Dropping the bomb

Okay, I gotta make this one quick...  I am sorry to tell most of y'all this way, but The Ottenbergs are leaving Seneca.  After one of my more colorful episodes (I dropped the f bomb when Geoff's boss asked me a question about his job), Geoff has been transferred to Atlanta.  Yeah, for Geoff.  He really wanted this job, but didn't get it originally. Then his current boss was like, "we need to get rid of that lady."

Now, we are in full on panic mode.  After Geoff did not get the job, we had resigned ourselves to staying in Seneca until his 7 years were up.  I signed up to be room parent for Maia's class, agreed to teach science through May, etc...  But, it was not to be.   We are likely going to be out of here by the end of January.

So, please bear with us.  And if you know anyone interested in a 3/2 on the Clemson/Seneca perimeter, send them my way.

I shall end on a self deprecating note:  Geoff to Maia: What is black and white and waddles? Maia: Mommy in that dress.  Bazinga!

On Target

The floor has never let me down

Hi, my name is Misty and I am a Target addict.  With that in mind, I hit up websites that resell gift cards after Christmas time and buy my Target cards cheap.  Yeah me!  But you aren't here for my stories of frugality...

It was a day like any other day.  A trip to the Children's Museum, fine food at Papas & Beer (you really should check it out), and Target.  Well, maybe it was a lot of walking.  Anywho...  After buying up a quarter of the store, I go to check out.  I hand the cashier a stack of gift cards to pay, not quite sure how much is on each card, thinking I would zero out the balances.  Well, the first card covered my purchases (about $200).  Curious, the cashier decides to check the balance on the remaining cards.  The last card has about $1000 on it.  Overjoyed by my luck of having wealthy benefactors, the lady exuberantly pushes my right shoulder and says, "You go girl!"  This is simple act sends me flying to the ground.  Maia stands up in the cart and yells, "You pushed down my Mommy!"  I scramble to my feet trying to assure the cashier and others in line that I was fine and no foul occurred.  I wanted to sarcastically say that that wasn't the type of balance check I was looking forward to.  Instead, we left right away.

No stranger to making a fool of myself (read some of my other posts), I had to return to the scene of the crime.  Okay, so it took me about a month to work up the nerve, but the point is: I went back.  Plus, there was an addiction to attend to.  I was somewhat worried when I didn't see that particular cashier on my first few return visits, but I can happily report that Sally has returned to her post.  Still, I avoided her line.

My Husband Thinks I am an Asshole

 

I lack a filter.   I say whatever I want without regard to the audience. This has gotten worse since we have moved to South Carolina.  I have been known to praise Obama in a crowded theater, say Goddammit in a church, and have even managed to say "Fuck yeah," to the pastor at my child's preschool.  And I only become more gregarious when you add alcohol.  But all in fun!

So...  Yesterday I found myself rocking on a friend's dock giggling with others.  The hostess kept my glass full and the kids were rollicking in the lake.  There were a couple of people present that I didn't know, but they were nice enough.  Somehow, I am not sure how, I started talking about a surgeon (I did say his name) who was pushing for a surgery I didn't want.  To get him to back off I said, "I know you, your wife, AND your mistress- you are not going to force me into this. And if you keep trying I will be talking to your wife."   Well, there was a nice gentleman sitting next to me who promptly got up and excused himself.  It turns out, his wife was one of the doctor's mistresses and they are trying to work it out.

I feel like such crap.  As outspoken as I am, I can't stand the idea of hurting someone's feelings.  I want to track him down and apologize, but that would only make the situation worse.  So, I look to my husband to make me feel better.  His response?  "You are such an asshole."

Physical Failings

This week Maia has dance camp.  Of all her activities, dancing is by far her favorite.  Thanks to the closed door policy of her dance school (urgh!) and her goofy 5 year old antics, I have no idea how graceful she is in class.  I do, however know that I took out the sidewalk in front of all the other dance moms.  So, graceful did not come from me.

I don't know if it is the five year in her or what, but if one little thing goes wrong, the whole day is ruined.  After picking her up from camp, I learned that dance class was just HORRIBLE.  She didn't win any of the games and I had failed to teach her how to jump rope or run fast.  Whoa Buckeroo, back up the bus.  Damn, I see another layer of her mommy complex forming. 

