I never should have taken that hit of acid

Last week, I started going to acupuncture to get Stupid Daddy off my back per my husband's thoughtful recommendation to see if I could get the anxiety and depression I've been dealing with my entire adult life--and especially lately--under control.

I tried acupuncture once before, when I was in my twenties, and didn't notice a lick of difference. (I've also tried a whole mess of other alternative stuff too--like reiki, holotropic breathwork, a vision quest, a shaman--and felt the same, even though I desperately wanted something to happen.) Still, I've never categorically written off the treatment; I just assumed I was one of those people it didn't work for.

But something's happening this time. Like today, I was lying on my stomach with a whole mess of needles in my back, peering through the hole those tables have so your spine can stay aligned. And all of a sudden, the view to the base of the table and the floor below telescoped, and I was floating way high above the table, and I was dying. I WAS DYING! And I was weeping because I was really sad that I wasn't going to see my family ever again. Stop it! It was really fucking sad.

And then, just like that, everything was back to normal again. I dozed and then they woke me up and I paid, which woke me up a bit more, but I've been spacey all day.

So I don't know what it all means, but I'm encouraged. Because I'm someone who has never ever left the ground, you know? Never left reality. My stagnant liver qi must be getting worked over. My yin and my yang must be working it out. This crazy needle shit must be working.

already proud of her girl parts

Lilah: Ezra have a penis?

Me: Yup.

Lilah: Daddy have a penis?

Me: Yes, he does.

Lilah: You have a penis, Mommy?

Me: No, I don't have a penis.

Lilah: Oh. I have a penis?

Me: No, you don't have a penis.

Lilah [face brightening]: I have a rash!

married almost seven years

Him: You wanna have sex tonight?

Me: My eye hurts.

in very poor taste

Me: So [my second cousin] Nate is off to play baseball with a German league for the next six months.

Stupiddaddy [pouring some honey on his challah]: Wow. Cool.

Me: Yeah. Marcia [his mom] said she has mixed feelings about him playing for Germany. Can you believe it? I mean, what are these people still holding against Germany?

Stupiddaddy: Seriously. It's 2008, folks. But can you imagine--your mom must be aghast.

Me: Yeah.

[pause]

Stupiddaddy: Hey--get it? Aghast? A-gassed?

[hysterical laughter]

not exactly what I had in mind

Levi eats his hot dogs plain--no bun, no relish, no ketchup. After serving him one the other night, per his request, I realized how pathetic and unbalanced it looked rolling around alone on his red plate. Sure, it was an organic beef hot dog--not the bad-for-you kind--and sure, I have incredibly low standards for dinner on the nights that Stupid Daddy is away in Georgia, but still: a kid needs more than that to make a meal.

"Levi," I said, "what are you going to eat for dinner besides a hot dog?"

There was a long pause while he chomped down and chewed.

"Another hot dog."

lies their mama told them

Levi is very excited about the prospect of turning five in July--although that might as well be the next century as far as he's concerned. Levi also has this annoying habit of climbing into bed with us every single night and then digging his feet under my back (no matter how warmly he's dressed), heaving himself on top of Stupid Daddy, and just generally fucking up our sleep.

So last week I decided to tell him that he couldn't turn five until he stayed in his own bed. And he totally fell for it! But he still gets into bed with us every night.

And lately, both boys have been asking me to feel how strong they are. Ezra actually flexes his biceps, but Levi just holds his arms in that position and I have to pretend that what I'm squeezing doesn't feel like cottage cheese. And they talk a lot about how eating good foods makes you stronger, and how exercise makes you stronger, and drinking milk makes you stronger--some propaganda campaign they're getting at their schools, I guess.

Tonight in the bath, after a very challenging hour of getting them home and fed, they started up with the muscle routine again: "Feel how strong I am, Mommy," and, "Feel this muscle!"

In a moment of inspiration, and with a knowing twinkle in my eye, I told them, "Did you guys know that following my instructions helps your muscles grow? Yup, it's true. Every time you pay attention and do what you're told, your muscles get a little bit stronger."

And they kind of looked at me like, Huh, okay, good to know. But getting them out of the bath and dressed and into bed wasn't the slightest bit easier.

So, in sum, honesty may be the best policy after all. Combined with a good spanking.

bye-bye, y'all

Can I just say how much I love these two?


We got to hang out for a while on Sunday, and a little bit last night, and then again this afternoon, and I laughed my ass off for most of it. At the very least, I was smiling.

Tomorrow--already!--they're off, with their two big dogs, and their Nalgene bottles tucked away in exactly the right spot if Tex has anything to say about it, on their 12-hour drive back to Madison, where I think it's probably snowing again, and where they will--I'm certain of it--immediately begin plotting their move to Asheville so they can be closer to me.