I went to Joann Fabrics once and I didn’t like it. It is an ugly place and there is too much linoleum and the staff are all bitter white ladies wearing clothes they made themselves (in questionable patterns, I might add) and they are just looking for an excuse to patronize you. Plus, the fluorescent lighting doesn’t do anyone any favors. So, Zeca’s request to go to Joann Fabrics made me anxious in the “I will fake my own death to get out of this” kind of way.

In my sweetest and non-cluckiest voice, I said, “I can’t take you today but we will go at some point.” She nodded her head adorably and bounded off.

Within a week, she had used all of the yarn she had and asked again if I could take her to Joann Fabrics and, again, I said, “I can’t take you today.” Unlike the previous time, she did not nod adorably. She sneered. A sneer from her was better than a sneer from the crazy ladies at Joann Fabrics so I was undaunted regarding my current course of avoidance.

Several weeks passed and I was running errands with a friend and she mentioned that she needed to stop at the Crafty Planet to get yarn. This was my chance – I would buy Zeca a bunch of super soft yarn in a variety of colors and she would forget all about Joann Fabrics! I spent $40 on gorgeous yarn and, later that evening, presented it to her like an offering.

She smiled and said, “Thanks Mom. I really appreciate it but I still want to get the blue yarn from Joann Fabrics.” That was it. I needed to put an end to this.

Me: Honey, I think it’s time to move on about Joann Fabrics.

Zeca: But I want to finish my scarf and I need the same yarn.

She looked at me with those beautiful brown eyes and I did something I rarely do. I lied.

Me: Well, I went to Joann Fabrics earlier today and they didn’t have your yarn.

Zeca: They were out of it?

Me: Yep. All out.

Zeca: Weird. Gertrude came to school with several balls of it. She must have bought everything they had left.

Me (to Zeca): Yep.

Me (to myself): Sorry to pin the blame on you, Gertrude, but this has got to end and it ends today.

Me (to Zeca): Can we move on now?

She nodded sadly and went to knit with her expensive non-Joann Fabrics yarn. I had slayed the Joann Fabrics dragon! Huzzah!

A few days later, Zeca came home from school and said, “Mom! Gertrude came to school today with more of that yarn! They must have gotten more!”

Fucking Gertrude.

Me: I thought we had moved on.

Zeca: But I still want to finish that scarf. Can we please go to Joann Fabrics?

Me: I can’t take you today.

And we were right back where we started.

As Valentine’s Day approached, I realized that the perfect gift for her would be that damn yarn. So, I grabbed her unfinished scarf and drove to Joann Fabrics…except that, when I got to the store that I thought was Joann Fabrics, it was actually Hancock Fabrics and I realized I had no idea where Joann Fabrics was. I was so frustrated and – I have to be honest – I blamed Gertrude. This seemed like the perfect time to try out Siri on my fancy new iPhone.

Me: Where is the nearest Joann Fabrics?

Siri: I can’t help you right now. Try again later.

What?! Was she drinking gin and tonics and playing bridge with all the other Siris?

Me: Where is the nearest Joann Fabrics?

Siri: I can’t understand you.

This is not how it goes on the iPhone commercials.

Me (speaking slowly and with impeccable diction): Where. Is. The. Nearest. Joann. Fabrics?

She finally answered and I had to drive all the way from one undesirable suburb to another.

When I arrived, I dashed into the store, looked at no one and spoke to no one, wandered the aisles and finally matched the yarn. I briefly considered buying all of it so that I would never have to return but only bought four blobs of it.

On Valentine’s Day, I set the yarn out for Zeca with a box of chocolates and I was her hero for a day. Interestingly, she still hasn’t finished that scarf and the urgency seems to have passed. I’ve been given a reprieve.

I just hope Gertrude doesn’t take up bullfighting. We don’t have the space.

The day started out well. I woke up before the alarm went off which was good because Miguel was asleep in my bed. He’d had trouble sleeping the night before and had come into my bed. So, waking up before the alarm meant that he would remain asleep.

ONE POINT TO VIKKI!

