Something about Nothing
The long work week is, mercifully, almost over. I'm feeling better and that's always a good thing when the weekend rolls around. It's Friday! Date night number 1! Oh . . . wait. I've got a kid. And I've been "dating" the same guy for almost 16 years. Damn.
I am trying to decide if I have the gumption to go to Weight Watchers in the morning. I've had a good week as far as eating goes, but I don't think it is enough to make up for prior sins. I'll let you know if I figure out a way to lose 10 pounds over the next 18 hours or so.
On to some randomness:
1. A few months ago I blogged about A's birthmother and my distress over not having contact with her. I did summon the courage to call her a couple weeks ago. She wasn't home (or didn't answer), so I left a voicemail. I apologized for calling and told her that I would be happy to send pictures and updates if she, in turn, would send me her new address (I know that she has moved and yes, I could look it up online but I really feel like I need this information to come from her). I suggested that she could call or maybe just drop a postcard in the mail. I also said that if she doesn't want updates, that's okay, too. If she wanted them, I'd be more than happy to send them. (I have well over 1,000 photos of the kid on my hard drive - can you say, "overkill?") Well, I didn't hear from her. As I have said before, I can't pretend to understand all that she has gone through and I can't keep guessing about what is going on in her mind. I hope she is happy . . . I know I want her to be happy.
What I have decided to do is to write down everything I know about A's birthmother (her maiden name, her married name, last known address, her son's name, etc.) and put it in an envelope. I can then give it to my daughter when she is older, in case she would like to make contact.
2. A few months ago I wrote another blog entry that has been weighing on my mind a lot lately. That particular post was about a friendship that seemed, in my mind, to have faded away. I think my friend did read that blog and I fear I hurt her feelings, which was not my intention at all. I still miss her and think about her every day. I just didn't know how to fix what was broken.
3. On a less dramatic topic . . . I have had the occasion to use several automatic toilets in the past month or so (please try not to be jealous of the extreme glamour that is my life). This question has been bugging me for a while: why do they always flush before I am ready? I was at a pet expo a couple weeks ago, headed to the ladies' room, and felt a cold whoosh as I was sitting there. Then the same thing happened to me at a restaurant on Sunday. I mean, WTF? Do I do things out of order? It's not like I pee and then sit down. I can usually see a little sensor in the wall - what is it looking for? In those cases where the toilet doesn't flush prematurely, it usually takes the opposite stance - it doesn't flush at all. So then I try waving my hand in front of the sensor. ("Hey! I'm, um, all done here!") Usually I have to look for the override flush button hidden somewhere on the wall, which seems to defeat the whole purpose. I also find the automatic sinks and towel dispensers sort of perplexing. I mean, great, I haven't had to touch anything . . . except the germ-ridden, smeared-up door handle on the way out.
4. Speaking of toilets, I learned a hard lesson the other day. When you have a newly potty-trained kid, scope out restrooms as soon as you enter any establishment. The other day we stopped at Target to exchange an early birthday gift that A had received. It was a toy from a friend of mine, but A had received the same toy from her Meemaw for Christmas. So, we were in the back of the store, in the toy section - more specifically, the "pink aisle" as my dad calls it. We were comparing the merits of various princess dolls, when the kid clamped her knees together and announced that she needed to use the potty. The restrooms were, as far as I knew, about a half-mile away, up by the registers. I tossed her into the cart and proceeded through a maze of Target employees that were inexplicably moving in slow-motion, in packs, right down the center of each aisle. It was like "Night of the Living Dead" or something. When we finally got into the restroom it was, of course, too late. And it was completely my fault. Just poor planning on my part. That was her only accident in the past couple of weeks as far as I can recall. We have a road trip coming up tomorrow and I am thinking that we are just going to put her potty right in the van. I don't think she has the whole "ample notice" thing down quite yet.
And that's all I know.
I am trying to decide if I have the gumption to go to Weight Watchers in the morning. I've had a good week as far as eating goes, but I don't think it is enough to make up for prior sins. I'll let you know if I figure out a way to lose 10 pounds over the next 18 hours or so.
On to some randomness:
1. A few months ago I blogged about A's birthmother and my distress over not having contact with her. I did summon the courage to call her a couple weeks ago. She wasn't home (or didn't answer), so I left a voicemail. I apologized for calling and told her that I would be happy to send pictures and updates if she, in turn, would send me her new address (I know that she has moved and yes, I could look it up online but I really feel like I need this information to come from her). I suggested that she could call or maybe just drop a postcard in the mail. I also said that if she doesn't want updates, that's okay, too. If she wanted them, I'd be more than happy to send them. (I have well over 1,000 photos of the kid on my hard drive - can you say, "overkill?") Well, I didn't hear from her. As I have said before, I can't pretend to understand all that she has gone through and I can't keep guessing about what is going on in her mind. I hope she is happy . . . I know I want her to be happy.
What I have decided to do is to write down everything I know about A's birthmother (her maiden name, her married name, last known address, her son's name, etc.) and put it in an envelope. I can then give it to my daughter when she is older, in case she would like to make contact.
2. A few months ago I wrote another blog entry that has been weighing on my mind a lot lately. That particular post was about a friendship that seemed, in my mind, to have faded away. I think my friend did read that blog and I fear I hurt her feelings, which was not my intention at all. I still miss her and think about her every day. I just didn't know how to fix what was broken.
3. On a less dramatic topic . . . I have had the occasion to use several automatic toilets in the past month or so (please try not to be jealous of the extreme glamour that is my life). This question has been bugging me for a while: why do they always flush before I am ready? I was at a pet expo a couple weeks ago, headed to the ladies' room, and felt a cold whoosh as I was sitting there. Then the same thing happened to me at a restaurant on Sunday. I mean, WTF? Do I do things out of order? It's not like I pee and then sit down. I can usually see a little sensor in the wall - what is it looking for? In those cases where the toilet doesn't flush prematurely, it usually takes the opposite stance - it doesn't flush at all. So then I try waving my hand in front of the sensor. ("Hey! I'm, um, all done here!") Usually I have to look for the override flush button hidden somewhere on the wall, which seems to defeat the whole purpose. I also find the automatic sinks and towel dispensers sort of perplexing. I mean, great, I haven't had to touch anything . . . except the germ-ridden, smeared-up door handle on the way out.
4. Speaking of toilets, I learned a hard lesson the other day. When you have a newly potty-trained kid, scope out restrooms as soon as you enter any establishment. The other day we stopped at Target to exchange an early birthday gift that A had received. It was a toy from a friend of mine, but A had received the same toy from her Meemaw for Christmas. So, we were in the back of the store, in the toy section - more specifically, the "pink aisle" as my dad calls it. We were comparing the merits of various princess dolls, when the kid clamped her knees together and announced that she needed to use the potty. The restrooms were, as far as I knew, about a half-mile away, up by the registers. I tossed her into the cart and proceeded through a maze of Target employees that were inexplicably moving in slow-motion, in packs, right down the center of each aisle. It was like "Night of the Living Dead" or something. When we finally got into the restroom it was, of course, too late. And it was completely my fault. Just poor planning on my part. That was her only accident in the past couple of weeks as far as I can recall. We have a road trip coming up tomorrow and I am thinking that we are just going to put her potty right in the van. I don't think she has the whole "ample notice" thing down quite yet.
And that's all I know.
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