No, really, I do not want to nit pick any more. As in, never again in a million years! Have you ever used that trite little phrase? Nit picking, who ever really thinks about the true meaning, the origins of nit picking? In my vocabulary it merely meant someone who was overly focused on the details of a matter. So focused, they become a nuisance.
Well, I am here to tell you I have discovered the origins of this term, and honey, it ain't pretty. It all started with a bit of itching. Nothing too unusually really, but I decided to take a closer look. To my horror I found teeny, tiny, shadowy, fiends scurrying about my little one's head. And upon closer inspection, what looked like dandruff, was actually eggs attached to her hair!
Lice, singular form: Louse, a term I reserved for the not so lovely people in my life (admittedly I usually reserve the term for males.... sorry). I can now tell you, make sure the person you are calling a louse truly deserves the title. This parasite is repulsive, its tenacious, and just when you think you are rid of it for good, it rears its ugly little head again.
All this brings us back to nit picking. A female louse lays about 200 eggs called nits, which she attaches to the hair shaft with a strong natural "glue" that is about the consistency and strength of super glue! After special lice killing shampoo, you are supposed to use this gel to comb the nits out with a fine tooth comb. This is the point where I develop a tic and a slightly maniacal laugh. You see, hair gel does not dissolve super glue! Not to mention I have yet to find a comb "fine" enough to scrape these little suckers off her hair. And I must not fail to mention that over the years lice have built up a resistance to the chemicals in the so called killer shampoo. Secretly I think they drink the stuff and laugh it up in little lice bars while waiting for some hot looking lady louse to show up so they can lay 200 or so nits and drive me stark raving mad.....
Ahem. Excuse me. It seems, I got a bit carried away. These things tend to happen when one goes from fairly educated, normal daily life to sitting behind your children chimp-like, picking small creatures from their hair. No longer do I gently caress their heads, no, my fingers now are entwined in their long locks in a primal hunt. It's me or the bugs, and frankly I'm not sure who is going to win this one.
So pass me a banana and Don't Say I Didn't Tell You...
Lisa
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Changing My Name
Well it has happened. Not that I haven't seen this coming for a very long time. No, I've seen little indications here and there, signs along the road if you will, but I chose to ignore them. Well this car came to a screeching halt at the edge of a cliff this morning. There is just no more denying the truth.
Deep breath... I sound like my mother. There. I said it. It's not pretty, but there it is. This morning was filled with a barrage of "Mom?" "Mommy?" "Momma?" and the dreaded Mooooommmmmyyyy!!!!" which sounds very much like a dying siren. I actually said the words, no, said isn't quite right, more like growled the words, "I AM CHANGING MY NAME AND I'M NOT TELLING YOU WHAT IT IS!"
But I have to tell you, my youngest, knocked the wind out of my sails, she had a retort that was much wittier than anything I ever said to my mom when presented with that line (which was often as I recall). She looked up and said in her chipper little voice, "That's okay, I'll still call you Mommy." Admittedly, I had to laugh.
But it doesn't stop there, I'm sad to say. Ah, there are more and more "momisms" being uttered around here these days. See the thing is, I thought my mother had lost a few marbles when she said some of these gems. Now not only am I saying them I understand why she said them! Perhaps I should look into getting a grant and studying the effects of motherhood on sanity.
Take the other night for example. Now for the most part, anyone who knows me well, will tell you I am a touchy-feely, affectionate, cuddly person. However, after an entire day with my girls, sitting down on the couch with the family to watch a show and being covered in small people (and a hairy dog) was not my idea of a good time. I gently tried to remove children, only to discover them attaching to my hips, and leaning over me. Oh and the dog has now given me a pair of fur pants from the knees down.
And then it happened, "I don't want to be hampered!" I yelled and jumped up narrowly missing the large furry dog rug at my feet. My little ones looked confused and one said, "we aren't putting dirty clothes on you." My husband just shakes his head and says, "They just want to be close to you." I snort and think Says the guy who gets to sit in cube by himself all day!
So here it is, someday when you least expect it, you are going to sound like one (or both because Pop you don't get off scot-free) of your parents. And chances are, it isn't going to be pretty. I have even said the dreaded "stop that crying or I'll give you something to cry about." Now I can say with some certainty that I was warned about this and I just thought I would never succumb to such nonsense. SURPRISE!
Don't Say I Didn't Tell You,
Lisa
Deep breath... I sound like my mother. There. I said it. It's not pretty, but there it is. This morning was filled with a barrage of "Mom?" "Mommy?" "Momma?" and the dreaded Mooooommmmmyyyy!!!!" which sounds very much like a dying siren. I actually said the words, no, said isn't quite right, more like growled the words, "I AM CHANGING MY NAME AND I'M NOT TELLING YOU WHAT IT IS!"
But I have to tell you, my youngest, knocked the wind out of my sails, she had a retort that was much wittier than anything I ever said to my mom when presented with that line (which was often as I recall). She looked up and said in her chipper little voice, "That's okay, I'll still call you Mommy." Admittedly, I had to laugh.
But it doesn't stop there, I'm sad to say. Ah, there are more and more "momisms" being uttered around here these days. See the thing is, I thought my mother had lost a few marbles when she said some of these gems. Now not only am I saying them I understand why she said them! Perhaps I should look into getting a grant and studying the effects of motherhood on sanity.
Take the other night for example. Now for the most part, anyone who knows me well, will tell you I am a touchy-feely, affectionate, cuddly person. However, after an entire day with my girls, sitting down on the couch with the family to watch a show and being covered in small people (and a hairy dog) was not my idea of a good time. I gently tried to remove children, only to discover them attaching to my hips, and leaning over me. Oh and the dog has now given me a pair of fur pants from the knees down.
