #4 is almost finished and should be ready to auction next week! Those of you who clamoured for orange, start counting your pennies. Also, I have fully-functioning hands that are capable of knitting. I could have lost my hands in a tragic wringer-washer accident, and then what would I do while I watch TV? Hmm? I wouldn't be able to knit, or change the channel. Rude knitting shops be damned! Me and my hands will carry on quite well without you.
Let's top this off with some 100% good stuff:
- Clara Jane's home after a few days with her grandparents! Let's not ruin this by talking about the meltdown she just had.
- Last night, since we were child-free, B. and I spent the evening eating mountains of 35-cent wings, drinking yummy new beer and playing round after round of trivia. I came in 6th out of 20-odd players in one round, third in another, and I kicked everyone's ass and came in first once. Boo-ya. Imagine how well I would have done without the beer.
- Saturday? Dinner with friends in Belleville.
- Have I mentioned Detroit today? I've mentioned Detroit.
- Let's nail the coffin shut on the last shred of my punk rock dignity: I'm so stoked about Taylor Hicks. So very, very stoked.
It's all good. Really.
Posted by Robin at May 17, 2006 07:22 PM
Comments
Did you say LUSH? Swoon
Posted by: Darcy at May 18, 2006 08:49 AM
IMHO: You might get a big door slammed in your face, but go see the neighbor. I can't count the number of times I paced the sidewalk in front of my house around 4-5 p.m., feeling like utter shit, praying some neighbor I barely knew would come over and say ANYTHING along the lines of "What a pretty baby. Can I hold her?" (What I would have heard: A chance to wash my face and brush my teeth, and maybe, my hair.)
Take her a sandwich, some cut-up fruit, whatever to introduce yourself.
And for those in Poppy's area: Check out the yard sale, she's got some great stuff for the kids!
Posted by: Mary at May 18, 2006 09:52 AM
I'm savin' my pennies! And a bit of my tax refund! :)
Posted by: Debbie at May 18, 2006 10:01 AM
hey. I was thinking about your neighbor and her children. And as a mother of three and having many meltdown moments myself, maybe you could bring over some cookies. Then you will have a chance to say hi.With me, I had all this help and food the first week after my kids were born. I would have loved getting a meal or cookies esp. any type of dessert(dessert is great for the older kids!) A month or two after the birth.Can't wait till Friday's shuffle. You know I wouln't mind a daily shuffle list. What do you think of the Raconteurs? brenda
Posted by: brenda at May 18, 2006 10:21 AM
less than 2 weeks!!! WOOHOOOOOO I can't bloody wait.
Sal x
Posted by: sal at May 18, 2006 01:40 PM
Yep, Lush. I got a Happy Pill and my absolute favorite, Hot Java.
Mary, I had forgotten that story about you. You're right. I'm hoping to see the neighbor during the rummage sale; I met her at last year's sale. If not then, she's in her front yard quite a bit. If nothing else, I'll offer to watch the little ones for an hour or two so she can get a break.
Yay Debbie!
Ah Brenda - so funny. When your comment arrived I was listening to the mix I'm still trying to make for you. I'm loving the Raconteurs. Not as much as the guitarist/vocalist/synthisizerist's other band, but it's a good little CD. I love that "Trouble" references writing in wet cement, because it makes me think of my friend Kristina, who has a brilliant story regarding writing in wet cement.
For Mother's Day, B. gave me Sympathetic Sounds of Detroit. It came out in 2001, shortly before the White Stripes got big. It's a Jack White-produced compilation of Detroit bands. If you like gritty, garagey stuff, you'll love it. It's got my beloved Soledad Brothers (who will definitely be on your mix) and a great White Stripes track called "Red Death at 6:14", which is about a little girl throwing a hissy fit. Once, when Clara Jane was just a few months old, she was throwing a fit to beat the band. After a good 20 minutes of screaming, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to have some tunes. I put on "Red Death", and she immediately calmed down. When you hear the song, you'll understand just how funny that is.
Sal, today Clara Jane and I drove past the airport, like we do everyday. There was a plane taking off really close to us and she got all excited. I told her that in less than two weeks, we'll be flying on a plane to see you and Oz. She got even more excited and kept saying, "We're going to fly on a plane together! We're going to see the clouds!"
Posted by: Robin at May 18, 2006 01:43 PM
That wringer washer comment is not exactly funny to someone who had:
A. a mother who actually used one in the 70's (the real one didn't arrive until my brother did) and
B. a weird fascination with "helping" and getting her fingers too close to the wringers.
Manys the afternoon I remember laying on my parent's bed with a bag of ice, feeling sorry for myself.
I'd go over to the neighbor's. If you know enough about her to know she had a baby, you know enough to converse with her.
And is one of the Bad LYS in my neck of the woods? Cause I'm not down with the teasing!
Posted by: allison at May 18, 2006 04:41 PM
I like the idea of dropping by the neighbors to bring her a treat and a little casual conversation. Maybe slip in there that you know what she's going through because you've been in her shoes.
I got my Big Girl Knits book a couple weeks ago and I can't decide yet if I like it or not. Well...I do like it because it really explains how to make patterns bigger in the places they need to be bigger without making the whole garment into a sack. The bad thing is it's complicated and I'm not experienced enough to understand it all. I can learn though.
Posted by: DixiePeach at May 18, 2006 05:37 PM
Just placed on hold from my library Inconsolable. Sounds like a good cherry read. Yes? It looks really good. Thanks for the heads up. And also for the tips on music. I haven't yet bought the Raconteurs I only have heard one song on the radio. I liked it. I think I will add it to my birthday wish list for my husband.Have you read Confessions of a Slacker Mom? I just got done with that one. Made me feel lots better about not being a scrap booker that's fer sure. Looking forward to the cd. No hurries I know you are a busy lady.
Posted by: brenda at May 18, 2006 05:52 PM
Allison, see? Your wringer-washer story is exactly why I should be thankful! I'm on pretty good terms with the LYS in your neck of the woods. The ones I dislike are in St. Charles, Kirkwood, and West County.
Dix, have you knitted any sweaters yet? I did one for Clara Jane last year, figuring it would be easier and less wasteful to do a little one first. Don't let the instructions intimidate you. Break 'em down into individual sections and it's a breeze.
Brenda, "Inconsolable" is excellent. Even though it's about depression, it's not as morose as I thought. I read a little bit of "Confessions of a Slacker Mom". In fact, I've read a little bit of most books in that genre that have been released in the past three years. Research for my book proposal and all. I read "The Three Martini Playdate" at Borders one day when Clara Jane was three months old. She snoozed on my chest in her Baby Bjorn in the cafe long enough to let me read the entire book.
Posted by: Robin at May 18, 2006 08:07 PM
Lush just opened up here. In the mall that's about 10 minutes from my house. Across from a Hanna Anderssson store.
Doom!
We have a yarn store here that won't ring you up. I don't go there. Of course, now I'm working in a yarn store near downtown and hoping like hell no one hates me because damn it's hard being in retail. We either have no one in the store or 8 people, all of whom want help NOW.
Posted by: liz at May 19, 2006 07:47 AM
E and I were out Tuesday night at our local BWW doing exactly what you guys were doing. It's our Tuesday ritual. We play with a team for the Showdown tournament at 8 pm. Love my NTN trivia.
Posted by: Barefoot Cajun at May 19, 2006 03:54 PM
