bittersweet symphony

Every time I hear this song, I always picture myself driving in a convertible, getting away from life. And then I remember I'm not Annette in Cruel Intentions and that my boyfriend, Sebastian, didn't die and his stepsister/sometimes wannabe lover, Kathryn, wasn't the cause of everything that sucked in high school because her boyfriend dumped. And my life wasn't a 90's remake of Les Liaisons Dangereuses, a.k.a, Dangerous Liaisons. Because that was a really good novel written in the 18th century and showed the depravity of some people.

And if this song would stop playing on the radio so often, I would probably stop thinking I'm a 90's Reese Witherspoon.

normalcy of tattoos

My daughter's best friend pointed out my new tattoo the other day, asking why I wrote on myself. I told her its a tattoo in memory of my mom. B shrugged it off and started talking about a movie they were going to watch, which kind of got me thinking.

Tattoos are pretty much the norm in her life when it comes to me and my side of the family. It's not unusual for her to spend the weekend with her dad and she'll see me with new ink afterwards. My mom kind of went crazy with the tattoos after her first bout with cancer. I'm talking full sleeves.

If her friends notice and say something, she'll even proudly point out how many are dedicated to her (which is 4 at the moment) It doesn't even phase her. Most of her friends parents don't have as many or any at all, so those kids are intrigued. For B, it's a part of everyday life and something that's as normal to her as going to the pool in summer. But she insists that she's only going to get one when she grows up. I grin and nod my head because who knows if that's even going to happen.

It's kind of amazing how adaptable kids really are.

you were meant for me . . .

No, not really. I'm talking about the Jewel song that came out '95. I loved this song. I would listen to it everytime it came on the radio without fail. I bought the CD because it was awesome so how could I not?

Okay, so I'm driving home the other day and "You Were Meant For Me" came on the radio. Feeling a bit nastolgic, I sang along. There's one line I never questioned as a teen. Everything rhymed so I didn't care.

"I never put wet towels on the floor anymore "

What grown person leaves their wet towls on the floor? Seriously, do adults do this? Do they just leave the wet thing lying on the floor so it can not dry and get stinky, and then use it again? My kid does and then gets reminded daily to go and hang it up.

Can I just point out how gross that is? And then I started thinking that maybe the guy left because he was really disgusting this practice was and he was sick of reminding her to pick up her stuff. And maybe he was worn out that she always forget her keys in the lock and refused to turn off lights when she wasn't even in the room. Maybe he really didn't want to pay that high ass electrical bill.

Yeah, I know. I have way too much time on my hands driving up to San Francisco.

songs on the radio

There's a lot of songs out there that talk about the love a father has for his daughter. I'm cool with that, because the ones that stick around and do a decent job deserve some credit.

What I don't hear are a lot of songs about a mother's love for her daughter. It's like we could never love our daughter's as much as their father could. At least not enough to write a song about it. I have just a tiny problem with that. It could possibly be because my own sperm donor was non-existent in my life, so I would never write a song about how much he cared. Because he didn't. He liked making babies, he just didn't like raising them or being in any part of their lives. My mom was the one who stuck around and sacrificed while sperm donor continued making more babies he didn't give a sh*t about. My mom loved me, my father didn't.

So why can't people write the same number of songs about a mom as they seem to write about a dad?

sleepiness

Every night before I go to bed, I always check in her in room. It's an old habit that will never die hard and it's a habit I don't think I'll ever break. I do it to make sure she's okay, comfortable, and covered.

Most nights she's tossed the sheets as far away from her feet as possible, because she hates her feet being hot. Her stuffed animals she insisted she can't sleep without have been kicked off the island.

And I'm in awe. I get that overwhelming feeling of amazement because once upon time she spent every moment in my belly. I'm amazed that half of everything she is came from me. And right next to that feeling of amazement is that thing called unconditional love. Because I love that kid with everything that's in me.




When she's sleeping, she look like a cutie pie. And it's the only time she won't talk back :D.