Let's Get a Few Things Straight

What happens ... if ... ???

1. If your toddler gets dog poop on his shoes, just let him splash through a waist-deep mud puddle and that shit'll come right off.
2. If you got your left leg blown off by American-dropped bombs in Somalia and then you move here with a regugee relocation program and then you get a job as a taxi driver and then you enroll in my writing class at the community college and then you write your diagnostic essay about how you want to learn how to write better so that you can inspire young people to "take up pens instead of guns" ... then chances are good that you will get an "A" in my class and make me feel so lucky. Too lucky.
3. If you ask me if I am a good mom, I think I would, finally, answer "maybe" (rather than an emphatic "no") ... because now that I'm working, I'm better able to treasure each moment (even the bad ones). I only have so many of them left: between 1:00 p.m. and bedtime everyday I have to get in all the good stuff. There have been fewer tantrums in our house (not from The Goose, his are still Serious Competition for the World Record Number of Tantrums in One Day) ... MINE. I am no longer screaming, "This is all YOUR fault" at Husband at totally inappropriate times. I'm more patient, more compassionate, more motherly. And I'm happy about it.
4. If, when asked to write a paragraph describing one person in the classroom (without giving his/her name), you write a paragraph about ME (teacher) that includes the phrases, "She has sexy, wavy hair" and "She wears really tight pants" then you are NOT likely to get an "A" despite your pathetic attempts at flattery.
5. If you have some cute, big, teacherly pants for sale, I'll buy them.

Chiao.

Snippets

Y'all made me feel bad, so here I am back again after just having written that I was on hiatus. I'm such a pleaser. Snippets people. That's all you're getting:

• Star Spotting: Husband spotted Nicole Kidman running on the trails. He says she is stalking him. Her bodyguard parks at one of the other ranger's houses and watches her with binoculars from his car. I wonder if his binocs are strong enough to see me peeing in our backyard because I do that when it seems easier than trying to convince Cheese Man (to your right there) that we should go inside so Mama can use the toilet.
• Karate Chop Update: Some of you know about the recent incident wherein I nearly got karate chopped by a student. I'm not exactly sure he was about to karate chop me, but his body language (a startle, stiffening, an immediate rise to the feet, squatting, arms up with fingers extended, etc.) indicated that there may have been some martial arts training in his background. Dreadmouse, maybe you can advise? Anyway, he and I have moved passed the problem ... talked about it, analyzed listener interpretation against speaker intention, worked it out, and finally, there is peace in grammar class. We are now happily conjugating verbs everyday between 10 and 10:50 a.m. And just so everyone is clear, "chop" is a regular verb, which means it has the same past tense and past participle forms. Next week count vs. noncount nouns. Karate = noncount. We make it plural with a measuring word.
• Personal Goal: I really need to stop buying box wine.
• Movie Picks: Do not rent the movie MONSTER just because Charlize Theron got an Oscar for her role. If a gorgeous actress takes a role where she gains weight and acts/looks a little disgusting, vulgar, revolting, or just weird, then hands down she'll get an oscar ... think of it: Sally Field in that go-go unions movie from the 70s, Julia Roberts in Ellen Brokovitch, Nicole Kidman in that Virginia Woolfe thing, Renee Zellweger in Cold Mountain, and now this. I didn't make it through Monster because if I wanna see a really ugly person chop up some truck drivers I'd rather just rent some awful horror movie and pretend that it's all made up and not based on a true story.
• Personal Admission: Tomorrow is my birthday.
• Shout Out: Today is my friend Master of None's birthday. Happy Birthday out in Vegas!

That's all I've got right now. Oh! One more thing: one of Husband's co-workers is getting married Memorial Day Weekend and her husband works for a major country music label. They're having karaoke at the wedding reception and since I invited myself to the wedding, THIS IS MY BIG CHANCE. Now, I need y'all to vote on what song(s) I should sing. Here are my specialties:

1. Killing Me Softly (Roberta Flack version)
2. Anything by the Dixie Chicks
3. It Matters to Me (Faith Hill)
4. Jesus, Take the Wheel (Carrie Underwood) -- actually I've never done this one in public, but in the car I can totally rock the house.
5. I Touch Myself
6. Hit Me with your Best Shot
7. Fame
8. What a Feeling
9. Anything from the Sound of Music (except that Mother Superior song about fjording rivers)
10. Fancy (Reba) ... you know! "Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy, and they'll be nice to you!"

Vote! Vote! It's your RIGHT!

Hmmm ... let's see ... what else?

Nothing. Nothing else.