And then it happened, "I don't want to be hampered!" I yelled and jumped up narrowly missing the large furry dog rug at my feet. My little ones looked confused and one said, "we aren't putting dirty clothes on you." My husband just shakes his head and says, "They just want to be close to you." I snort and think Says the guy who gets to sit in cube by himself all day!
So here it is, someday when you least expect it, you are going to sound like one (or both because Pop you don't get off scot-free) of your parents. And chances are, it isn't going to be pretty. I have even said the dreaded "stop that crying or I'll give you something to cry about." Now I can say with some certainty that I was warned about this and I just thought I would never succumb to such nonsense. SURPRISE!
Don't Say I Didn't Tell You,
Lisa
Thursday, January 6, 2011
What's In a Name?
So, what didn't my Momma tell me? Apparently a whole lot of interesting tidbits about the future. I don't think it was because she wanted to keep me in the dark, rather, I think that all mothers secretly fear that if they inform the future generation of the reality that awaits them, perhaps there will be zero population growth. What a tragic thing that would be! After all, I am sure I've read somewhere, that grandchildren are God's reward for not killing your kids. Let's all sip some Chai and think about that for awhile. Or better yet, just sip the Chai.
Now here I am setting myself up as the whistler blower, risking it all ( including future grandchildren) to set you straight. Because, dang, I had no idea growing up would end up like this! So if in the course of one of these blog installments, it suddenly ends mid sentence with a mysterious argggghhhhh, you dear reader, will know there has been a maternal uprising that has set forth to silence me.
Now before I go on, let me just say, I am a Momma. I have five kids living under my roof, and truly, I'm not sure if anything I have to tell them is going to make a bit of difference in the long run. It doesn't matter how shocking the truth is (or isn't), it's really just the nature of the beasts. I'm fairly certain it was the same when I was their age. Oh sure, I'd like to think I hung on every word from my parents' mouths as if they were the sage wisdom from above. But who am I kidding? And what about you? Let's get real for a minute, and if you and I were asked to jot down five pieces of wisdom that our parents gave us, could we do it? I'm not talking about the "Look both ways when you cross the street." kind of advice (but that is good, don't quit on that one) I'm talking the kind of thing that pops back in your mind when you are at a crossroads in your life.
See that, is what I'm talking about, one of the things you are going to wish you knew when you get older is, "Whoa! I have to make decisions that have a major impact on me and other people, and there is no course on how to make the right decision every time." And these cute little "do over" movies just throw that in your face! Tell me you don't have days that you don't wonder what if... I had these books when I was a kid, (shocker I was bookish kinda girl, among other things), they were choose your own adventure books. Instead of reading straight through you would make choices and go to different pages to see how the story turned out.
I loved these kind books, I could read the book over and over and not get bored because it was always changing. However, I eventually got to a point where I would peek ahead and figure out how I wanted the story to end and work backwards through the choices until I knew all the turns to make to get it to come out right. But life doesn't hand us that script and we don't get those options. We end up winging it and hoping for the best.
Kind of like this blog really, a decision to write, I'm sure there will be plenty more decisions about the subject matter. All I can really be sure of is there will be toes getting stepped on, whose toes is any one's guess, most likely my own a great deal of the time. After all, confession is good for the soul, and being able to laugh at yourself is a great blessing. But I'll save that for another time.
Don't Say I Didn't Tell You....
Now here I am setting myself up as the whistler blower, risking it all ( including future grandchildren) to set you straight. Because, dang, I had no idea growing up would end up like this! So if in the course of one of these blog installments, it suddenly ends mid sentence with a mysterious argggghhhhh, you dear reader, will know there has been a maternal uprising that has set forth to silence me.
Now before I go on, let me just say, I am a Momma. I have five kids living under my roof, and truly, I'm not sure if anything I have to tell them is going to make a bit of difference in the long run. It doesn't matter how shocking the truth is (or isn't), it's really just the nature of the beasts. I'm fairly certain it was the same when I was their age. Oh sure, I'd like to think I hung on every word from my parents' mouths as if they were the sage wisdom from above. But who am I kidding? And what about you? Let's get real for a minute, and if you and I were asked to jot down five pieces of wisdom that our parents gave us, could we do it? I'm not talking about the "Look both ways when you cross the street." kind of advice (but that is good, don't quit on that one) I'm talking the kind of thing that pops back in your mind when you are at a crossroads in your life.
See that, is what I'm talking about, one of the things you are going to wish you knew when you get older is, "Whoa! I have to make decisions that have a major impact on me and other people, and there is no course on how to make the right decision every time." And these cute little "do over" movies just throw that in your face! Tell me you don't have days that you don't wonder what if... I had these books when I was a kid, (shocker I was bookish kinda girl, among other things), they were choose your own adventure books. Instead of reading straight through you would make choices and go to different pages to see how the story turned out.
I loved these kind books, I could read the book over and over and not get bored because it was always changing. However, I eventually got to a point where I would peek ahead and figure out how I wanted the story to end and work backwards through the choices until I knew all the turns to make to get it to come out right. But life doesn't hand us that script and we don't get those options. We end up winging it and hoping for the best.
Kind of like this blog really, a decision to write, I'm sure there will be plenty more decisions about the subject matter. All I can really be sure of is there will be toes getting stepped on, whose toes is any one's guess, most likely my own a great deal of the time. After all, confession is good for the soul, and being able to laugh at yourself is a great blessing. But I'll save that for another time.
Don't Say I Didn't Tell You....
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