Nice Girls Get Restraining Orders, Too

This post has been a long time coming. It is for my dear friend, J. Who is not naïve and certainly not a fool.  We do not think like them because we are not like them. And we do not want to be like them.

Eleven years ago last month. It was a Sunday night. I had been at Andy’s house but decided to sleep at home that night rather than having to run home early the next morning to shower and dress for work. My apartment was four, adorable rooms on the first floor of a two-family, that I had painstakingly decorated myself. My sanctuary. It was in a college area and within easy walking-distance of nearly everything. An elderly woman was my landlady and my next door neighbors were my sister’s in-laws.

That night, I entered my apartment and - just like in every cheesy detective novel - the house simply “felt funny”. I walked through the living room to the double doors of my bedroom and peered inside, seeing nothing. I retraced my steps and walked through the kitchen, to my bedroom’s other door, flipping on lights as I went. Again, I saw nothing. I stood in front of my closet door and reached for the knob. As I did so, the door opened. In front of me stood my old boyfriend.

His name is S and we had spent several angry, hurtful years together a long time ago. It had ended with me moving out of the apartment we had shared for less than a year, back in with my mother, and within a few months, into my sanctuary. He had been to this apartment before. During the “we can still be friends” foolishness as I tried to take the high road. Eventually, after many fights and threats, and even a call to my father to have him removed, we fizzled out.

So five years later, I stood face to face with him again. He was six years older than me, making him 36 at the time. He looked ages older.; The mileage was taking its toll. I didn’t scream. I simply gasped and backed up through the door and into the kitchen with my hand to my heart. I grabbed the wall phone. He only said, “please don’t”. And for a second, I didn’t. My old, co-dependent self was telling me if he simply went away, it would be enough. I didn’t want to create a scene, or make things bad for him. Then I said “no.” Maybe it was out loud. Maybe it was only to myself. But I dialed 911.

He took off, I think through the dining room window. The police told me to go to a neighbor’s. I had my cell phone and called Andy as I ran next door. My sister’s mother-in-law answered her door immediately. “S was in my closet!” I yelled simultaneously into my cell and to her. She pulled me inside and locked the door. Andy’s previously-sleepy hello turned instantly awake and he told me to stay where I was, he was leaving right away.

The police were there in moments. Andy’s car came bombing down the wrong way of my one-way street what seemed like seconds later. Of course they didn’t find him. I sat with the officer and answered his questions and told my story. It was the first time Andy had heard much of it. My brother, having been notified via my sister, who had received a call from her mother-in-law, also showed up. He conducted his own search and I think it made him feel better to do so. When I talked to my mother, she used words I didn’t even know were in her vocabulary.

Everyone wanted me to sleep at their houses that night. I didn’t want to. This was my home and I wasn’t going anywhere. Of course, Andy stayed the night with me. We didn’t fall asleep for a long, long time. As I was dozing off, I remembered that feeling from when we were young. Of not wanting your arm or leg to hang off of the edge.  Because the monsters under the bed might get you.

The next day, I went to my district court and filed my very first restraining order.

The Half Naked Truth

The always awesome Jason from The Jason Show recently posted some thoughts on nudity and asked his readers to share our favorite naked stories.  And who doesn't have one of those?  Without further ado, I humbly submit mine:


Back in the late 90s, in my late 20s, I was taking my last business trip out to California before I left my current job.  I was to meet up with our VP of Sales, Bob who had been my friend and mentor for the last seven years.  We were meeting with a series of companies headquartered in So Cal and capping it off with a sweet boondoggle Sales Meeting at a golf club in Rancho Santa Fe. 

Day one, I started off on the right foot by missing my early flight from Boston to LAX but managed to catch the next one -- with an upgrade to Business Class!  After meeting up at the Marriott,  Bob and I decided to go to Gladstone's on Sunset for dinner.  I had a glass of wine while we waited for our table and two more with dinner.  Upon our return to the hotel, we decided to hang in the cigar bar at the hotel (I mentioned it was the late 90s, right?) and ended up playing chess over another drink.

As I reached for my knight to make what I'm sure would have been a killer move,  I inadvertently took out most of the chess pieces.  Bob righted the board, suggested perhaps we should turn in, and walked me to the elevators. Apparently, all day travel + four glasses of wine + one meal in 24-hours for a 120-pound, 27-year-old woman was a bad combination.

Entering my hotel room, I took off my clothes, headed straight to the bathroom, (ahem) purged, and took a short nap.  Upon waking, I left the bathroom and walked...immediately...into...the...hotel corridor.  Naturally, the door locked behind me.   And there I stood; mostly asleep, still drunk, smelling not great, and wearing a t-shirt that barely covered the important parts - trying to formulate a plan.

- Appearing on Bob's doorstep in such a state was probably not such a good idea.
- Taking the elevator down to the lobby also held little appeal.
- Plan C?  Anyone? Bueller?