Happy Birthday to Me! 1-21-77

Notice of Hiatus

This is to inform you that Kimpossible will be on hiatus indefinitely while she deals with her newfound interest in Working Outside the Home. Lord, help us all.

Clarification

MORE DELICIOUSNESS
Originally uploaded by Kimpossible, HEM, PWTPI.

Seriously y'all: I am so in love with my husband. He is my truest friend and so much more of a kind, compassionate, patient person than I am. I mean, I think he's like The Buddha or Jesus or something.

I just have this theory that marriage is really about just CONSTANT COMPROMISE ... because everyone brings such baggage and even if someone is perfect for you, they still have their baggage (i.e., the "shit" in my previous post). Whenever I hear people talking about how they want out of their marriages I just think about how they'll get married again and discover the same thing in a different form.

I have only been married 4.5 years, but I have learned a lot about the nature of love in those years: It's WORK, it's a VERB, it's HARD sometimes. But it's always worth it.

ION ... above is a picture of my son, Buddy Snickums, aka Snickerdoodle Coochy Coodle. I know I've said it before, but it begs to be said again: DELICIOUS.

Post-Holiday Thoughts

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Is there any excuse for the outfits that The Goose & I have on in this picture? Good Lord.

Can I please just share with y'all some of the conversations held between my parents and me during my parents' New Year's visit? Yes, let me:

Mom: You know you should really have that laser eye surgery. Sheryl and Addy have both had it and they swear by it. Not that it helps Addy. She is still gone from work half the week for her hemmorhoids or her sinuses or something. (Writer's note: Addy's name is Addy Earl Hamm and she dated a man named Junior who left her for his 20-year-old secretary. After this happened my mother said, "I could just skin him.")

Me: I'm not eligible for that surgery because I have a scar on my cornea due to getting a piece of lead in my eye in first grade.

Mom: I know, and I still feel bad about that ... we treated you for pinkeye for nearly a week before we figured out it wasn't working. And then that opthamologist sucked it out with a magnet. With a refrigerator magnet!

My dad: Huh?

Mom: We were just talking about her eyes.

Dad: What about 'em?

Mom: We were just wondering if she's eligible for laser eye surgery.

Me: I just told you that I'm NOT eligible because of that scar.

Dad: Remember the time you got that piece a lead in there? That scared the devil outta me when you had that lead in there. They were tossin' around the idea of surgery and all I could see was havin' a blind girl who could never be Miss Mississippi.

Me: Instead you got a seeing girl who could have been Miss Mississippi but chose to be liberal instead.

Dad: Huh?

Mom: Quit doin' that to him. You know his heart is bad.

Me: Mom, he can't hear anyway.

Mom: Well, he can hear a lot more than you think.

Me: Really? Watch this ... Daddy! George Bush sucks!

Mom: Don't say "sucks." It reminds of that New Kids on the Block concert that you made me chaperone when you were in 7th grade.

Dad: Huh?

Mom: Now she's talkin' about New Kids on the Block.

Me: I am?

Mom: Remember when they encouraged the whole audience to chant "DRUGS SUCK!"?

Me: Yes, I remember very clearly. I remember you leaning over two other moms to say, "We're leavin' soon and I better not catch you using language like that."

Dad: Huh?

Yeah. And when "Wheel of Fortune" is on, you can say just about anything to anybody and get away with it. You can even say things like ISN'T IT JUST TOO BAD THAT THAT SOUTHERN BAPTIST PREACHER GOT CAUGHT PROPOSITIONING AN UNDERCOVER POLICE OFFICER and no one will even notice.

Husband just came in and said, "With that cough, Kim, you really shouldn't be drinkin' wine. You should be drinkin' water."

Then the "f" word was exchanged a few times. Why is the "f" word so effective in expressing what we mean?

Anyway ... I don't listen to him a whole lot.

Can I just be real honest about marriage for a minute?

Marriage is really just about putting up with someone else's shit. So you better pick your shit carefully. I did pretty good at picking a minimalist who, by nature, has very little shit, so I'm proud of myself. But some of y'all who read this really have some SHIT to deal with. And I'm sorry about that. I'm thinking about going back to school to become a therapist and one of my ploys to get patients is to give discounts to self-proclaimed husband eaters. Because likely if you're tempted to eat him, then he deserves it.

I mean, really, I'm totally not complaining. Because Husband irons my clothes and shops for groceries and cooks most of the time. Not that that's ALL ... I mean, I like to hang out with him too ... I'm just sayin'.

Happy New Year y'all.