It may look like just an ordinary table. Sadly, some may think it ugly. Both couldn’t be further from the truth. What lies buried deep within the wood are years and years of memories. Of laughter. Of love.

Once upon a time, this table was the only table in my grandmother’s modest little apartment.

If you’ve read my “Yup, I’ve Got Boobs” (http://lifeinmonkeyland.blogspot.com/2009/10/yup-ive-got-boobs.html) post, you have caught a small glimmer into the awesomeness that was my grandmother. Her and my aunt were the first and only real strong female role models that I had growing up. Whenever I look at my family and wonder how I fit in, I think of them and it begins to make sense. She was also the only grandparent I’ve ever known.

Grandma passed away December 30th, 1999 of Pancreatic Cancer. Fuck you very much again Cancer. I remember someone looking at me and saying “Awww she just missed seeing the new millennium.” She was the feistiest 85 year old you would have ever met and I know exactly what her response would have been “New millennium, same shytting thing.” Someday I plan on writing a series of posts on her. Not only because the stories are great, but because they need to be preserved so I may hand them down to the girls and they can hand them down. To listen to them tell their children how great grandma rode to work on the back of a Harley and made the best Matzoh Ball soup ever is something I hope I live to hear.

Someday. But not today. I don’t have the strength in me today to open that all up. This last year has been one continual fight against the very type of beast that took my grandmother and my aunt. And it has gotten overwhelming. There have been days where I am so tired I just want to curl in a ball and cry. But then I think of them, take a deep breath and think “I’ve got this.” I miss them both so much.

Today I stood in the pouring rain, holding the door open as my parents brought it out of the back of their minivan. As soon as the first chair came out, I caught my breath. By the time the table came out, the lump in my throat was huge. I kept trying to swallow it, hoping the rain would help me wash it down. I haven’t seen it since before she passed.

Now it sits in our home where our memories, our laughter, our love can be added to those already within it. Its mere presence has already brought me comfort. I want to hug it, to sit at it and lay my head upon it… listening for her voice, smelling for Matzoh Ball soup.

To many it may look like a simple table. To me it is a piece of my grandma.

For as long as I can remember, I have always taken mass amounts of crap from someone before I stand up for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll stand up for those I care about in a heartbeat. Yet, I’ve always seemed to subconsciously deem myself unworthy of the same thing.

I’ve long given people chance after chance and had a hard time cutting ties. It’s always seemed like giving up on someone. I don’t like to give up on people.

But, the flipside is not doing so is giving up on me. So, I’ve gotten better at voicing my feelings when they’ve been smacked around a bit. And today I took that one step further.

It’s going to seem ridiculously silly I’m sure, but it was a breakthrough to me. I’ve never actually “unfriended” or “deleted” or “unfollowed” someone I’ve known. I’ve blocked some crazies here and there but never someone I once deemed a friend (or more.)

Until now.

Facebook is different for me than anywhere else online. The monkeys have names. People on there have known me my whole life. Seen me naked. Gave me tissue when I’ve cried. Hell watched me give birth. There’s an intimacy the exists there that doesn’t anywhere else.

I realized that if someone is okay with being a complete and utter douchebag to me, than they do not have the right to that intimacy.

So, one click of the button has solved that. And it feels pretty damn good. 🙂 It also kinda sucks.

So, if you follow me on the twitters or the facebook then you know I took the monkeys a rummagin’ yesterday. You may also know that it was the “$10.00 for whatever you can fit in your bag” day and one of the women was not so thrilled when she saw my bag. For I am 1. a single mom and b. have mad Tetris skills.

The haul?

8 skirts
6 pairs of shorts
2 dresses
2 pairs of monkey pjs’s
1 monkey sun visor
23 tops (mostly T shirts)

All pretty hipster wearing brand names.

So, that works out to be roughly to be roughly 24 cents a piece. 🙂

And it’s all stuff I can layer the mess outta when it gets warmer. 🙂

Don’t ever let anyone tell you Tetris would not come in handy!!

Allow me to help you wipe it off.

I’m pretty sure you’ve heard, Amy Winehouse died yesterday at the age of 27. Now, I will be the first to admit that it wasn’t a huge shock. What was though was the level of disrespect that I witnessed surrounding it. It broke my heart and made me sick.

