In Which I Probably Write Enough For a Novel

You've been warned. I have a lot to post.

First. My Mom came for a visit. You need to know that my relationship with my mother has been strained since I was a senior in HS. When I was younger we were thick as thieves, and it seems to me that when I started to grow up and away she wigged out. I think she would say I wigged out. Whatever. This is the nature of things, but it meant that our togetherness was weakening. Add to this the fact that she left for Russia to "Do the Lord's Work", while I spent the next year un-xianing myself. Religion was a huge part of our relationship when I was growing up, and I removed it. I removed it, spat on it, kicked it in the nuts and did a little jig. Every visit we've had since then has been strained by a tacit conversation about this issue in my head. In the beginning it wasn't so tacit, actually. Mom would remind me of what the lord wanted, and I would blow her off. I made it more and more clear that I didn't want to hear about his plan for me, so Mom got quieter and quieter. I knew (or thought I did) what Mom thought about the way I lived, so I got quieter and quieter too. Once Boy was old enough to understand what was what, I told her in no uncertain terms that proselytizing conversations with him would mean no further visits. I told her we needed to have a relationship with each other without god being there, and she told me she didn't know how. I said we'd have to learn. She cut her visit short and left.

This visit with my Mom would be the first time I felt like we made progress with our relationship as a twosome. We talked about when and why I quit believing in God, and she acknowledged that she wouldn't be changing my mind. I told her that I knew religion worked for her, and I wouldn't try to change her mind either. I know it pains her to see the choices I make, but I'm finally growing up enough to let that be her bag. I'm telling her things even when I know they won't make her happy. Our relationship can grow into something new because I'm done letting it be about pleasing her. Yay us!

So while we were doing all this growing and relating, I came down with a cold. And just as I was getting better, Mom caught a stomach bug. And right after she left the Bean came down with it, so I spent a day or two in her bedroom comforting her and cleaning her up and feeling pretty poorly myself (although I wasn't puking). Because dealing with a sicko wasn't, um, swell enough on its own merits, I decided to step on my glasses and break them in two. This being the last pair I had that I was willing to leave the house in. I'm down to my welfare glasses.

Ahhhh, my welfare glasses. I tend to not pay much attention to how I look. I can go for days without looking in the mirror. I'll run to the grocery store in yoga pants and unbrushed hair. I never wear makeup. Ask me to wear these glasses in public, though, and I feel a need to apologise to strangers for my grotesque appearance. The rational part of my brain posted an alert that this was odd and needed examination. I've spent a lot of time looking in the mirror, trying to decide if they're really that bad. It's hard for me to admit this, but I don't think they are. They aren't good, but they don't make small children cry. Maybe I'm hung up on them because they really are welfare glasses. They are the standard issue glasses that medicaid buys. Medicaid buys a set of frames that don't really fit my head. Also? Medicaid buys you low index lenses. These factors combine to create a heavy clunky seeing device that falls off my head every time I bend over. I mean, they completely fall off. Of my head. When I bend over, they fall off of my head. They frequently wander about my nose if I look down or turn too quickly, which is also annoying. When I first started wearing them I thought I needed to get over myself, because I can see through them and that makes them good enough, but after spending a week with them I think I'm justified in buying a new pair. They actually hurt me because I keep trying to use my head muscles to keep them on/up.

Let's sum up: I have these glasses that I hate, but I think I need to get over myself and wear them because I can see through them and I don't want to be the kind of person who lets their external trappings dictate their self image, but they fall off and make my head hurt so maybe I should get new ones, but I worry this argument is speciously justifying an unnecessary purchase, and jumping Jehoshaphat I know how to over think a thing, don't I.

I'll be buying new glasses, necessary or not.

Let's see, what else. OH! Mouse shenanigans! So we got our first mouse in our new digs. I was using the cast iron skillet to brown some onions, when I realized there was an extra special ingredient*. Simon and I tied up several traps worth of pepperoni, then laughed at Lucy as she set them off, then set them up in dark corners around the kitchen. The next morning Boy came downstairs to discover the mouse sitting on the counter, staring at him. Staring at him with huge, impossibly cute eyes. He caught it with a colander, and left me this note**:

"DO NOT PICK UP THIS COLANDER. THE MOUSE IS TRAPPED UNDER IT. I SWEAR ON MY LIFE THAT THERE IS A LIVE MOUSE UNDER HERE THAT WILL TOTALLY TAKE OFF IF YOU PICK UP THE COLANDER.

Love,
Boy

P.S.
Can we use live traps from now on?"

Simon and I plunked the girl into a tupperware and he dropped it off on the side of the road on his way to work. Lucy set off a trap again, because she's stupid and doesn't learn, and the baby picked it up and sucked on the pepperoni. There haven't been any more mice leavings, so we may be done. Wouldn't that be nice?

Last night I went grocery shopping. Not news, really. I mention it because I've been trying to spend less on groceries. I was hypothesizing to MyFarmer that the results would follow a curve that would go down at first, but then go back up and reach a plateau close to the starting point. I've been trying to only buy what we need for our menu, not buy whatever we're out of. I figured that at first we'd save some money, but once we used up what was on hand the bill would go back up because we'd need every ingredient in a recipe. I think we may have reached that point. We'll see. I only bought what we needed for the menu, but the total was still $180. For one week. Not counting the milk, butter and eggs I buy elsewhere. True, there will be several of next week's meals coming out of this week's purchases, but will there be enough to even out? I'd like to keep it to $150, including toilet paper and coffee and beer. Even that seems like a lot, but unless I start buying the kind of food that comes with coupons, or I start growing the kind of food we eat, I don't see it happening.

Ok, enough. I think that's all I meant to blog about. Whilst I sat here typing the girls tried to strangle each other, sampled Cocktail Sauce and decided they liked it both as a food and as a paint, festooned the dining room with flash cards, and took off all their clothes.

I should go now.
ephelba

*Mouse turds! Honestly people, keep up with me here:)
** He also wrote this note, but didn't leave it because it was April First and he thought I'd think it was a joke:
"DO NOT PICK UP THIS COLANDER!
Dear Mom,
This morning I saw the mouse just kinda sitting there (he was very much alive though) so I picked up the colander and put it over him. He's wicked cute. Just remember, if you pick up the colander, he's gone! I leave it up to you to think up what to do.

Love,
Boy"

I find both of these notes to be unbearably endearing. Maybe it's the way the first note is in his atrocious cursive, and the second is in all caps.