Just then, the door next to mine opened and a man appeared. Awesome. He took stock, reached the correct conclusion that I'd locked myself out, and generously offered to call Security.  He then asked if I'd like to wait in his room until they showed.  Dude, I'm drunk but not stupid.  Before I could formulate a less-rude reply, he said "correction, would you like to wait in my room with my sister and 14 month old niece?".  Oh.  Well then.  That's a horse of a different color. 

I enter his hotel room where his adorable niece is standing up in her Pack n Play clearly not ready to sleep.  I proceed to lean my make-up-smeared face over her, using my best auntie skillz while trying not to expose myself or breathe vomit/sleep breath on her.  Soon enough (probably not so for this family), Security arrived and I was let back into my hotel room to contemplate where one would find an AA meeting in the middle of the night in LA.

The next day at a breakfast meeting, God exacted His revenge by seating me next to a client who ordered sausage biscuits and gravy.

Soap Operas and Bon Bons - That's Me...

7:00 pm Wednesday night - Email from neighbor (N1) asking if I can pick up her kindergartener (Lila) after school and drop her off at the sitter's as the sitter will be one child heavy for a safe car ride.  No problem except Thursday is yoga day.  If Lila would like to join us for yoga, I can drop her off at the sitter's after that.  Lila likes yoga, all is well.  Simple.

12:50 pm today -  Nurse's office calls stating HRH is complaining of groin pain.  He had complained of this a week ago and Andy explained he had pulled a muscle, relax and it'll pass.  Second occurrence, we worry about a hernia.  Change of plans: No yoga. Pediatrician.

12:55 - En route to pick up Gremlin at preschool. Plan to speak to other neighbor (N2), whose son (Jack) is in Gremlin's preschool class - and also has a kindergartner - to see if she can drop Lila at sitter's.  Jack is out sick today.  N2 not at preschool. 

1:05 pm - Call N2's cell to run plan by her. No answer/leave voicemail.  Call N2s home number.  No answer.  Contemplate calling own husband (Andy) to have him call N2's Husband's (NH2) cell to see if he knows his wife's where-abouts.  Get Andy's voicemail.  Don't leave message.

1:15 pm - Arrive at HRH's school.  HRH bops out of nurse's office a little too energetically for one in so much pain.  Get incredibly rudimentary explanation of hernia from very nice school nurse.  Leave school.  Gremlin has nervous breakdown in playground as we are *not* stopping to play.

1:20 pm - Call pediatrician from car to see if we should drive there immediately.  Nope but do have 3:45 appointment today.  I can pick up Lila at regular time but not sure if day care provider will be home an hour earlier than anticipated.

1:25 pm  - Gremlin jumps oddly on couch connecting his knee with his nose, resulting in nose bleed.

1:30 pm - Kids in front of Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel.  Back to work! N1 is a nurse practitioner who works in a maximum security prison and is not allowed a cell phone at work.  Call N1's husband (NH1), who is currently traveling for work in DC.  He has no idea of gyrations going on up here but I have his cell #!  Explain all and instruct him to call sitter to find out if she will be available to receive Lila an hour earlier than expected.  Await call back.

1:35 pm - NH1 reaches sitter.  All is well.  She will expect Lila at regular time.

1:45 pm - N2 returns my voice mail.  She is onboard to pick up Lila along with her own kindergartner and drop off at sitter.

1:50 pm - Text NH1 with school phone number so he can tell school to release Lila to N2.  Also must mention that Lila was originally supposed to attend after-school enrichment yoga with me.

2:01 - UPS arrives with new starter for Daddy's boat.  HRH carries 15 lb package from front door to kitchen table.


I'm sorry, Angela.  It seemed like such a simple thing...

Team Why Mommy's Virtual Science Fair

Three things kind of converged in the last few weeks in a way that confirm my belief that we're all in this together.  My polygamist, gay, boyfriend, Jason is taking part in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure 60 Mile Walk.  He's doing it in memory of his mother and in honor of his brother, who was 11 when their mom died.

The second thing is that I was called back in after a yearly mammogram for a second look at what appears to be a calcification.  I have an appointment with a surgeon next week and look to be headed toward a biopsy.  I'm treating this the same way I've treated an abnormal pap result; I'm "concerned" lower case, not "CONCERNED" all caps.  My mom and my husband inform me they're doing the worrying for me.  I have very good people in my life.

The third is that I received an email from my dear friend, Jean, of Stimeyland.  I will always be grateful to blogging and to the universe for putting a person such as Jean in my path,  She is a good person.  She is smart, funny, caring, enthusiastic, energetic, self-effacing, and did I say wickedly funny?  She is the person you want in your corner.  She's got your back.

To wit: the email explained that a mutual blogging friend, Susan at Toddler Planet was going in for another round of surgery to address, heal, and kick cancer's ass.  Apparently, cancer didn't know who it was dealing with the first time.  Susan is yet another truly good person.  I had the pleasure of meeting her at BlogHer last year in Chicago.  Susan is an astrophysicist and a mommy.  And has cancer.

