my existence is becoming a reduction of uselessness. i cannot function with the time constraints of the watchful and fussing eye of a baby combined with the emasculating properties spawned from the lack of a paycheck.
i have been hobbled on both legs.
that baby is dangerously close to rolling over. i done seen her do it with all the body parts but the one arm. this makes her fussy. despite her seemingly limited modes of self-transportation, i have begun to regularly set her down on her play mat only to find her five minutes later two feet away from her original planting. i think the cats are doing it.
last night, i originated a brilliant idea, which seems to have also taken brian's fancy. we always go on about how his mother absolutely insists on pairing gifts with people who would never buy that item for themselves. like... it's what she digs and doesn't get that not everyone digs the same things. we'll get precious moments books or chicken soup for the couple's soul books. five hundred xmas ornaments, some religiously themed. jewelery i'd never wear. half crunchy, half crocheted, xmas-themed hand towels. crystal shrimp platters or candy dishes from mikasa. lance armstrong tshirts. just about anything that leaves us wondering if she's ever met us.
well, ttyki has begun this business cycle, which she completes once or twice a year, where she grows these incredibly luxurious mats. don't laugh.. just don't.. but i've collected one which dropped ripe from the tree on its own and have sickeningly stored it in the battery drawer waiting for the day we finally give oliver this super awesome dollhouse that was mine as a child. it's no victorian frou frou pad. it's a tin-walled two-story with the house printed right on the tin. you know what i'm saying? anyway, we've been meaning to give it to him for several holidays now, but either we'd forget and have too many things to give already, or brian wouldn't want his mother there when we give it (i mean, we've already feminized him by giving him that kitchen). anyhow, i decided the mat could be beautifully trimmed and placed in the metallic dwelling as a flokati rug. a flottyki rug.* people do it with lamb hairs, so don't look at me like that.
i told brian i should harvest another and maybe back it with faux suede so that we could present it to his mother for xmas and she could place one of her small indian dolls atop it. we think it would be lovely, for us, to load her up with all kinds of ill-conceived gifts and then watch her struggle and flail beneath the uneasy weight of them. i further proposed that we rig up a gifted household knick knack with a hair or something so we could detect whether or not she only brings them out when we come to visit.
she gives us a new stocking every year filled to the hilt with bric-a-brac. today, i found the perfect stocking for returning the favor. and hey, she likes deer.
brian wants to give pappy ken a sailboat-themed neck medallion (it would match the hall bath decor!), but figures he would blow our cover by exhibiting a sense of humor.
i had another idea for brian and his brother to cahoot and tell his mother that we didn't really name our babies violet and kinsleigh so that we could see her exhale her pleasure that her granddaughters are not named violet and kinsleigh, but brian insists she would cry instead. it's a shame, because i could totally see brian's brother giving his mother a fake baby name for six months for real. he likes to tell her that he's not coming to her house for thanksgiving because they'd rather go to a football game instead and he makes her cry and then he shows up on her doorstep. he's managed to do this twice.
aside from all that, i actually came by here because i know i'm behind on all kinds of obnoxious photo posts from that two week period were i was computer-challenged by my old work laptop being temporarily disabled. i really should get around to returning that.
for starters, i decided we should go to this hot air balloon launch in plano on saturday, sept 19. i read about it in this weekly local newsletter i get and thought how quaint it would be to wander about a sparsely populated idyllic field scattered with people standing in the baskets of their balloons and entertaining oliver's comments as we strolled happily by. you can probably gauge why i constantly feel my life does not live up to my expectations just by that one sentence.
my first clue that something sinister was afoot was when we took our exit and were immediately confronted with a rather long and slow-moving line of cars. oh, and this was about the time violet woke up and began screaming. kind of like she's about to start doing over there two feet away from her play mat.
getting through the traffic light to turn right was painfully slow and brian took to imagining how we could live in the run down trailers we were sitting twenty feet away from. my anger began to manifest as a string of arrogant assholes began continuously flying past and expecting to be let in line two cars from the light. if they were denied, they simply formed a second turn lane.
we finally got around the corner and moved a little more quickly for a quarter of a mile until we saw a pay parking lot. i had no idea why they would need one of these for an event with low attendance, but there was no room on the streets for checking our options, or even where on earth the event was located exactly. we pulled in and the teen working the cash said he thought it was about three quarters of a mile away. well, holy shit. and it was in the upper 80s that day as well. and i was wearing jeans. and wedge sandals.
we parked and thanked god we had the stroller with us and began the long walk. after a good bit, we thought we were in the park and still couldn't see anything because of the twist in the little park road and the hills next to it and then we saw the sign telling us it was only .75 miles to the entrance. this was around the time oliver started asking to be carried. not in this heat!
by the time we discovered there was a fee to get in, it was way too late to back out. i was distressed by the sheer volume of peoples i was soon standing before. there had to have been thousands. they dotted the muddy hillside. lining the road were all the usual trappings of a modern day festival... chicken wing vendors, beer vendors, starbucks vendors. very scenic, indeed. i could see exactly two hot air balloons on the other side of a long line of porta potties and could not fathom why so many people would show up for two balloons. and then, while i was getting out oliver's snack (thank god i'd brought one!), i looked up and one of the balloons was missing. i could see bouncehouse type activities on the far side of the field, but there was no way i was going to walk on over there. and then pay five dollars for five minutes of bouncing.
brian went over to a trailer and spent $9 on a cone of fries and two bottles of water, as if he was someone whose household income and not just been cut in half, and we hunkered down on a patch of muddy grass like feral animals eating their catch.
and then, somewhere in there, brian and oliver were in a porta potty and i noticed all these balloons popping up. they'd just been deflated out of view! over there where parents were walking with their children and having their comments entertained by basket dwellers!
we watched them go up and over and then, they seemed to land on the other side of the hill.
we knew we couldn't possibly survive the balloon glow and 9pm fireworks, so we waited for the last balloon to float on over the ridge and we packed it up. i was preparing to suffer greatly on the walk back and wanted to hasten to my end, so i carried violet the fifteen miles back to the car and we put oliver in the infant car seat for a luxurious ride back. then, since oliver had refused to use the porta potty like any sanitary-minded lad, daddy taught him how to pee in the grass by the car. it was an exciting time.
and i didn't even shed a single post partum pound.
*this was funnier back when i thought they were called flotaki rugs.
this is oliver pointing at a small, unmanned balloon, followed by oliver waving at a large, manned balloon.
hunkering down for sustenance.
view from the porta potty section.
some crowd and some sky.
and they say corporate sponsorship is dead.
the ladies were there.
hunkering down to eat babies by the fiery light of a rainbow balloon.
and they say my children don't have tongues.