I’m the last person to have anything resembling celebrity worship in me. (Okay, I totally squee’d when I met Wil Wheaton, but common, it’s Wil Wheaton.) I went on a HUGE rant when I woke up the morning after the earthquakes in Haiti that affected the lives of nearly 3 million people and Lady GaGa was the top trending item on Twitter. Why? Because she was exhausted. Eat a sammich! I tell you what though, if she had died (so very much not wishing that upon her or anyone else for that matter), I would have understood why that would be everywhere.

No matter what your opinion of her, you can not deny the talent she had. She was brave and groundbreaking. She had an insanely powerful voice that was belted from a fragile, haggard looking young woman. And she had such soul. Lyrics don’t get written like hers unless you’ve been there. Songs sung from the gut like that have a trail of pain behind them. Pain that is relived every time you sing it. Sing them all back to back and it’s no wonder she had issues. Some called her a tortured soul, others a train wreck. I’d always just wanted to give her a hug and hoped she’d figure it all out.

But, she didn’t. At a mere 27 years old, she has left this world. While the reports are still out, we’re all expecting cause of death is alcohol and/or drug related. It doesn’t mean she deserved it though. It doesn’t mean that it’s okay to say horrible things.

SHE WAS A HUMAN BEING.

I saw someone ask when the news first broke if it was wrong that they secretly kind of hoped the rumors were true. ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY. Others made snide comments about Amy Winehouse’s death and how now we won’t have to be burdened by watching more about what happened in Norway. (Yes, I know they were being snarky.) Really? Do you seriously believe that Amy woke up Saturday morning and said “Fuck the Norwegians, I’m gonna one up them everywhere”?!!? Joke after joke after sick joke. Bitching upon bitching at having to see Amy Winehouse “shit everywhere.”

Everyone that dies is a loss to someone. Who are we to judge that it’s otherwise?

Here’s a thought- turn off your TV, step away from your computer and take a moment to call some one you love and tell them so. Make sure they know you really mean it. No matter if we lead the life of a saint, or that of an addict, none of us are guaranteed a specific amount of time on this earth. Use it well.

I choose to use mine to see the good and worth in people. To spend time reminding the people in my life they are important to me and genuinely so in their own unique way. To try to do my best to be a good person and a decent mother.

I am by no means a saint either. I am highly flawed and a continual work in progress.

But I can look myself in the mirror.

Random Shiny Object Syndrome.

Now, most people will read that and think I like random shiny objects. Don’t get me wrong, I do. This is different though. In this scenario, I’m the shiny. Or maybe I just attract people with a weird version of ADD.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a pretty social gal. I randomly smile at people all the time and tend to know most of the employees at the places I frequent. It’s just how I am. And people always tend to smile and chat back. That’s how human interaction is supposed to work. It’s a lovely thing.

But, I seem to have this knack for drawing in people that are all excited to get to know me, spend time with me, talk to me. Like I’m a new toy on Christmas morning. And I get all excited right back.

And then…..

*poof*

They move on to the next shiny.

And I’m left sad and pouty.

It’s actually started to affect me. I’m a pretty open book and have a huge squishy heart. Putting it out there was something I continued to do willingly no matter how much things hurt. Now I’m more skittish and guarded. I’ll catch myself doing the excited puppy dance back and stop and take five steps back and a deep breath. I keep bracing for my shiny to wear off and them to *poof.*

Maybe it’s all my fault. Perhaps I haven’t outgrown being that kid at the park that made a bunch of friends playing all day and cried the whole way home when I realized I would probably never see them again.

Either way, it sucks.

We are now home from our annual Easter brunch at my parent’s house. The monkey’s fave Easter basket item? Yoda kites. I popped our dinner in the oven and the girls began to argue which Star Wars movie we are going to watch.

I should prelude this with the fact that they are 5 & 6 now but have been Star Wars fans since they were 2 & 3. I should also mention that as soon as we got home, lilest stripped off the dress so her half of the debate was argued wearing only her underwear.

I love my little geeklings and am frequently in awe of them when they get in uber geek mode. Fighting they do frequently. They flat out throw down like boys. Then two minutes later are smooching on each other and cooing about how they are bestest friends ever. But, every once in a while an actual debate occurs. Tonight is one of those nights.

For some reason, Revenge of the Sith has always been one of eldest’s favorites. Which doesn’t make any sense to me. She LOVES Anakin. Before it sunk in that it wasn’t really possible, she vowed to one day marry him. You’d think that Attack of the Clones would be her favorite then. Why the one where he turns to the dark side and gets his ass handed to him by Obi Wan? Yet it is. It also happens to be my least favorite of all of them. I understand it is necessary, but it’s all so sad. In fact, given that she is inherited my upset at movies that make me sad and habit of turning them off if they make me cry, I would think she would also find this the least favorite. But, whatever the reason, it’s her go to when we talk the new movies vs the classics.

