Dharma Boomerang

Every once in a while you see or hear something that makes you do a double take. A 'what-you-talkin-bout-Willis' if you will. Like this morning when I passed a semi that was decked out with an array of stuffed animals across the dashboard. That merited a turn to the side, narrowed eyes and questioning look from me to the male driver.

Yesterday I was rushing through Kohls to return something, and I passed a woman with infant twins, a boy and a girl. The boy was in a stroller and the mom was holding the girl. The girl was crying her little eyes out. As I walked by, I heard the mom say, "Oh, what's the matter, Dharma? What's the matter, Greg?"

Say WHAT?

Seriously? You named your children after a 90's sitcom starring Jenna Elfman?

Seriously?

I turned to stare, my mouth agape, at the woman and her twins. Had there been a pole or stationary object in front of me I would have hit it. Had I not been in a rush I might have stopped dead in my tracks to continue to stare at the woman in disbelief. I mean, if you're going to name girl and boy twins after a 90's TV show, why not name them Brandon and Brenda, or Darlene and DJ, or Ross and Rachel for Christ's sake.

x-posted on my myspace blog

LOLrus :3

This week's viral video featured a blubbery mammal showing off some fancy flipperwork with a trainer. My heart is all atwitter for this loveable guy.

One inflatable monkey away from a meltdown

... and then the world played a cruel and horrible joke on me and my family and TOOK DOWN THE BIG INFLATABLE MONKEY ON THE ROOF OF THE TIRE STORE.

Its tenure was exactly one week, but the impact will be felt for months to come. When we had to go to meet friends for dinner Saturday night, the promise of seeing the big monkey was the only thing that would get Doodle in the car. And then it wasn't there.

"I see big monkey, daddy," Doodle said from the back seat as we got onto the highway. The big monkey appears right after we get on.
"It's coming," he answered. When he and I saw the monkeyless building, we quickly scrambled for reasons.
"Uh," I stammered. "The monkey is sleeping!"
"No!" Doodle said.
"Yeah," my husband agreed. "He's sleeping, bud. There's nothing we can do."
"No, Daddy," Doodle insisted.
"No, Daddy."
Pause.
"NO, DADDY!"
Pause.
"NO, DADDY!"
Pause.
"NO, DADDY!"

And so on, until I couldn't hold back the laughter The fact that this was somehow Daddy's fault was too much for me to handle.

Sunday, he requested the monkey's presence once again. We told him the monkey had gone bye-bye, and again, Daddy got blamed. Heh.

This morning, same deal. Except when he asked if we would see the big monkey, I replied, "we'll try." And that seemed to work.

Maybe, in time, he'll forget this monkey business.

How'd he do that?
It's been a while since Uncle Dom had a mental break and ritualistically brought up random objects from the basement and deposited them in the living room. But the house is reaching new proportions of messiness, and the basement, especially, has become the dumping ground for Doodle's toys, puzzles, cars, and things which cars can drive upon.

This is definitely my fault, because the past two, maybe three months at work have been so relentlessly busy that I am typically a zombie by the time I get home. The weekends are spent gearing up for another crazy week. That is starting to dissipate now, but not by much. I'm working five day weeks rather than six day weeks. So I've got that going for me.

Anyway, the cleanliness of the house has definitely suffered. It's to a point now where I can barely deal with it myself. It makes me crazy to even look at it, and the thought of diving in to straighten things out is overwhelming.

It's taken its toll on my large black and white beast, as well.

So it began with a reindeer stuffed animal, a basement dweller, that was inexplicably in the living room one day this week. It wasn't there the night before, and to my knowledge Doodle was in his crib all night. Therefore, the next logical suspect is a four-legged creature with a past reputation for such things.

The reindeer was one thing.

But then he outdid himself.

Doodle and his dad had been playing with balloons, and there were two in the basement: a green one and a blue one. They were just regular rubber balloons (or latex or whatever), that my husband blew up and then they tossed them around one snowy weekend morning.

My husband found the green one in the living room one morning this week, but it had suffered a casualty and was deflated. He didn't think anything of it at the time, and threw the balloon carcass away.

However, yesterday morning, the blue balloon, fully inflated, made an appearance in the living room. Doodle threw it down the basement stairs, and last night, right before I went to bed, I noticed it again, back in the living room. Still inflated.

How on earth did he manage a feat like that? I am impressed. Maybe it's because I just trimmed his claws on Tuesday.

The brink of disaster
It's been touch and go with Doodle since he's been getting this molar. Yesterday, for instance, he was in great spirits, until I came home, and then apparently every emotion, every bit of pain, every whine he'd bottled up during the day came pouring out. I think it's sweet that he thinks of me when he is repressing his rage.

