ABOUT ME

About me: My husband Chuck, our six-year-old Junior, our three-year-old Everette and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Maybe they'd let me if I tickled them after I caught them?

Today? Bleh. Yesterday? Bleh with a shot of tequila.

Yesterday I had the day off so I brought Junior down to see his great-grandmother. She lives in a small senior complex. I like taking Junior there because all the old people come out and poke him and pinch him and either say he’s adorable or fat.

The complex is about 20 minutes from my mother, Linda, so we all met there and went out to lunch.

Why do I keep falling for this again and again? I mean, it’s finally occurred to me why I seem to be able to eat like a horse lately and not gain weight. It’s because at some point, the ritual of abandoning my uneaten food to chase Junior around the restaurant’s perimeter became the norm.

I no longer see restaurants and think dining. Instead I think laps.

I’m actually worried that when I join my adult friends out for dinner I’m going to suck down my food and want to chase them around.

(Would they let me?)

After lunch we took Junior back to my grandmother’s. Her windows face a large cemetery; I can’t figure out if that’s incredibly cruel or a kick in the ass reminder to savor the last few years. She doesn’t mind it, but that’s because she looks at all of her pictures instead of out the window.

Until…dun dun dun—you knew there was a dun dun dun, didn’t you?—yesterday.

Days before, the maintenance guys had replaced her windows and painted the walls. She had had to take down all her pictures and knick-knacks; with the walls finally dry and my mother and me there to help her, she figured her place would be back to normal in a snap.

Except for one thing: She couldn’t remember where anything went. Anything. My mother had the brilliant idea of having her lay the pictures out on the floor to jog her memory, which went down like this:

Grandma: “I think Cousin Fred was on the top right.”

Linda: “Great. Should I nail him up?”

Grandma: “Or was it bottom left? Let me put Aunt Mabel above him and see. Or was it Uncle Roland?”

Linda: “Looks good. Hand me the hammer.”

Grandma [standing back]: “Or was it Estelle? Oh, Christ. I just need to see it from this angle.”

Me: “Junior! Noooooooooooo!”

No sooner had my grandmother played a successful round of floor Memory then Junior would wrestle his way out of my arms and upturn the row. My grandmother, determined to get it just right, would begin the process all over again, only to have Junior foil her. Over and over. It didn’t matter where he was in the apartment—locked in the bathroom, tied up in the closet—he found his way to those damn pictures.

Toddler = nemesis to onset Alzheimer’s Granny.

We left soon after. I think I heard my grandmother tell my mother that if she lived with Junior, she’d be dead in a day. Forget the sappy “You’re special, grandson.” Where is that on a greeting card?

22 comments:

Joanie said...

If there is ever a next time, take photographs of the walls before you remove any pictures.

And LOL and the thought of you chasing your adult friends around the restaurant!

Keely said...

I'd let you, if you shared the tequila first.

Frogs in my formula said...

I see I should have written a post about chasing my friends, tickling them and then doing shots of tequila. When will I learn that chick fun trumps forgetful grannies?

Oh I'm so old.

Suzi said...

Yeah, don't think the friends would appreciate you chasing them around the restaurant. I think what you need is a night out to remember what it's like to ENJOY fine dining. Let me know when you need a sitter....I have 3 boys who would entertain or wear him out.

Julia said...

Just so you know you are not alone in this spastic behavior from your child I have attached a post explaining what I experience daily...http://julia-oursimplelife.blogspot.com/2008/10/battle-of-table.html. Not that you have anything better to do with your time.

Seriously, I cant believe what I have to do to get the kids to sit still. Recently we started using a fly swatter to "herd" Wyatt when he starts to get up. I can luckily still lock Ella down. This is the most frustrating thing to me aside from my son's penchant for acting like he has Turret's Syndrome.

WhisperingWriter said...

My son refused to sit when we would go out. He's six and much better now.

However, I have a nearly two-year-old daughter and she'll sit, but it has to be on my lap. So a lot of my food ends up on top of her head. Oops.

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Stephanie said...

Poor Junior and Poor Granny too... What traumatic days for them both.
LOL about chasing your friends around the restaurant though!

Anne said...

I don't mean to sound insensitive, but, since she couldn't remember, couldn't you nail them any old way and she wouldn't know the difference? Just tell her that is how they were.

Otherwise, Joanie had a good idea about the photos of the wall before taking down the photos (although I guess it is too late for that now).

kyooty said...

do you have any pictures of your GM in her apartment? maybe they would have the order of the pictures?

Petra a.k.a The Wise (*Young*) Mommy said...

heh, give her my kids and it would be an hour.

Don't feel bad, all toddlers are a tornado waiting to happen. That is why I don't take my kids anywhere anymore. Depressing, yes, but much less exhausting and mentally damaging.

Halftime Lessons said...

LOL
I always love your writing...I have an exercise going on today that might be right up the alley of your beautiful twisted mind...come see if you can.
Jay

Halftime Lessons said...

And how depressing to have your window facing a cemetery?

Nicole said...

LOL! Chasin', ticklin', and tequila? Sounds like something my mexi hubbs would come up with! *hee hee*

Just imagined a playdate with my rambunctious daughter and your little guy--yes, tequila required!

Frogs in my formula said...

LOL, I think "mentally damaging" captures it perfectly!

justusseven said...

Love your blog!

Traci said...

all moms can sympathize with the running around restaurants after their kids - i think that's why I eat so fast - even though my son is 9! My non-child-having friends always stare at my like i'm a vacuum cleaner just sucking down my food as fast as possible!

Love your blog!

Michele said...

I love this post! And, I always laugh out loud when I see your header! What a crack up!

Stacy (Random Cool Chick) said...

As usual, I'm laughing at my computer screen...hubby thinks I've gone totally nuts, but I don't care...LOL!!

I'm with Keely - I'd let you chase as long as you share the tequila! ;)

Holly said...

Hang in there... I would say things will get better, but they won't for a really long time. The next few years are just annoying. He will finally stop running around, but then he'll just talk WAY to loud about how much he HATES what is in front of him. And then start pointing out those who are sitting close by and screaming about how gross their plates look as well... sorry, but it's the truth. At least there's tequila.

mrsbear said...

There's a reason why women don't reproduce in their old age, their joints would never allow for the constant child chasing. "Dead in a day," I love that.

ModernMommy said...

Okay it took me forever to get the title. Too funny.