I realize all parent have shortcomings, no matter their physical limitations, so how does one overcome them?  We have a jump rope and yes she does suck at it, but trust me: I am not a good role model in this arena.  By the way, don't ask me to hula hoop either.  I think, at least in this regard, it will take a village.

Happy Fourth of July

Maia running after lighting fireworks with Geoff

I watch my Maia’s eyes light up at the mere mention of fireworks.  With her excitement, I am transported back to my own childhood and the Fourth of July.  Beach side fireworks lighting up the sky, igniting my imagination. As I got older, that imagination led to innovation.  Hours were spent trying to figure out how to create the perfect bottle rocket cannon to shoot tiny projectiles across the pond to (or at) neighbors as they aimed their creations in our direction.  I wouldn’t dream of allowing my daughter to do the same, but the world of 20 years ago seemed so different, so carefully and maybe reckless.

When did I grow up?  How did this evolution happen?  Those carefree and muggy South Florida days seem like yesterday and like eons ago.   I have vivid memories of wolfing down charred hot dogs and hamburgers so I wouldn’t miss a moment of the action.  I had to prove that the only girl (and kid with Cerebral Palsy) in the neighborhood could triumph.  I may not have had their physical prowess, but I could certainly out engineer them.  Fourth of July afforded me the opportunity to showcase my talents (built with copious amounts of my father’s help).  I quickly learned to appreciate the beauty of simplicity.    Trust me, a length of PVC pipe with a cap on the base is an effective bottle rocket launcher.  With age, I often find myself in a self-made quagmire of complexities and wonder where I lost Occam’s razor along the way. 

As my daughter grows older, I want her to cherish the simple joys in life.  For me, Fourth of July was a great evening spent with family and friends.  I don’t remember the clothes I wore or the cars people drove, but I do remember how everyone let loose and enjoyed the finer things in life, no matter how simple.

Getting into gear

• Little known Misty fact:  I love bicycle riding.  If you see me in the gym, chances are I am on a bike (or bellied up to the smoothie bar).  
• Well known Misty fact:  I have NO balance.  You can breathe on me and I will dramatically fall to the ground, taking many breakable things down with me.

This just doesn't cut it anymore

Hence the dilemma:  How does a person with no balance, but an overabundance of pride and ego realize the joys of bike riding?  Add to that the issue of not having a bike friendly neighborhood, one finds that tricycles aren't really an option because you can't just throw them on a bike rack and go.  And speaking of throwing it on the bike rack:  while I often amaze (or creep out) with my upper body strength, I have to be able to place a bicycle gently onto my car without damaging the bike, the car, or myself.

Luckily for me: I married an engineer. Now I would never dream of asking Geoff to put together a child's toy, but I think he could totally rock something without directions. But I have been able to find some ingenious options like this Gavin Smith concept: 

Here is what I vaguely requested (of anyone who will listen):

I am pretty sure that I can ride a two wheeled bike- once I get my balance.  I think I may be able to stop unscathed (though disembarking is risky).  So I need stabilizers, but don't want permanent training wheels.   I want a bike with training wheels that will magically disappear when I get my balance (I am willing to press a button).

Please pass this along because I need more ideas.  Maia really loves her bike and I'd love to be able to take her out (Running is not an option).

Help make my mommy as cute as me

The Cutest Dramatist...

So as I type, Maia is playing her heart out.  But, alas just a few short minutes ago, she was beside herself with grief and I really wasn't sure how to handle it.  It seems that she just noticed there is something wrong with me.  I think she has always recognized that my gait is different and that I require help walking sometimes, but she never equated that as aberrant.  I don't really know why today was any different: her friends have pointed out that I walk differently before or asked about the walker/crutches.

Of course there is no right way to handle this problem.  My solution (at least right now) is to keep her talking about her feelings, which at 5 are pretty hard for her to articulate.  My goal is to keep her talking so if there is something I can do, I will know. And as a parent, who wouldn't want to keep an open dialogue?