Ramifications

Dear NBC,

It's been awhile since you broke our hearts by cancelling Friday Night Lights, and we've survived.  But I am now coming to realize the gravity of your offense.  Once a preview of John Carter is forced upon you because you can't find the remote to fast-forward, you can't unwatch.  You just bow your head and wonder how it could be.  What HAVE YOU DONE by not keeping Tim Riggins employed drinking beer in a flannel shirt. The TV is now plastered with commercials of him in some caveman bondage get-up, promoting this unwatchable fantasy land movie where he fights Star Wars-reject alien things.  And it's Disney.  Tim.  SERIOUSLY?   Disney bondage caveman on another planet?  I mean it's cool that he doesn't wear a shirt.  Or pants.  But then again not really.  Not like this.  I'm not angry.  I'm disappointed.  

And my lady Tammy Taylor?  She's on some new show that I don't watch playing a psycho lady -- a role far from the BFF mom role model that I need her to be.   She was teaching me how to talk to teenage daughters.  I needed her for 14 more years.  She was also teaching me how to talk to hot football coach husbands.  Reading this today just made me miss her more.  A lot.  I should have been in that coffee shop with her.  ME!

But let us not forget your most important offense.  Casting off my love -- my misterass (word I invented for male mistress; isn't it useful?), Coach Taylor.  It is as if you don't want us ladies to be happy.  He did show up in Super 8 last summer at least (brooding widower in a cop uniform trying to be a good dad -- triple points!), and I think I heard his voice in tortilla chip commercial.  But otherwise...WHERE IS HE?  Go find him.  Bring him back.  Put him on Up All Night as a single dad looking for love.  Or as a back up dancer on Smash; I don't care.  Just bring him.

You ruined Friday.

Signed,
Someone who should get a life on Fridays.

Questions

Mama, why are you working now? (pout) Didn't you already work when I was at school today?  

Mama, Maddie has no mommy.  She has two daddies.  Why does she have two daddies?

The second was much easier to answer than the first.

Status

It's been awhile.

I turned 35.  Seriously, I feel like we're talking about someone else.  I know I sound like an a-hole to anyone older, and to you I say -- you didn't like turning 35 either.  And I won't like turning 40 either.  So there.  A good friend's twenty-something sister just moved to our neighborhood.  Single, childless, and eating up this city.  Sigh.  I found myself saying things like "Oh, enjoy.  You are so young.  You can do anything you want."  When I was that age, I thought the people saying that just were just old debbie downers that didn't understand how to have fun anymore -- bless their hearts.  Hadn't they heard of babysitters?  Losers!  Sigh.  Remember when brunch really could be your first meal of the day?

I managed to celebrate well -- Broadway, a 2-pint hangover (yup that's all it took), and a momofuku crack pie.  

What else is new?

I'm very upset we haven't had a big winter snow yet.  Very upset.  WHERE IS IT.

I now drink 2 coffees a day.  Essential.  And judging by the Starbucks giftcards that have come my way, my love/need for regular latte fueling must be evident.  If you love me, this is how to show me.

I too often greet 4 am immobilized between 2 little humans, one eating and the other pulling the hair.  At least I'm spooning with someone.  Because Brett's on the couch.   Yes this breaks at least three parenting / safety / little-miss-perfect-mommy rules, but ask me if I give a bleep.  Much worse things will happen if I can't sleep.  I really hope D isn't learning from what comes out of my mouth at this hour.

Ravi is charming us all away.  I eat his chubb every second I can.  He eats like a beast and weighs almost as much as his big sister at 1 year.  Thankfully he appears to adore her, else I'd fear for her getting slugged as much as she's in his face.  Current pastimes are gurgling, spitting bubbles, and banging.   Oh, and the smiles. He couldn't be happier.  I wonder what he's so happy about.  Probably is thinking about food like his mother.  

Every third word out of D's mouth is "silly".  She's so into parenting I fear she'll want a baby at 16.  When she has been away, she interviews me for a report. Did Ravi smile while I was gone?  How many times?  What did you do to make him smile?  Did you say "What's so funny?", or "Who's the big guy?", or "Boogety boo?" (these are her phrases to make him laugh).    Did he laugh?  Why not?  OK.  Did he poo?  What color?

Here they are.

They adore each other.  She lives to make him smile.  On the rare occasion she's not giving him attention, he stares at her with the saddest face and bangs his toy.  Watching these times between them melts us daily.  I want to birth a gaggle so they can do that.

But sleep is awesome, so never mind.