Manic-Monday Blogarrhea

- Is there a frequency that only babies can hear? I am going to research this, and then invent toys that only make noise on that frequency.

I am also going to do the research about what frequency men can hear women’s voices on. Then I am going to invent a voice changer that automatically puts women’s voices in that frequency. Because I suspect that whatever noise comes out of my mouth currently lands on the ears of the men in my life like white noise.

- Do you have things that you do so regularly that you never realize that it’s weird? The other day I signed up for my son’s preschool conference. I suppose most moms would take that information and then put it directly on their calendar, but I am not “most moms” (have you noticed that yet?). So, I grabbed a pen and was in the middle of writing it on my hand when the director of the preschool walked by and said, “what on earth are you writing on your hand?” Suddenly, in that moment, I realized that adults don’t write stuff on their hands.

When I got in the car, I called Mr. Lindstrom and told him the date and the time of our conference. Then I said, “Will you email that to me?” He said, “sure, why?” I had to tell him, “because I wrote it on my hand and I am going to the gym and it will wash off in the shower, and then I’ll forget.” I swear to you, I could hear him shaking his head at me over the phone line. Sometimes I wonder if he wishes he’d have married someone normal.

- It used to be that “the bar” was like Cheers – where everybody knows your name and they’re always glad you came. Not such a stretch, Cheers was a bar. Well, my new Cheers is Target. It turns out that all the moms in the neighborhood where my kids go to preschool hang out at the same Target. Even better, we all hang out there at the same time. So during my frequent (according to Mr. Lindstrom, far too frequent) Target runs (they’re more leisurely strolls than runs) I end up hanging out in the aisles of Target chatting with girlfriends. It’s so fun to run into people unexpectedly, and it feels like a little vacation, so I will start to call it, "the Isles of Target." Keep your eyes peeled for me. I’ll be the one in the sarong with a tropical drink playing the steel drum and raiding the dollar section with a cart full of butt paste. I shouldn’t be too hard to pick out of the crowd.

- Sometimes I think I’m younger than I am, or is it that I think younger people are as old as I am? Whichever it is, I had this conversation with my babysitter that would have made me cry had it not been 10:00 pm and waaaaaay past my bedtime. We were talking about a roller coaster at Six Flags in Illinois, and she said, “The last time I was there was when I was four.” I said, “Oh, I don’t think that roller coaster was there then. I was there about 20 years ago, and it was brand new.” She said, “yeah, so it would have been there before I was four, because I’m 20.” Ouch.

- I am trying to teach the four year-old to chew with his mouth closed. MY GOD, this is worse than potty training. I really can’t stand mouth sounds, so when I get this all shored up, I’m going to buy MYSELF a reward. (Mr. Lindstrom just asked me what the reward will be. I told him I have no idea but it’s gonna be gooooood, and probably expensive. Do not underestimate the largeness of this task.)

On the topic of mouth sounds, the worst mouth sounds are gum smacking. Can we all make an agreement this week that if we are chewing gum, we will be extra observant of our smacking? Thanks in advance.

- I have come to terms with the fact that the laundry will never be done. When I die, I will leave behind a pile of dirty laundry. You will too. It’s okay.

- Last Friday, I stopped at the post office to mail some items. While standing in line (by the way, it was 3:30 and the only time I had sat down was to drive the car that day), I yawned. The woman behind the counter said to me, “No yawning. You know, some of us have to work.” I almost turned the tables and went postal customer on her.

- You know how we are constantly wishing and hoping for an extra hour in the day, and then daylight savings ends, we fall back and get that extra hour. Pre-kid, I can tell you exactly what I did with that extra hour. It involved partying a little more and then sleeping a little more. Now, let me tell you what I did with my extra hour this year. I spent my extra hour soothing two teething children in the middle of the night. It was a whole different kind of party, and involved no extra sleep. Can I opt out of this daylight savings madness? I don’t know a parent in the world who appreciates it!

Have you "liked" Keeping Her Cool on Facebook, yet? I promise you more of my crazy brain droppings on the daily over there.