Never Underestimate the Power of Stupid

In the name of love (or pride, or a desire to not lose, or any other number of things), people can do some pretty stupid stuff. 

Case in point:  Yesterday, my family and I were spending some quality time at Martinak State Park, a lovely wooded area resting on the Choptank River, where Rashieme and I plan on getting married this summer.  This quiet state park features trees and shade and sunshine and trails and, to my daughter's delight, several playgrounds.  We were checking out each one as we had spent the day with Shieme's mom and were now just a few hours away from a meeting with a local restaurant owner, whose establishment we were checking out as a possible venue for a reception location.  Knowing we were having this meeting, I had opted to wear a sundress and cloth slip-on flats.

Being that I was dressed up, I opted out of Rashieme and Kaliah's game of tag at the first playground, which began with hysterical laughter and blissful joy and then eventually ended in tears because, much like her mommy, Kaliah does not like to lose.  We ventured on to the second playground which featured a tall spiral slide that looked promising, but unfortunately was not all that slippery, and Kaliah slid down with a dismal look on her face that made it clear that she'd rather be practicing fractions.  So off we went to the third location, where we discovered a completely in-tact piece of playground equipment that featured several different entrances/exits:  slides, monkey-bar style extensions, a rock climbing wall, etc.

Kaliah immediately came up with the idea of an obstacle course.  She explained that we would have to each take a turn using each of the "exits" and whoever could successful exit all avenues of the equipment the fastest would be declared the winner.  I certainly wasn't dressed for it, but what can I say?  One should never underestimate the power of stupid.  I'd like to claim that I did it out of my love for my child and desire to bond with her and spend quality time making memories.

But the truth is, I probably just wanted to win.

For those of you who don't know me, I am stupid competitive.

So her daddy yelled go, and off we went.  On the very first small slide, I struggled to keep my skirt covering everything it should cover, then scrambled back to the steps of the main entrance to navigate the next exit.  Despite my shaky start, Kaliah and I were neck and neck.  My long legs worked to my advantage, as did my height, when it came to jumping from certain points instead of climbing down.

We were maybe two minutes in, both running out of breath, both laughing and scampering about, and I was down to one remaining obstacle.  But first I had to re-enter the equipment.  Seeing that my daughter was already on the main entrance, (the steps), and deciding to go around her and cut in front of her, I opted to climb a short slide instead of race around, putting myself behind her.  As I jumped on the slide and began striding upwards, I immediately realized the error of my ways, as my cloth shoes had absolutely no traction and I began slipping back down, like a surfer skimming a wave.  I tried to stop the momentum, but somehow my legs got tangled up and I went sailing over backwards, falling with a resounding thud, as I crashed down on my legs, back, and shoulder, head clunking down into the stupid wood shavings that always line these kinds of play ground.

"Alright, you're done," Daddy the referee announced, shaking his head as he strode over to help me up.  Meanwhile Kaliah was shrieking in amazement and I was laughing so hard I was almost crying.  Rashieme pulled me to my feet, and both of them went to work brushing the wood chips from my sweater, dress, and hair.

"We've got a meeting in an hour.  'What happened to her?' 'Playground accident?'" Rashieme demanded, rolling his eyes.

"But I was doing so good," I protested.  "I think I was winning."

Clearly, I wasn't.  Not after the Cloth-Shoe-Sliding-Board-Fall.

Lesson Learned:  When you're trying to beat the pants off your kid at some outdoor activity, wear sneakers.

And maybe a helmet.

And something other than a dress with granny panties underneath.

For the record, Rashieme and Kaliah went next.  With the aid of sneakers and pants (as opposed to a skirt), Rashieme beat her by a landslide.  He didn't even need the helmet.

Please Pardon My Brief Absence...

So it's been a little over the week that normally goes by in between my obligatory blog posts, but I have a decent excuse:

EASTER!

Well, and the exhaustive daily events leading up to this joyous celebration.

My family and I had a beautiful Easter, and I pray that you did, as well.  We attended an awesome Easter service at our church home, Oak Ridge Baptist, where we were blessed with an inspiring abundance of visitors, tons of people getting baptized, and many first-time decisions for Christ.  It was a humbling experience, a day full of celebration.

We continued the good times at my mother's house, where she prepared a delicious meal for my family.  Kaliah got to dye eggs with my brother's girlfriend's kids, and it was really cool that after being the only child in the family for so long, she finally had somebody else to play with.  (Rashieme enjoyed it too.  An epic game of freeze tag may or may not have went down, in which I discovered I'm quite possibly NOT the fastest person in the family, in spite all of the miles I try to cram into each month).

So the holiday was about our Savior and time together as a family.  Mommom offered to take Kaliah for a few days, so Shieme and I can get some grown-up time in.  I'm hoping we'll get a chance to do a little wedding planning and a lot of relaxing.  I'm also going to have to squeeze in several errands of a boring nature, so I feel very blessed to have off this entire week from work.

But I know you guys don't stop on over just to hear the mundane details of my routine.  You're looking for funny.  So try this on for size:

'Twas the night before Easter, and I was freaking exhausted.

I'd just worked a shift at the Cottage.  It wasn't even really busy, but I'm not getting any younger, and it HAD been super slammed the night before, which I had also worked.  I got home just a little after Kaliah's bedtime, so since she woke as I entered the house, I had to run in and give her a quick kiss and a belated Bible story.  I headed back into the living room and collapsed onto our recliner, with the intention of waiting for her to venture off into total slumber before I began filling her Easter basket.  I even went so far as to ask Rashieme where the basket was, as earlier that day Kaliah had tried to fill it with dirt and leaves to create a nest for a robin's egg I found for her-- that's another story that ultimately ended in tragedy, so we'll save that one for another day).  He located the basket for me, and I promptly fell asleep in the chair, drooling and protesting that I was still awake as Rashieme tried to force me off to bed.