Anyway, for the past few days, we've noticed a large inflatable gorilla flying atop a tire store that is along the highway on our route to and from daycare. The gorilla, it brings joy and balance to our lives.

This morning, I was trying to roust Doodle from his slumbers. "Come on, it's time to get up and get ready for school," I said. This was met with the sight of Doodle pulling his blanket over his head and pretending he didn't hear me.

I tried again.

"Come on, it's time to get up and watch George," I said.
That merited the cracking open of one eyelid, then the closing of said eyelid, and the resuming of pseudo-sleep.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off, both eyes opened, and he said to me, "I see big monkey?"

Bingo. We were up and at 'em in no time flat.

As we passed the inflatable gorilla, I pointed it out to Doodle, but he was looking out the other window and MISSED IT.

Oh. My. God.

Had we not been running superduper late, as in, one more minute and Doodle would have missed breakfast, I would have pulled over and made sure he saw that damn gorilla. Because a child without his inflatable gorilla fix is ... well, it's just wrong.

Hell Ohio freezes over

Last week, we had a bit of an ice storm. I am of the mind that snow and ice are pretty, as long as I don't have to drive in it/walk in it/touch it/shovel it. That's why I got married, quite frankly.



The trees all had a nice glassy covering on them. It was quite tranquil. Until rush hour the next day, and then it was quite ... suck.



Here is a look at our backyard last week. Notice the placement of the sandbox (that thing in the background with the four legs artistically placed at the end of the wind catcher thing).



Being cooped up indoors causes people to do strange things. Me? I drink raspberry vodka and soda, listen to Hall and Oates albums and write long messages to old boyfriends on facebook that ultimately get deleted when I come to my senses. OCDoodle does things like this ...



Please note that before the world froze, all of these letters were in a nice, aesthetically pleasing scramble format all over the refrigerator door. One day, my child decided to line up the letters along the edge. Here, Uncle Dom ponders this new alignment of the universe.



You'll notice that Doodle actually went back and separated out all the red letters, and then the green letters. It's some kind of strange toddler voodoo.

Then, Friday, we had a bit of a flurry. A sprinkling, really. Did I mention that this light dusting of snow coincided with Doodle getting one of his two-year molars? Or perhaps two of his two-year molars? The good news? I didn't have to drive to work on Friday because I was home with a feverish, crabby child. The bad news? I was home with a feverish, crabby child.

As you can see, we hardly got but a smattering of snow... remember that sandbox? It's there somewhere.



We didn't leave the house from Friday afternoon, after a harrowing trip to the doctor's office to find out that it's not an earache, thank you, drive through, please do not pass go until you pay $25, until sometime Sunday.



Now that that's all behind us, we can look forward to things like St. Patrick's Day. See? We can even wear crazy St. Patty's day hats. Try and disregard ths fact that my son is wearing the sweatshirt of the devil's football team. I didn't buy it for him.



Yep. We're all on the mend. The snow has subsided, the roads are clear, the fever has broken, we've sprung forward. And the sweet voice of Tom Hamilton is back on the radio calling spring training games. It won't be long now.

Text #2
While we're on the topic of texting and my boss... last week I was out of town with him at a conference. We were sitting in the hotel bar with another girl I work with. The hotel has been under construction and our rooms are newly-redone.

"You know, I think I'm the first person to stay in my room," my boss said.
"I know I'm not," said the other gal.
"Why's that?" he asked.
"I had dirty towels on my floor, and ... pubic hairs ..." she replied, uttering the last phrase under her breath.
My boss is hard of hearing in the best of conditions, and in a crowded bar, his hearing is no good at all.
"What?" he asked. But she wouldn't repeat it. She and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
He looked at me. "What'd she say?" he asked.
"I'm not repeating it," I told him.
"Why not?" he asked.
"I'm just not. God. I can't even look at you," I said, putting my hand in front of my face, traces of blotchy red marks beginning to crawl across my neck.
"Text it to me," he said.
"I am NOT texting it to you!" I told him.

But being out of town in a hotel bar with your co-workers makes you do strange things. Several seconds later, my boss received a text that said "pubes" and nothing more. I don't claim to be proud of my actions. Really.

Text
This morning, even though all the roads have been clear for at least 24 hours, traffic was horrible. I was running late already, since Doodle insisted that I make him eggs. Usually he eats breakfast at school, but he's been getting one of his 2-year molars, so I made him eggs in case he was unable to eat at school.

Anyhoo. I'm sitting in a traffic jam and I send my boss a text. "On my way in. Traffic sux"

Less than a minute later, I get a text back that says "U sux"

We're tight like that.

Fight the power
Doodle got a time out at school yesterday for making an attempt to escape from his classroom. The toddler room is connected to the staff coat/break room, and there is a separate door the staff uses to enter/exit their room. Doodle was trying to make his break through the staff door.