I went downstairs and was two cups of coffee into the day when I looked at my watch and it said 5:05 a.m. I figured it must have stopped because I had been up for awhile as evidenced by the number of cups of coffee consumed. I flicked my watch only to notice that the second hand was moving after all. I was confused. If I got up at 5:45 then how could it be 5:05? I briefly considered the following possibilities:

1. I was dreaming.

2. I’d finally had a psychotic break.

3. I was a secret time traveler.

I was hoping for #3 when the explanation became obvious. I’d actually gotten up at 4:45 instead of 5:45.

ONE POINT TO THE UNIVERSE!

I woke the kids and told the kids to get dressed and told them to make their beds and then I made the lunches and started breakfast and then yelled upstairs to tell the kids to come down to eat and they did and they saw the lovely Valentine’s Day bounty that I had laid out for them – cards and chocolates and blow pops and an iTunes card for Miguel and special yarn for Zeca. They were giddy and grateful. They were cooperative for the rest of the morning and then I loaded them into the car with their class Valentines and their decorated shoe boxes and everything else they needed for the day and dropped them at school…on time.

ONE POINT TO VIKKI!

After school, I gave both kids baths and made dinner. Then, I decided to do some laundry because a) I was so on top of all this parenting/household running biz and b) Miguel was out of pants. I sorted the laundry with skill and efficiency and was carrying two enormous baskets of clothes down the stairs when I missed a stair and went crashing down to the landing with the laundry baskets smashing into my left shin. It hurt. I cursed. Miguel came running over and said, “You ok?” I barely had time to nod and he said, “Can we get on iTunes now? Can we download music?” Such a thoughtful kid.

ONE POINT TO THE UNIVERSE!

We made it through the evening and I tucked the children into their beds and sighed deeply at having gotten through another day – one made more complicated by trying to make it “special” for the kids. I got a glass of ice water (living on the edge) and laid down on the couch to do a whole lotta nothin’ and then? I started my period.

ONE POINT TO THE UNIVERSE!

You won, Universe. Well played.

Luisa doesn’t mind doing it but I do. She looks at it as an opportunity to be alone. I see it as being forced to mingle with annoying people who are often hygiene-impaired.

Luisa buys only what’s on the list but I tend to be an impulsive shopper and would buy a chocolate covered tire if it struck my fancy in the moment.

Luisa looks at prices and I can’t even tell you the going rate for a gallon of milk…even though I just bought one yesterday.

Luisa makes sure that she gets everything on the list but I will come home without an item rather than ask someone at the store where it might be and then will lie to Luisa and tell her the store was out of it (Luisa – I would never do that. Ever. That time I said they were out of ground turkey? They could have been. Big kiss to you.)

But Luisa is in Zambia which means that I had to go grocery shopping this past weekend.

Zeca went ice skating with friends and I dropped Miguel off for soccer. I had an hour and a half to do the shopping before I had to pick up Miguel.

I headed to the coop and the parking lot was full and all of the street parking was taken as well. I needed groceries so I was prepared to drive around the parking lot until a space opened up. There were a few other cars circling as well. We had all been driving around and around for 10 minutes when another car entered the game. This is where is gets complicated so I prepared the following diagram to help illustrate what happened next.

Car I (Innocent Woman) and Car V (my car) had been circling when Car J (the entitled JERK driving the shiny new black BMW) entered from the North Entrance and got in line. A parking space then opened up right next to Car I and – because she had been driving around for some time – the spot rightfully belonged to her. However, Car J who was in front of the space that opened started honking and motioning for Car I to move back. First of all, it was ridiculous to think that any of us could back up because we all had cars behind us. Secondly, HE HAD NO RIGHT TO THAT PARKING PLACE! He backed up enough that Car I could not pull into the space and then continued with the honking and the motioning.

I was furious. I will admit that, when I saw him pull in, I made some assumptions about his character but he then proceeded to show himself to be exactly the type of person I imagined him to be – entitled. I rolled down my window and spoke to the coop employee who was standing by the cart corral thingamabob. I said, “This is ridiculous.” He said, “What would you like me to do?” I said, “I would like you to go up to the guy in the BMW and tell him to move on so that the woman in front of me can pull into that parking space.” Much to my surprise, he said that he would.