Lilest is a girl after my own heart. She’s all about the classics. Of them, Return of the Jedi is frequently the one that she pushes for. She also HATES Revenge of the Sith.

And so the debate began.

Eldest declares her choice of Revenge of the Sith. Lilest shoots her down. Her argument is simple- it’s too dark, too scary, too sad. Eldest counters with the necessity of it in the total story line and then busts out comparing it to the story of Easter- Anakin dies. He is resurrected as Vader. Lilest throws her a complete curve ball with Return of the Jedi being much more Easter-like because Vader dies and Anakin is resurrected and redeemed. Eldest counters that Anakin flat out dies then, therefore it is not a story of resurrection. Lilest counters with the fact that Revenge of the Sith ends with Vader being created, but ends with that. There is no “character development of him at that point.” Eldest replies “well played, but Anakin still dies in Jedi.” Lilest “Oh really? Because I’m fairly certain that those that are strong with the Force never truly die and he does appear at the closing of the movie along with Obi Wan and Yoda.” Eldest’s retort? “That’s it, there is only one way to solve this- to the light sabers!”

So which one are we watching?

The Princess Bride.

Yup, they decided that fighting wasn’t the answer, it’s Spring Break so we should just pull a full on Star Wars marathon from start to finish instead.

I can hang with that.

I know I’m far from a traditional mom. I do things way differently than most moms do. In fact, other moms at eldest’s school and their old day care love to point that out to me. It just makes me smile. The one thing that I am traditional in, in a way that moms SHOULD be, is the mama bear effect. Yeah, I’m fiercely protective of my monkeys. I try to keep it in check though.

Having said all that, while I’m proud of the mother I am, I try not to judge others on their parenting. We all know that they don’t pop out holding an instruction manual or a flash drive with a pdf of one. The basics of raising children are easy though. It’s not rocket science. You keep them safe and show them all the love you can. When I see those basic truths not being upheld, that’s when I get mad.

So, today I had to run in to Walgreen’s really quickly. Lilest and I pull in. It takes me a bit to answer a couple of texts I got while driving. Maybe 5 minutes after parking, we get out and trek on in. While walking past this giant new Lexus SUV that had been parked and running kitty corner in front of us, I notice two things. 1. It’s unlocked and there’s no one in the front. B. There is a roughly 2 year old alone in a car seat in the back. That last one made me take a couple of steps back and actually look into the windows to make sure I was seeing right. Yup. Alone. *eye twitch*

We go in, grab my nail polish, stand in line, wait for the check out lady and the woman ahead of us to stop coffee clutching, pay for it and wander back out.

And the Lexus is still there.

Still running.

Lil guy still in there all alone.

As I get in my car, my mind struggles. Yes, this is the burbs. But, it’s unlocked. Keys in and running. With child. The mere thought of what could happen terrifies me. But, is it rational? I know there is NO WAY IN HELL I would EVER do that. Jinkies, lilest is over twice that child’s age and in she went with me. So I sit and I think. Lilest asks me why we aren’t driving yet and I explain to her what is going through my head. Then, she hits me with logic- “Mommy, you always stand up for what you feel is right. And you always say sometimes we need to be the voice for people who can’t use theirs.” Grrrr. What to do? Going in means the possibility of a very less than pleasant exchange with the driver/mom/dad/babysitter/guardian/what have you. The kind where people get to swinging. Yet I can’t just drive away and be wondering if that little boy is okay. I can sit here and wait for the person to come out and keep an eye on the vehicle. But, what happens when they go to the next place and do the same thing? Will someone watch it then? Will that little boy be okay?

So, I called the non emergency number for our police department and I told them the situation. Left it in their hands. And drove away hoping that the little boy would be okay, knowing they were at least on their way.

Did I do the right thing? I’m still not sure. I kinda hope whoever it is was in there buying some birth control. All I wanted was some nail polish.

I know that I am far from alone when I say that Dr. Seuss shaped my life. Generation after generation will continue to utter that same phrase. At least I hope.

