Sixteen

My back went out last night.

I'm 31 years old, and out of the clear blue sky, I get up off the couch after Malcolm in the Middle and zzzzzzttttpp, my back has a spasm that takes my breath away. I’m OK as long as I don’t turn left or bend over or move in any way. If I do any of those things I have a huge spasm and simultaneously pee down my leg.

Let’s see, what have I done different lately? Could it be, ........ POWER YOGA TWICE THIS WEEK?

Boy, you try to do something healthy, you try to connect with the pink light and all you get for your troubles is hunting around in your basement for the brace you wore when Finbar was born and split your hips open like a ripe cantaloupe.  I was all set to go immediately to the chiropractor and I remembered it’s Memorial day. Who does he think he is, taking the day off? He didn’t fight in any wars.

We got a swing set. Nothing fancy, it’s not one of those huge wooden ones with flags all over it, it’s just one of those old school metal jobs. We set it up yesterday and the kids are over the moon.  The problem is with the sore back and all, they're on their own today. "Sorry, can’t push ya, sorry, don’t fall, sorry, can’t move...." the upside for them of course is that I can’t make good on any of my threats either, and they know it.

"Hey, don’t hit your sister or I'll grimace and pee down my leg! Hey, don’t climb on the counters looking for treats or I'll writhe on the ground in agony!"

We had our anniversary this week, too, eight years. That sounds so long! It doesn’t seem long at all, which I suppose is a good sign. I gave Mike a new wedding band, sterling silver with kladdagh stuff carved in it, and he gave me eight huge roses. They are literally the size of apples. Big apples. And then he bought a dvd player for both of us.

I was a bit skeptical that we needed such a thing, but after playing with it for a few days, it is pretty cool. The funny part is, he had to jerry-rig it so it would work on our thousand year old TV.

So have a great memorial day weekend.  I will be lying on the floor thinking of mean things to say to my chiropractor.  Back pain knows no holiday.

Seventeen

"Mommy, when we get home, can I go on the swing set?"

As she asked this, she casually pulled a rock out of her pocket and began drawing circles on the car. I was loading Finny into his car seat. My answer sounded something like this:

"Sure, sweetie, AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHWHAT ARE YOU DOING STOP ITAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

I actually watched her doing it for a couple of seconds before it sank in. Like my brain was saying, “She just asked you a question. By the way, she's drawing on the side of your new car with a rock.”  We struck a deal: I would take the fall when Mike got around to noticing, and she can never get married and move away. She has to live with us forever. She thought that sounded dandy, especially since we have a swing set.

Today is her graduation from pre-school. They're actually having a ceremony with mortar boards and stuff. I guess the valedictorian is the kid who made the best brown bag puppet.  And by the way, how come Meg wasn’t picked?? I plan to sit in the audience and heckle all the way through the chosen kid's, "As you head out into the brave world of kindergarten...." speech.

"Kid's puppet isn’t so great, for cryin' out loud, the googly eyes are completely crooked. Doesn’t even know the words to Do You Know the Muffin Man. Yeah, enjoy it buddy, it’s the farthest you’re ever gonna go. How does it feel to peak at four?  You have absolutely no grasp of glitter at all." As they escort me out, the other moms will loudly whisper, "She applied to St Thomas kindergarten, and she didn’t get in. She had to have her dad call the priest for her.”

I have to go get dressed.

Eighteen

So the graduation ceremony went off without a hitch.  The entertainment was a woman dressed like Glinda the Good Witch, and she did magic. She would have all the kids say, "Follow the Yellow Brick Road," instead of  'abra cadabra', not realizing that probably ninety percent of the pre-schoolers haven’t seen that movie, Meg included. And Meg, in typical fashion, sat through the whole thing very stoically. You can never tell if she likes something or not in situations like that, because she sits and watches with a total poker face and just sort of takes it all in.  Liz calls it a 'Hubbell Face', says she gets it from my dad.

But last night, she marched out into the living room in her Barbie nightgown and crown and announced that she was Linda the Witch, and she was gonna do some magic. She piled all the teletubbies into a box, had Mike tap it three times with a wand, then told us we had to say the magic words..... only she forgot what the magic words were. After searching her memory banks and a little hemming and hawwing, we all began chanting, "Fold the Magic Balloon.  Fold the Magic Balloon." Then she made us close our eyes for about five minutes, during which time we heard lots of banging around, crashing and grunting and when we opened our eyes, the box was empty! How ‘bout that… and the teletubbies were all wedged under a pillow.

The kid’s got talent is what that is.

We saw Annie Get Your Gun, and we all loved it.  The only weak links were the somewhat thin singing voices of the two leads.  Marilu Henner was spunky and all, but as a singer, she writes really good diet books. (There was a kiosk in the lobby where said books could be purchased.  How thoughtful of her.) The supporting players really stole the show.  Makes you feel for those phenomenally talented Broadway bridesmaids, hoofing their little hearts out only to see Marilu collect the roses at the end. Kind of like how every waiter in L.A. must feel about Keanu Reeves.

Today was the first day of Kindergarten for Meg, and we all lived.  She was super pumped, I was fine, daddy was a mess.  It really hit him hard.  He had to step out of the classroom for a little alone time when we dropped her off.  We spent the whole day afterward running errands, and I was so tired when we got home…I made pork chops for dinner and when I took them off the stove, I promptly wrapped them in tin foil and put them in the fridge while my confused and hungry family watched.

I guess I should go to bed.

Twenty

So, this morning was the Reindeer Run, a festive run around Lake Harriet held each December.  Participants are encouraged but not required to wear costumes.  So, I’m all excited to do it until I get an entry form and realize I’d be paying fifteen bucks to run around a lake I run around every day for free.

Hmmm………..

I just happened to show up for my usual morning run and they just happened to be having a race. I can’t run just because I’m not wearing some dumb costume or some dumb number? I have a right to run around my lake, especially since the parking shortage for this event means that someone has parked his SUV in my yard.

So I wasn’t actually in it, but I might’ve sneaked a peak at my time just the same. (Terrible.) It’s not like I pinched a donut at the finish, either. Well maybe one. A plain one. It might’ve had a little frosting on it. Maybe chocolate. I don’t really remember.

But then I saw that the race was for Toys for Tots, and now I’m wracked with guilt. I’ll have to go to confession. Downtown, where they don’t know me.  And even then, I’ll still talk in a Monte Python voice.

Speaking of Christmas, and I know we weren’t, I bought one of those Advent calendars with the chocolates in it, thinking that my children and I would read a little prayer each night and then they could share the candy. Instead, each evening ends with a race to the calendar and a tearful fistfight.

Katie

© Katie McCollow, 2004 •