He went up to the BMW and motioned for the guy to roll down his window. I could not hear the conversation but I saw the driver of Car J shake his head “no” and he then resumed his honking and motioning. Car I backed up a few inches and Car J did an elaborate 7 point turn and parked in the parking place.. Car I moved forward and I moved into her previous position which was then behind Car J which was parked. I put my car in neutral, pulled my emergency brake and waited for him to get out of his car. When he finally did, I spoke.

Me: You had no right to that parking space.

Jerk: Peace lady.

Me: You drove in here and expected that spot when the woman in front of me had been waiting for 10 minutes.

Jerk: I had been waiting.

Me: No you hadn’t! I watched you drive in here in your shiny new BMW acting like you’re entitled to whatever you want!

Jerk: Shove it up your ass lady!

Me: You shove it up yours!

Road rage has nothing on parking lot rage! There were still no parking places and the parking lot was now full of circlers. I had already spent 20 minutes on this parking lot fiasco and still had no groceries.

So, I left.

I am a mild-mannered person. I’m not confrontational and I had NEVER gotten into an argument with a stranger before that fateful day. Now, we can add the following to reasons Luisa does the grocery shopping:

Luisa doesn’t rumble in the coop parking lot. Vikki does.

I dragged myself into the bathroom and used the neti pot which is different from the potty though I used that as well. Not at the same time, however. I’m just not that coordinated. I then went downstairs to make coffee and remembered that I had set it the night before and, if I could have made out with myself for thinking of that…I still wouldn’t have (see previous description of my appearance and general health). At some point during my first cup of coffee, I decided to call in sick to work to sleep. This lifted my spirits which were quickly dashed upon the rocks when my son bounded down the stairs an HOUR before he usually gets up. He then sat on the couch and watched me drink coffee. I told him to go to bed and he said “no” because he wanted to be with me and I said that I loved him very much but didn’t want to be with him and then he guilt tripped me and said he’d be quiet and then I said “but you can’t be quiet” and then he assured me that he could and then spent the next hour proving himself wrong.

I did manage to get the kids ready and to school without losing my patience despite the fact that they argued over who had to brush teeth first and I wanted to bang their heads together so there were no more teeth to brush. After I dropped them off, I came home and slept and, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, it was time to pick them up which only proves that sometimes time flies when you are not having fun.

After we returned home, I realized that crabbiness is one of my superpowers. I won’t bore you with the details because I’ve already bored you with so many details. Let’s just say that I was not a shining example of motherhood. I did make fajitas though so there is that.

Shortly after our fajitas, the children retired to the back room to tickle each other and do loud annoying things. I could hear the giggling. I could hear things escalate. I warned them to calm down and told them that it would end badly. They shrieked in joy and told me that they were having fun. Five minutes later, Miguel began to scream and cry. Zeca rushed into the living room to present her defense (an admirable performance – holding her allegedly injured hand while explaining that Miguel had bent her finger back). Miguel rounded the corner sobbing and threatened Zeca’s life before informing me that Zeca had choked him out and then punched him in the face. Zeca then burst into tears. I told them that I didn’t want to hear the explanations and told them to go to their rooms. They ignored me and chose to sob/yell/argue with each other. I then yelled with the authority of James Earl Jones and the volume of a concert loud speaker “GO TO YOUR ROOMS!” And they did.

Eventually, I allowed them to come down and they did a dramatic re-enactment of the incident for me. It turns out that Miguel did twist Zeca’s fingers (to get out of the choke hold) and Zeca did punch Miguel in the face. Case closed.

Somehow, we all survived the evening.

This morning, I woke up refreshed-ish. Maybe Day 2 will be the low point of this single-parenting gig. Yes? No? Maybe? Please.

The key to a successful morning of single parenting for me is to get up very early. This guarantees that I will be able to have coffee without interruption. I will admit that I did not bound out of bed at 5:45 this morning but more oozed out of bed. Bounding. Oozing. Who cares? I got up.