This isn't the first time he's been caught hightailing it out of his classroom. Once, in the summer, he was busted attempting to lead an entire group of toddlers to their freedom.

I'm thinking that yesterday was the trial run for something on a larger scale. He's got something up his sleeve, for sure. When I asked him about it yesterday, he pretended it didn't happen. Highly suspicious.

This doesn't overly concern me, because let's say he did manage to get the door open (unlikely, since he can't turn the doorknob). He still has to go down a hallway, past the office where the head of the school works, and then figure out how to open the outside door. In short, there's no way he could get out of the building on his own inertia.

What does worry me is the pattern that is forming. Is he a future class cutter? Will he be spending fifth period out in the parking lot smoking doobies?

Britney-in-waiting
So we're watching tv the other night, maybe it was the Oscars. Miley Cyrus came on screen. My husband turns to me and says, "how long do you give her before she shaves her head?"

Happy March!
In honor of spring being just around the corner, and daylight savings time, and Easter, and St. Patrick's Day, and all things wonderful about March, I offer Doodle singing an ever-so-seasonal tune you may recognize.

American Idol Drinking Game, 2008 Edition
By now, these seasons of American Idol have become so boring and predictable, so pitchy, so safe, that I can get through a typical 90-minute episode in about 15 minutes, with all the fast forwarding. I watch the beginning of a performance, and if it's good, I'll watch the whole thing. If I'm bored, which usually happens within the first five seconds, I fast forward. I'll watch the judges' feedback, fast forward through anything Ryan Seacrest has to say, the commercials, and any other extraneous filler (see: Paula's craptastic video) that gets thrown in along the way.

In order to make things interesting, I have thought of some phrases and occurrances to use for the American Idol drinking game. If you are unfamiliar with the rules, whenever one of the following happens, *swig*:

Use of the words:
safe
pitchy
Paula uttering the phrase "in the pocket"
relevant
"(NAME) is back this week"
"after the break"
dreadful
cabaret

References to:
Simon's accent
Simon's wardrobe
someone's performance being likened to a lounge act

During performance:
singer begins on stool, then stands at chorus of song
singer begins on top of stairs
singer points to the band
audience waves their arms in the air
swirly graphics behind singer

I has been warned
Driving Doodle to day care this morning, I got a stern talking-to.
"Mommy, don't hit me," Doodle said from the back seat.
"Don't hit you? I would never hit you. It's not nice to hit," I said.
"Don't hit Daddy," he said. "Go to time out."
"I would never hit Daddy. It's not nice to hit," I said.

I was also instructed not to pull Doodle's or Daddy's hair, and finally not to bite Doodle's or Daddy's finger.

I guess he told me!

Fall Out Boy
I knew this day was coming.

Doodle is still in a crib, despite other kids his age being in big boy and big girl beds already. There hasn't been a reason for us to switch him over. He's been perfectly content in his crib, and we've been perfectly content knowing that he isn't going anywhere in the night.

The thought of escaping just hasn't occurred to him. I'm told that I hightailed it from my crib at 18 months of age. Doodle is a year past that mark, and still, nothing.

Nothing until yesterday.

He woke up from his nap while my husband and I were in the midst of preparations for the Super Bowl. We were having the in-laws over for the game. I went to his room, and he said he didn't want to get up. He playfully slung one leg over the side of the crib and said, "I play horsie!" But then he took his leg down and sat back down in his crib.

I went back to the kitchen and resumed working on making my homemade guacamole. The kitchen is within shouting distance of Doodle's room, so I answered his constant calls of "Mommy! Mommy!"
"What?"
"Come here."

I'd go to his room and he'd say, "No, Mommy, go away."

So I went back to guac-making. And, with any good guac maker, the truth lies in the testing. I needed a chip to make sure the guac was up to snuff. When I reached for the bag, it fell off the counter.

"What happened, Mommy?" Doodle yelled from the bedroom.
"I dropped the chips," I called back to him.
"I want chips," he said.

Five seconds later ...

BOOM

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!!"

I ran into Doodle's room to see him on the floor, screaming his head off. I picked him up and comforted him, and asked if he fell boom. He nodded through his tears. Miraculously, when the offer of chips was brought up, his tears dissipated and he even had a sampling of the guac. (And double dipped, I might add.)

This morning, he put his leg over the side again, when I was watching him. But then he said, "don't want to fall boom."

So maybe he won't try it again any time soon. On the other hand, it may be time for us to consider the big boy bed.

Office phenomenon #428
Employee #1 is standing over (copy machine/fax machine/printer), baffled look on his or her face. He/she opens the paper drawer, shuts it, stares. Looks around the side of the machine. Stares.