If you have followed my blog since I started it (which you probably haven’t) you will have heard this story before. It bears repeating though. 🙂

My quest for knowledge has always been there. When I was little, the birthday cut off for Kindergarten was December 1st- the day before mine. By the time I reached 3 1/2 my parents realized I was much different than they had anticipated and they thought I should be in school. Yes folks this was before 3K, 4K and all that other stuff. Back in my day there was only one Kindergarten. And you had to be 5 by the cut off date to attend. Feeling I was more than ready, mom called the school district and was told to bring me in, that they would test me. If I passed, I was in. Like the already lil nerd I was, I was SO excited to go in and test. I remember what I wore that day and I remember them handing me a sheet with a clown on it holding a bunch of balloons. While I don’t recall the tests, I do recall that each one I passed, they put a sticker on to fill in a balloon. All I needed was over half of them full. Proudly, I skipped out of there with all of them colored in. I was going to go to school!

Until the call came. The “If we make an exception for her, then someone comes in with Dec. 3rd & 4th, where do we draw the line?” call. I won’t lie, I totally cried my lil heart out.

Then, I woke up the next morning pissed and determined.

I grabbed all my lil Dr. Seuss books and sat down in front of Sesame Street and taught my geeky self how to read. On a mission, I had mastered all of the books within a couple of weeks and would read them over and over again.

If that alone was the only thing I got from him, that would mean the world. The independence he gave me to teach myself to read empowered me. It taught me that books were the key to knowledge. Not long later it taught me that they are also the key to survival when you need to escape from an unhealthy environment.

And what knowledge did my dear friend Seuss teach me a the ripe old age of 4? He taught me the foundations of who I am:

* Always be yourself:
“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.”

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”

*Being a geek is good:
“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.”

“There’s no limit to how much you’ll know, depending how far beyond zebra you go.”

*Always stand up for what you believe:
“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

“I know, up on top you are seeing great sights, but down here at the bottom we, too, should have rights.”

*Life is tough, but have faith:
“I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I’ve bought a big bat. I’m all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!”

“You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left. “

*Keep an open mind:
“Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!”

“If you never did you should. These things are fun and fun is good.”

“You’ll miss the best things if you keep your eyes shut.”

And so very, very much more.

He taught me to be creative. To make up words, characters, entire worlds. To be different. To not only use my imagination but to embrace it. That the world isn’t black and white, nor should it ever be. It should be colorful. It should be filled with amazing creatures all so different but living together peacefully. And if a Grinch pops up, show them some love.

So, happy, happy birthday Dr. Seuss. May your legacy forever live on.

“We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.”

Feb 28, 2011

Dear Mr. Hipster in MiniVan That Decided Stop Signs STILL Don’t Apply to Him,

It’s very sweet that you clearly have a desire to ram your large vehicle into me. Most men would start with dinner, but not you. You go the extra 30 mph, throw caution to the wind and laugh in the face of traffic signs just to get to me. As we begun our usual dance of me blaring my horn at you and you lifting your Starbucks Venti Whatever to salute me, don’t think I didn’t notice that this time you added a wink. And the smirk when lilest rolled down the window and screamed “I KNOW HOW TO SPELL CREEP NOW YOU BIG ILLITERATE JERK!!” was oh so charming. Well until it turned to confusion when eldest rolled hers down and said “YOU DON’T EVEN NEED TO BE ABLE TO READ!! THE SHAPE AND COLOR IS UNIVERSAL FOR A REASON!! YOU MUST HAVE CHEATED ON THE TEST!!!”

But, my favorite look of yours was the sweet look of slight terror when we followed you to your house and all honked, smiled and waved. Yes, we now know exactly where you live. So, I’ll stop by and say hi when I want to see you again. No one likes a pushy guy. Play a little hard to get from now on please.

Or else. My YOU KNOW WHY is soooooo ready.

<3,
Me

P.S. Your stupid soul patch is still crooked. Only now in the other direction. That takes talent.

Feb 1, 2011

Dear Mr. Hipster in MiniVan That Decided Stop Signs Don’t Apply to Him,

Thanks for making me have to slam on my breaks & almost donut. That was super fun. I’ve been meaning to become better acquainted with that ditch. I’m sorry I missed the memo that going “cheers” with your Starbuck’s Venti at someone you could have killed meant “I’m sorry.” Hopefully my finger didn’t throw you off. I also apologize for lilest yelling “WE DON’T HAVE A STOP SIGN, YOU DO YOU CREEPOID!!! EVEN I CAN READ STOP!! S-T-O-P YOU (mommy how do you spell creep!?!?)!!!!!!” Kids these days. Hope you have a swell day!

<3,
Me

P.S. As I am aware of the fact you live in my subdivision, you may want to pick up a protective cup. YOU KNOW WHY!

P.P.S. Your stupid soul patch is crooked. I know, straight lines are tough.