In no time at all, I was on the couch with a cup of coffee and my laptop. I normally read Twitter while having coffee but today I decided to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Everything was going well (except for the nasty issue of the witch casting spells on unsuspecting cheerleaders) until Momo jumped on my lap and dumped my cup of coffee all over me which stained my sweatpants (see exhibit A as evidence). I did not kill the cat because, if you remember, I must keep all of us alive for two weeks in order to win this game and I do so want to win. So, I yelled at the cat and tried to shame her which was quite ineffective.

After Buffy, I woke up the children and packed lunches and made sure the kids got dressed and brushed their teeth and then I made them breakfast and then I packed their backpacks and then I did an elaborate tap routine involving a cane and top hat and then I dropped it low and did a little hip hop number and – for the grand finale – I did a back handspring. Ok…I didn’t do the dancing and springing but I did everything else. THEN, I got the kids into the car and to school on time. I even took them to the right school.

Day 1 went pretty well. I hope tomorrow involves fewer coffee stains. If not, the cat gets it.

Last year, I suggested to Luisa and our friends, Kris and Kristen, that we host a Sumo Wrestling Night to raise money for the kids’ school. I said something like, “Hey! Let’s rent sumo suits and drink cocktails and wrestle and it will be amazing and funny!” And they all responded with something like, “Oh my god! That is a great idea!” because they all recognized a good wacky idea…or were thankful that there finally was a good wacky idea since they probably still remember the time I suggested we build a hay bale maze in the back  yard.

So, we put the event up for auction and got quite a few people to sign up though many of them were unable to attend. Last Saturday was the big night for our small group. We had cocktails, sake and Sapporo to go with lots of sushi. We had sumo suits and Japanese rap music (Yes, I am cheating on Nicki Minaj with a Japanese rapper named Hime). We even had brackets! Every tournament needs those, right?

Each match consisted of three rounds. I can now tell you from experience that three rounds is a lot of rounds when you are wearing a sumo suit. The more you move around the more tired you get. Luisa served as our referee.

The final standings were:

Third Place: Me

Second Place: Kris (one of the co-hosts)

First Place: AMIE!

I was pleased with my showing, especially after my horrible performance during the Christmas eve leg wrestling matches.

Here is a video for one of my three rounds with Kristen (who kicked my ass in leg wrestling). As you can see, I redeemed myself (I’m in blue):

Sumo wrestling is hilarious and fun but sumo dancing? Awesome. Thanks to Cathy for letting me post the following video:

And…if you need any recommendations on Japanese rap, I am your woman.

So, I got up and put on workout clothes and found my lock and put everything in a little bag and went to the gym. I was slightly concerned about my appearance because of my 1)impressive bed head (think punk rock rooster) and 2)my tattered pink tie dyed sweatshirt. I ditched my sweatshirt as soon as I got there but the bed head was there to stay. My only hope was that everyone would be so distracted by the sight of my muffin top that they wouldn’t notice my whacked hair.

I went up to the track and put on some Nicki Minaj and started making the rounds. A few minutes later, I saw a woman jogging while carrying her big black purse and I felt much better about my bedhead. I actually laughed out loud but then pretended to choke so that, if I called attention to myself, people would feel sympathetic about the choking and then not notice my bedhead. Of course, a few other people joined the motley crew and life was good. There was the woman running in jeans with a sunglass case attached to her belt. Lots of old ladies in slacks and sweaters. I looked damn good which made me realize that I am FINE and just need to keep weirder company so that I look good by comparison.

When I finished and got back to the locker room, it was packed with naked old ladies – like a dam had been holding all the naked old ladies back and the dam burst and there were naked old ladies everywhere! I’d never seen anything like it. The sight made me feel pretty good about my boobs.

So, the moral of the story is that working out really does make you feel better about yourself.

I took this picture after taming the bedhead. Note: I am a clothed old lady.

Tuesday morning was one of those times and I began to ponder the squirrel community. I began to think of the squirrels not as long-tailed rodents that watch me suspiciously every time I leave the house but as “a people”. Do squirrels play roles? Do they have jobs? Do they make fun of the squirrels with the fucked up tails? I knew that I could look all of that up on the internet (well, not the tail part) but I was interested in these complex issues in a more abstract sense.

