Monday, 29 August 2011

I'm a guest poster!

Thanks to my darling friend Elle from This Is Mommyhood, I am officially published on a blog! (Other than the two I operate myself.)  Fame!  Finally!  Just what I've been waiting for!  Now I can retire and bask in the glow of my ever-lasting popularity.  Like the Backstreet Boys and New Kids on the Block.  Oh... wait...

Anyway, this is what I wrote for Elle.  But you need to go check out my Q&A on her blog.  It will not be a waste of your time.  That's for sure. 

Also, you should read some of Elle's posts.  I like this one in particular.  Or if you've ever had kids you might be familiar with a little devil cartoon called Caillou.

PS - Elle and I combined our mutal brain power to come up with the title of this post - which I think was an EXCELLENT idea.

****** 
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Mary Poppins is a parenting inspiration.

Alternate title: Marianna will shank your ass if you eff with her, and parenting thoughts from the *almost* left handed amputee.

When my dear friend Elle began hunting for guest posters, I wasn’t sure I was the best person for the job. You see, Elle is so sweet, kind, genuine and funny. I, on the other hand, am kind of an asshole.

And on top of that, I don’t have kids, so I rarely have helpful advice for her the parenting department. I’m pretty useless, actually.

HOWEVER, my uterus has been pretty riled up lately, screaming at me to grow something inside it, so I’ve been doing some thinking about what kind of parent I want to be. Alors, here is my list of goals for my yet-unborn children.

Elle, I know you’ll find this extremely helpful. You’re welcome.

What my kids will inherit from me
Remarkable grace. And the ability to be tolerant, open-minded, and understanding. They had better not EVER assume that they know the whole story. They need to hold their judgments. Unless they’re judging Snookie. Snookie is an idiot of immense proportion.

What my kids will have to inherit from someplace else
The confidence to under-achieve. What I mean is, the confidence to know they are “successful” even if they don’t over-accomplish every little stupid thing in their whole entire lives. I don’t want them to lose their marbles like – ahem – someone I know. I want them be happy, not stressed.

What my kids will inherit from me
Willingness to read. I don’t really care what they read, as long as they read something. I think I might get them started on Twilight.

What my kids will have to inherit from someplace else
A distant relationship with television and the internet. Unless they’re watching Ellen. Or Jimmy Fallon. Or So You Think You Can Dance. Or The Young and The Restless. Or Roseanne. Or unless they’re blogging. Or reading blogs. Or watching Youtube. Or tweeting. No Facebook though. I HATE Facebook.

What my kids will inherit from me
Artistic ability. They should write, or draw, or act, or dance, or make macaroni castles. A creative outlet to express themselves is KEY. As long as they don’t collect old beer cans and build a beer can wall in the backyard, I’ll be on board. Maybe even then.

What my kids will have to inherit from someplace else
Athletic ability. In team sports. With other people. For the FUN of it. With Hubby to drive them to their games and practices, because I’m too lazy for that.

What my kids will inherit from me
Honesty. They should be straightforward and out-spoken. Passive aggression annoys me and I won’t receive it well from anyone – fruit of my loins or otherwise. They should speak their minds.

What my kids will have to inherit from someplace else
Politeness. Those little brats better be nice to people. They can have their own opinion but they better choose the right time to open their big mouths.

Finally, what my kids will inherit from me
Intelligence. They’ll be smart. I know it. They’ll even be smart enough to know that I’m always right. Oh… and English and Science and stuff.

And what my kids will have to inherit from someplace else
Patience. I’ll be there IN A MINUTE! If those little shits yell “Maaahhhhhhmm” one more time I’m gonna LOSE it.

So. Elle. There you have it. My top ten list of things all kids oughta be. Get on it, already, won’t ya?

*******

Thanks Elle.  Love ya. 

Saturday, 27 August 2011

Ouch, dammit.

Remember when I decided to sue my best friend (and her cottage dock) for causing me undue hardship and emotional distress? Not to mention compensation for the physical damage that results from the amputation of a left hand?

Well the stakes just got WAY higher.


Yeah. That’s my hand. Rather, what’s left of my hand. I finally got the damn dock shrapnel extracted yesterday, and that, up there, is the result.

Despite the fact my infection seemed to subside as my flesh healed last week, the foreign particle continued to fester. It was only a matter of time before surgery became necessary. This is the kind of wound that KILLED people not that long ago, folks. I could have DIED.

I asked Hubby if he would donate his hand to me in the event that mine could not be saved. He thought carefully and then asked: left or right? Left, obviously. I don’t want two right hands. Well, that wouldn’t do because his left hand is his guitar chord hand. In fact, I couldn’t have either hand, because he needs both. So he offered me his foot instead.

Um, thanks?

So off I went to my doctor’s office to drain yet another 45 minutes of publically funded physician salary from our health system. Luckily my lovely doctor had no intention of causing me harm – bring on the numbing serum! Only, I don’t know if anyone has ever driven a sharp needle – filled with numbing serum or otherwise – into the palm of your hand, but it hurts like a motha.

At least after the needle struggle, my palm and fingers just felt fat and tingly. I could feel her cutting and digging around in there, but I refused to look. At one point I had to ask if that was rubbing alcohol or hot blood dripping down my wrist. Apparently I didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

She eventually found the enemy buried in my flesh. It wasn’t as deep as she expected. Really? So why did you carve me open like that? It seems she wanted to “make sure we got it all".

Oh… um, ok…

She showed me the offender. Imagine a very small, but very sharp, cat claw covered in blood. Ew. But I feel do much better having the little effer extracted. And I’ll look forward to having the two stitches removed next week.

Until then, that picture may become my screensaver. 

_