Employee #2 walks by and notices Employee #1. "Is it broken?" they ask. Employee #1 nods.

Employee #2 then opens the paper drawer, shuts it, stares. Maybe opens a side drawer. Peers inside.

Both continue to stare, baffled, at broken machine.

Employee #3 walks by, joins in the fray. "Does it need toner?" they ask.

"Tried that," says Employee #1.
"Hmm," says Employee #3, and opens the paper drawer, then shuts it. And stares.

Repeat until all orifices of said machine have been probed, and problem remains unsolved. Employee #1, 2 or 3 suggest they call someone for repair.

Feeling old, and then young again
Last weekend, I made a stop at Ye Olde Liquore Storee to pick up some libations. I don't often patronize liquor stores, becasue they sell my sissy drinks right at the grocery store. However, my supply of Tanqueray was dwindling, and it was time to make the trek.

Having just turned 32, I would have loved nothing more than to be carded at the liquor store. But I wasn't. The two twentysomething girls in line in front of me were carded. Next to them I guess I looked like an old bag.

I went home totally deflated that some scraggly liquor store worker deemed me older than 21.

This weekend, my husband and I went out to eat and apparently, in this restaurant, which we have been to a million times previously, you have to be 21 or older after 5. So the hostess carded us both. When she saw my age she said, "Oh, I would have never guessed!"

"Thank you," I said. I felt as happy as a little girl. Or at least, a 21-year-old girl.

Triple double
Today I turn thirty-deuce. When I told Doodle this morning that it was my birthday, he of course replied, "it's my birthday too!"

Funny. You think I would have remembered that.

Because it looked fun, and because I have my iPod on shuffle already
Stolen from Green Tuna.

Here's how it works:
1. Put your iTunes on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write that song name down no matter what.

Q. What would best describe your personality?
A. Message in a Bottle - the Police
(sending out an SOS to the world?)

Q. If some one says it's okay you say...
A. "Grey Street" - Dave Matthews Band

Q. What do you like in a guy/girl?
A. I Did It -- Dave Matthews Band
Heh.

Q.How do you feel today?
A. Belief - John Mayer

Q.What is your life's purpose?
A. Sweetest Goodbye - Maroon 5
Ouch.

Q. What is your motto?
A. Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk - Rufus Wainwright
I guess.

Q. What do your friends think of you?
A. Run Run Run - Phoenix
*sniffle*

Q. What do you think of your friends?
A. It Looks like Love - Josh Rouse

Q. What do you think of your parents?
A. Through With You - Maroon 5

Q.What do your parents think of you?
A. First of the Gang to Die - Morrissey

Q. What do you think about very often?
A. Crush - Dave Matthews Band

Q. What do you think of your best friend?
A. Two - Ryan Adams

Q. What do you think of the person you love?
A. Easy Lover - Phil Collins/Philip Bailey
HAH!!!!!

Q.What is your life story?
A. It's All Been Done - Barenaked Ladies
Fitting, strangely...

Q. What do you want to be when you grow up?
A. Halloweenhead - Ryan Adams

Q. What do you think when you see the person you love?
A. Must Get Out - Maroon 5

Q. What is your hobby/interest?
A. What a Fool Believes - Doobie Brothers


Q. What will they play at your funeral?
A. Loungin' - LL Cool J

Q. What is your biggest secret?
A. Holiday - Madonna

I have more in common with Jessica Simpson than I'm willing to admit
I recently realized that three of the men Jessica Simpson has dated, post Nick Lachey, have been on my top "wouldn't kick em out of bed for eating crackers" list:

1. Adam Levine
2. John Mayer
3. Tony Romo

This is horrifying to me. More because I can't believe I have the same taste in men as Jessica Simpson. If she dates Peter Krause next I will be suicidal.

Year of the Fox?
I am enjoying the day off today. Although, the day off came complete with a Doodle, so it's not quite the leisurely off day I may have liked it to be. Doodle and I went to my office and saw my co-workers. He was incredibly shy at first, and then was running rampant in the executive offices (which were shockingly empty) by the time we left.

As I got off my exit on the turnpike, a reddish blur on the side of the road caught my eye. There, chillin' out among some tall grass, was a fox. And not of the Michael J. variety either.

I don't know about your parts, but in these parts, I have never, EVER, in my entire life, seen a fox. Maybe they're around here and I never knew.

On New Years Eve, I take every little out-of-the-ordinary happening as an omen of things to come, so I am trying to come up with some sort of reason why the fox revealed itself to me. No, I haven't been drinking yet.

Here is an interesting bit I found online: (from houseofnames.com)
This fox is a symbol of the devil tempting man; therefore, it may be a reminder to the bearer to stay alert and resist temptation.

Hmm. I'll keep that in mind as I enter 2008.

Happy New Year everybody!