Of course, you can only think about this for so long before you begin to wonder what role you would play in the squirrel community. Right? Everyone does that right? At first, I thought I would be Queen of the Squirrels. Squirrels should definitely have a queen. Bees have queens and they are smaller and buzzier. I allowed myself to imagine myself as Queen for a few moments. I didn’t picture myself in a teeny tiny squirrel crown or anything – that would be silly. I just imagined being the head of all the squirrels and them coming up to me and asking what to do next.

“Queen, should I grab that bagel and drag it up the tree even though I’ll look ridiculous?”

“Queen, what do I do now? Huh? What do I do now?”

“Queen, shall I brush your luxurious tail?”

I briefly enjoyed the imagined power. I could see myself instructing my furry minions to chase and terrorize the humans while I laughed but, in the end, I realized that I would never be the Queen of the Squirrels. I would more likely be the Queen’s right hand squirrel. I would totally be the kind of squirrel to do the queen’s bidding. I would order people around for her and diffuse situations for her and entertain her with my nut themed humor.

I wondered if there was something wrong with me. I mean…who creates an entire imagined Land of Squirrels and then doesn’t even want to oversee it? The right hand squirrel – that’s who.

By now, you are probably expecting a point to this discussion of squirrels which is weird because – at this very moment – I’m realizing that I don’t have one. I guess we can just all think of squirrels together. Or maybe we should all buy a squirrel a latte. Or maybe I’ll throw that bag of leftover Christmas nuts out for the squirrels and be Queen for a day.

photo credit: Tomi Tapio via photopin cc

There were 10 adults, 7 children and 3 dogs.

There were Scrabble games.

Some worked on a jigsaw puzzle late into the night.

There were movies – a new generation hooked on Indiana Jones.

There were kids and adults working together to drill into the ice for fishing.

People ice skated.

There were walks in the woods on the island across the lake, the woods barely visible in this picture.

The grown-ups built a fort out of downed trees while the kids wandered freely out of sight.

There were incredible meals and good wine and beer.

The kids’ iPods played a loop of “Telephone”, “5 o’clock in the Morning”, “Price Tag” and “Dynamite”.

Seventeen people is a lot of people. One of the most surprising things I experienced this past weekend was calm. There were many moments that required absolutely nothing of any of us. I know that the kids are growing up but this was one of those times that I felt it.

Being connected to me comes with a price and that price is LOTS AND LOTS OF WORDS- many of them unnecessary. I try to restrain myself with Luisa because she has to live with me and my words in real time. Most of my messages to her were something like, “I’m home” or “We need ice” or “Can you bring me a glass of water?” Kristin and Deborah got all the extra words.

I wish that I had saved all of those BBM messages because some of them were hilarious but – alas – most of them are lost and the world is a sadder place as a result. When I knew I was getting my iPhone, however, I saved a few between Deborah and me. It gives you a feel of what it’s like to get messages from me although there are usually a lot more random Nicki Minaj lyrics thrown in.

V: The guy is grunting a lot in the kitchen and I find it disconcerting.

D: I can’t imagine why.

V: I want another cup of coffee but the coffee is in the kitchen with the grunting man!

D: You should be a detective!

V: Well, I kinda am for my job.

D: Yeah, except for normal people whose houses don’t look like Grey Gardens and people who don’t eat cat food.

V: When I write my book about what field social work is really like, I will say, “Never look in the bucket. Never. Just no.”

D: Good advice about the bucket.

V: I blogged. It’s shitty but the chute is cleared.

V: And that last bbm was unintentionally rectally metaphorical.

Deborah and Kristin and I all got iPhones. Luisa still has her Blackberry (hers is through work) so she had to get an app that would allow us to do the iMessage/BBM thing. We are now a technologically bi-cultural family. It has its struggles but we’re making it work. I am happy because I can once again share my every ridiculous thought through iMessage! Because, apparently, doing it on Twitter with hundreds of people isn’t enough. I told you – LOTS AND LOTS OF WORDS.