Jean came up with the brilliant idea of a Virtual Science Fair to show our support for Susan but not for her (rat bastard) cancer.   So here I am, doing what I can on all three fronts of my our battle:

1. I send money, support, and love to Jason.
2. I make appointments and follow-up, and stay positive about my own health
3. I submit my sons' and my science project.  (I hope we get an Honorable Mention)

Absorption Experiment:  

After cutting stems, place white carnations in a cup of water and add food coloring. What will happen?

Mom: What do you think will happen to the flowers?
HRH: The flower part will turn the color of the food coloring.
Gremlin: I don't know.

Mom: How do you think it happens?
HRH: The water will come into the bottom and be sucked up into the flower and by my calculations, you will be able to see that color.


Mom: How long do you think it will take?
HRH: Maybe about a half an hour to three quarters of an hour
Gremlin: Don't know!

Mom: Do you think it will make any difference if the stems are longer or shorter?
HRH: Maybe if the stems are longer, it will take longer to absorb.
Gremlin: You're a fast writer.

Mom: Do you think it will make any difference which colors we use?
HRH: Oh!  My food coloring dropped.
Gremlin: Mom, when can we start?
HRH: Mom, when can we start?

Natives getting restless. Time to move on to the doing:

Start time: 2:59 pm

Beware the dangers of food coloring.

4:17 pm - Change occurring in tips of petals!!

 

9:30 am (18 hrs, 31 minutes)

To Susan, I offer you this lovely bouquet of cheap-ass, $1.00 carnations now filled with all the colors of the rainbow.  I also send strength, healing, prayers, love, and good wishes. We've got your back.

Head over to Stimeyland to check out all the fabulous science-y expressions of love for Susan!

Happy Valentine's Day, Charlie Brown!

Gremlin and I spent this afternoon volunteering in HRH's class. We helped the kids decorate their brown paper bag Valentine Holder Bags, watched as the kids distributed their cards, read Valentine-related stories, and cleaned up. I love how truly excited the kids get over their little die-cut valentines; lots of Star Wars from the boys, lots of Disney princesses from the girls, a few really cool, homemade ones (not from my kid).

The ritual itself really hasn't changed that much in the *cough* thirty+ years *cough* since I performed it. Each year, I can't help but think of the best, worst Valentine's story I ever heard. My friend, David's.

Back in grammar school, David's teacher sent home the requisite list of names for every kid in the class. The night before Valentine's Day, each child conscientiously wrote out their Scooby Doo/Holly Hobby card for each of their classmates, alphabetically, according to the list.

The next day, the children took turns walking up and down the rows of the classroom depositing a valentine on each desk...or almost every desk.

As the valentine piles on every other child's desk grew, David shrank lower and lower in his seat. His teacher, conversely became more and more agitated, frantically searching for the list of names sent home. Sure enough, David's name had been omitted from the list.

In her vain attempt to correct her error, his teacher then had each child select one card from his or her pile to present David with a second hand, name-scratched-out valentine.

David's okay now. Surprisingly not a serial killer but a rather accomplished Harvard grad, living his life with his beautiful, intelligent, younger wife - and a great group of dear friends, who mock him mercilessly every February 14th. He laughs too. As he puts it, Charlie Brown ended up with the little red headed girl after all.

What's your best, worst Valentine's story?

If You Build It, She Will Come

C'mon, people. Did you really think I'd miss this?


Combined with this?


That's right, not only is The Boston Wine Expo this weekend but my wonderful bloggy friend, Kristen will be selling her awesome Baby Brewing wares. And guess who she asked to help??

ME!!

That's right, so for all my local friends, both IRL and Bloggy, make sure you stop by the Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine booth to say hi and take a look at all her very cool clothing and other fun ideas. I can't wait!

Cheers!

Manic Mommy Zeitgeist - 2009

Each year, Google publishes its Zeitgeist, compiling all the various search terms all of us collectively have typed into that little box in the upper right of our screens which, taken as a whole, present "the spirit of the times" for 2009. Never let it be said that I let a good idea go un-plagiarized. And so, with the help of Google Analytics, I present:

The Top 5 Manic Search Categories for 2009

5. Alcohol:
- The answer to the burning question of 2009? No, you're not supposed to have alcohol while on Nutrisystem. You're welcome.

4. Perverts:
Looking for:
- Joan Van Ark barefoot (srsly?)
- Picture of babes in bra blouse
- "she's old but she suck"

3. Potty Issues:
Some that I can relate to, although not necessarily help with are:
- Baby ate dirty toilet paper
- Boy Plunger
- Is it normal for a four year old to smear toothpaste all over? (Answer: YES!)
- My two year old son at dirty cat litter

Thanks for making me feel normal again!

2. Manic Behavior:
- My wife is a little manic + constant phone calls/messages
- What do you do when you're manic?
- He's the manic
- She's the manic (wouldn't you like to be a manic too?)
- Words to She's a Manic


1. General Silliness:
- Do bees have tongues?
- Cheap Mommy Vacation (see category #5)
- christine@christinerocks.com

and my favorite key word search for 2009 is:

- My dog gave birth three days ago and is painting still.

Here's wishing us all a prosperous, peaceful, happy, healthy 2010 full of optimism and opportunity.

Happy New Year!