weapons of massdistraction

Monday randomista. I’m already up to my eyeballs in freelance work, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the weekend, what with its extra-fine weather. Yesterday was all brunches and bbqs with friends, old and newish. And one feature film in two parts…the biggest, baddest B-movie ever made. I must say, I am officially a Kill Bill convert. And I’m glad I didn’t watch the first volume until after the second was released. Waiting out that long of an intermission would have driven me crazy(ier). In other movie news, trailers are online for Howl’s Moving Castle, from Studio Ghibli. No official word yet on when it will be released stateside. And lastly, the husband’s been fiddling around with the open source blogging tool, Blosxom. Before long I’ll be joining other bloggers in the 21st century. My hand coded pages will be a thing of the past, replaced by revamped entries, replete with individual IDs (permalinks at last!), comments and more. We’ve been testing (”we” being the husband, mostly) and hope to switch over some time this week. Hopefully it won’t be buggy, but I’d like to think that someone would let me know if it is. Like the time that Dave and I were walking into work and my dress had, apparently, gotten hiked up and tangled in my backpack…such that I was strolling down a busy street, during rush hour, for at least a couple of blocks, with my ass totally hanging out. But wait, I’m the one who noticed that. Gee, thanks for nothing Dave. So please, loyal readers, don’t let my blog go a few blocks with its ass hanging out. Thank you very much.

It was an officially sanctioned Emotional Rollercoaster Week^TM around these parts, but I must have missed the memo. I might have tried to take a vacation from myself, had I known. It all started last weekend, with the 2004 Mama Gathering being held in Minneapolis…something I’d been looking forward to a great deal, going so far as to give a quick interview, via phone, for an article about it in the Minnesota Women’s Press. My rambling was whittled down, naturally and necessarily, but I’m hoping I didn’t sound like too much of a twit. They described the event as:

“the biggest, baddest, most subversive parenting conference and party of the year,” the Mama Gathering is a weekend of workshops, socializing and networking that caters to mamas “pierced or pinstriped, geeky or glam.”

While the Strib touted “Unconventional Mamas Hold Their Own Convention“, both of which were right on. But somehow I managed to feel like a misfit among misfits. There’s that issue with the malfunctioning filter between my brain and my mouth, a problem exacerbated by exhaustion and nervousness. This contributed to the awkwardness of not-quite-connecting with mamas I’d thought I would have everything in common with. Thankfully I happened upon a few others who instantly felt like old friends, on top of spending a fair amount of time with one who actually was.

I suspect my body’s havoc-wreaking hormonal hell was responsible for much of the feelings of disconnectedness, and for the past week’s crying jags and complete lack of focus and consuming need for cuddle-time and increased consumption of vegan s’mores. Speaking of lack of focus, today was my last at the part-time job. I was taken out to lunch and repeatedly told how much I will be missed (along with my signature giggle) which is always nice to hear. I tried not to rub it in, that I’ll be goofing off for the rest of the summer with my kid, having fun in the sun while wearing flip flops. I don’t think I was successful. Today also marked the one year anniversary of the husband’s creepyass cornea transplant. He celebrated by having the remaining stitches ripped out of his eyeball. The end.

I haven’t gotten round to mentioning it yet, but I have given notice at the part-time job (my last day is Friday)…for a couple of compelling reasons. First and foremost, the little man’s summer school session ended, well, today. We didn’t have anything arranged to keep him occupied until school begins again in the Fall. That means six weeks or so of one on one time with my sweet boy, which will be wonderful, but there’s another reason I’m going to stay home. I can make a heckuvalot more money freelancing, and do so without the stinking dress code. That work won’t begin, in earnest, until the boy is safely back in school, giving me a quiet house for a few precious hours every day. Until then I’ve come up with the following list (as much for my reference as anything else) of activities to partake of with the little man:

We’ll kick things off with the Art Car Parade, this Saturday;
The same day will also see One Day in July (billed as a “Street Festival for the Working Class”);
At some point we’ll splurge on a Paddleford Boat Ride down the Mississippi;
There will be much splashing around at local wading pools;
Weekly story times at our local libraries;
A pediatric dental appointment (fun for everyone!);
Checking out the totally terrific treehouses at the Landscape Arboretum;
Crown Theaters totally free Children’s Film Festival (wish I could have had some influence over the programming);
A potential day trip to Kellogg, MN to ride Lark Toys’ one-of-a-kind hand-carved carousel;
The consumption of frozen food products like Izzy’s soy ice cream and Cool Fruits Fruit Juice Freezers;
Overseeing operations at the Twin City Model Railroad Museum;
A visit to the elusive Net Park, once I figure out where exactly it is;
Free Tuesdays at the Chutes and Ladders Play Area;
The usual goodness at the Children’s Museum;
Checking out the robot exhibit and the new mini-golf course at the Science Museum;
A trip or two Up North with the husband;
Play dates with friends and visits with family;
And finally, filling (and destroying) as many water balloons as possible.

Still in the process of processing my experiences from the weekend. They ranged from the good to the bad to the ugly. More when I’m feeling less overwhelmed…and have sorted my thoughts out a bit.

In so many ways I’ve been lucky with the little man. True, his first year was often hellish, what with the multiple ear infections (and bonus sinus infections for mom!), two surgeries, and lots of general misery. But since then it’s been smooth sailing. He doesn’t take ill as often as some kids, and when he does rarely is it serious enough to warrant a visit to the clinic. But today worrying got the better of me and caused me to call the triage nurse. She booked us the last “open” appointment of the day. We raced over to the other side of town, arriving well before our appointed time, only to hurry up and wait. After forty minutes in the waiting room we were ushered into the inner sanctum, to the office of a pediatrician (his regular doc, was, unfortunately, unavailable). One who apparently has a thing for Mickey Mouse. That rodent bastard was everywhere. Smiling down on us with that goofy grin from framed posters, children’s book covers, on a container of tongue depressers, and, most eerily, in the form of an ill-used plastic doll, complete with mate Minnie. We waited another forty minutes in the creepy cramped room, with the little man alternately playing and lying down on the exam table to rest. When the doc finally arrived she spent less than five minutes with us, suggesting I pick up some Children’s Sudafed. It was a relief to find that my dear boy doesn’t have an infection, ear or otherwise, but couldn’t the triage nurse have suggested this course of action? Live and learn, I guess. After an early dinner the poor boy fell asleep, around 6pm, for the second day in a row. This time while watching Yellow Submarine. The synergy between that and the dose of sudafed in his system is bound to cause some seriously trippy dreams.