So naturally, I totally forgot to play the Easter Bunny.

I forgot until Kaliah was standing over me Easter morning, demanding, "Where's the candy?"

"Umm... the Easter Bunny must be running late," I muttered, kicking myself for having dropped the ball.

"I think you're the Easter Bunny," Kaliah responded.

"No, no.  You don't believe in the Easter Bunny, you don't get candy," I warned her.  "I'm sure he's just running late.  Go take a bath!  Maybe he didn't come because you're too dirty."

"What?  That's--"

"Go take a bath!"

So as she reluctantly headed off to the tub, I went racing outside in my robe and sneakers, hauling in the crap I'd bought and not brought in the night before, jamming Easter grass and jelly beans and chocolate eggs and rabbits haphazardly in the Easter basket, just managing to fling the last of the packaging materials into the garbage as Kaliah emerged from what has GOT to be the world's quickest bath.

"Why do you have Easter grass in your hands?"

"The Easter bunny left a mess!  Look, he came and went while you were in the bath tub.  How about that?"

If she hadn't quite stopped believing, I'm pretty sure that yesterday I effectively ended any remaining confidence she held in the Easter bunny's existence... but hey, what mattered to her the most was the candy.  I was immediately forgiven for any crimes I may or may not have committed as she dug into her goods.  Soon, it was time for the next battle:

The wearing of the Easter Dress.

And such are the holidays, and such is life:  a series of battles, big and small, a journey of mistakes and apologies, mountain peeks and valley lows.  Smiles and laughter, tears of joy and sorrow.  Thanks, dear readers, for checking in.  May you never forget to play the Easter Bunny, and may the peace of the Savior comfort you, no matter what your highs or lows may be in this supremely special existence.

Happy Easter!

Abort, Retry, Ignore?

So, THIS is gonna sound like fiction:

 

My fortune cookie's message from last night's dinner.

 

Hmmm.

 

So of course the writer in me is thinking:  should this become a True Tale of Everyday Crazy to add to my collection?

 

Or is this a brand new novel idea, ripe with potential?

 

I'll be pondering it on my run.  The run I'm actually going to take.  I'm feeling the need to assure everyone that I am still a runner, mainly because Rashieme commented this morning that he doesn't think I actually plan on running-- rather, he supposes I'll just put on my running clothes, go lie down in the corn field across the street for a few hours, and then pick all the crap off my clothing and return home, acting as if I've just completed an intense workout.

 

Clearly, this is preposterous, as not only do I use an app to track my runs (which no one except fellow runners really care about, so forgive me, non-runner friends, for all the Facebook updates, which were much more frequent during my marathon days, but probably just as annoying now)... but also, I hate bugs way too much to go lie down in a corn field for the sake of pretending to have run.

 



So I'll be actually running.  And thinking about that fortune cookie.

Feel free to share your thoughts with me, too!

Conversations with Kaliah...

So I've been considering going back to school to get my doctorate... a decision that's been weighing heavily on my mind.  Rashieme and I have discussed it extensively, but as nothing's certain yet, there was no real reason to address the subject with Kaliah.

It's not like we've been hiding it from her--there's just really nothing to discuss with her, yet, since we don't know exactly what's going to happen.  Or how it will effect her.  But on Saturday, after I'd spent four plus hours of a beautiful day trudging through the GRE exam, Rashieme and I were once again chatting about the future on the car ride home.  This time, though, Kaliah happened to be paying attention.

"What are you talking about, Mom?" she asked.

"I'm considering going back to college."

"Then who will be my mom?"

Pause.

"I will be your mom, Kaliah."

It took me a moment to understand her concerns, to which I responded that I wasn't going away to college, but rather, that I would be driving back and forth to classes each day, if I even decided to go.

She considered this, then shrugged.

"I would have been happy with Miss WizB," she replied indifferently.

(Miss WizB is Kaliah's godmother.  Apparently, she's a lot cooler than me.  Also, she has a pool).

Just in case I didn't realize how uncool I was, Kaliah reminded me again tonight on the way to her science fair.  I jokingly teased her that she was very lucky to have such cool parents.  To which she responded, "Um, not really.  You're not with it."

"Not with it?" I asked incredulously.

"You're not with it, Mom," she corrected herself.  Apparently, her father is still "with it."

"I'm not with it?" I demanded.

I could start ranting about when "it" changed, and who changed it anyway, but maybe I was never really with it.  After all, I've always preferred reading to movies.  I've seen every single episode of Grey's Anatomy and could get into a heated discussion with anyone who cares about why I'm super excited that Burke is coming back.  I run ridiculous amounts of miles without anything chasing me, for what Rashieme would tell you is for no apparent reason.  There was a small part of me that actually enjoyed taking the GRE--especially the pressure that came with watching the timer in the corner tick down as I faced increasingly difficult reading passages.

I was nerdy before Napoleon Dynamite made it cool.  And the kids in my classroom don't even know who that is anymore, which just goes to further confirm how uncool I've become.

Such is life.  I think I'll keep my uncool mom status and see just how far I can take it while still maintaining some shred of dignity.  There's a part of me that could definitely take the rollers-in-the-hair, bathrobe-around-the-house style to the next level.

And since apparently I'm completely replaceable by the cooler, hipper Miss WizB, what have I got to lose?

 

Kaliah:  "You're so not with it, Mom."