I’m soooooo busy February 7, 2008

Yesterday I did nothing NOTHING that was the least bit useful or constructive. Julian and I went to the judgy, hippy playcentre up the street in the a.m. (side note: I hate that place. Seriously. It’s supposed to be this inviting, lovey atmosphere where the walls are painted with trees and little fuzzy animals and all are welcome to come and nestle into the warm bosom of this place of sharing and enjoy their children together blah blah wretch wretch… but I go there and the organizer-woman says “Oh hi, so nice to see you. We haven’t seen Julian here in a while” translation: “I guess you’ve been keeping him locked up in a closet feeding him non-organic dog food” and then she tells me there’s freshly made tea and coffee in the kitchen! Jeez. Seriously, can you believe that? What a bitch. Wanh wanh. But honestly, I walk through that place and all the parents are so “involved” with their kids and I feel guilty when I whip out Julian’s pre-packaged toddler snacks cuz all their kids are eating shade-grown organic homemade buckwheat crackers or some sh*% and when Jules wants to paint a picture I feel like they’re all watching me to see whether I’m a negligent mom who’s going to let him throw paint all over the walls and me and himself BUT if I hover over him to make sure he keeps his paint where it’s supposed to be they’re tsking to themselves because I’m stifling his artistic expression. And if we’re doing puzzles they’re judging me because I’m helping him too much or not helping enough. And god forbid my child should mention a television character, which he tends to do often (Dora and Toopy & Binoo are very important to us. VERY important) I think I’m the only mother there who has cable let alone *gasp* allows their child to watch it). Where are all the freaking moms who want to show up at a playcentre with their venti starbucks cup [disposable... no, I do not take my own travel mug] and ignore their kids so they can talk about last night’s reality TV show or the disaster that is Britney Spears? Is it too much to ask? Doesn’t anyone else want to steal a big, loungy pillow away from some book-loving child so that they can sit under a fake-wall-painted tree and relax? I want to do the bare minimum to keep my child from getting hurt while gossiping with other ladies and getting some social interaction. I mean, if I wanted to be involved and “play” with Julian I could stay home. At this playcentre it just all feels very staged – like they’re all doing it to show what good parents they are. I’m a good parent when no one’s around to see. I leave the house so that I can get a BREAK from that. I leave the house so that I can NEGLECT my child, dammit. Is that so wrong?) (don’t answer that) (and please don’t call Child Services) (Nor the Committee of Parentheses Overutilization)

So aaaanyhoo, Jules had a long nap and I managed to do… well… nothing constructive (as mentioned above). I didn’t even make dinner – we ate leftovers. Then we put Julian to bed so that John could get some good, solid studying done and I could be uber-motivated and pack all the stuff we have at my mom’s but at the last minute we changed our plans to include watching “How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days” on tv. I love that movie. Ooh, in fact, I can’t say that I didn’t do anything constructive because I did ponder (during a commercial break) who I’d probably choose to have sex with if I could pick from anyone in Hollywood. I think my top 5 are as follows (and in no particular order):

1) Matthew McConaughey (obviously he spawned this serious contemplation and exercise in personal growth because I was watching his FINE self on the small-screen)
2) Aiden from Sex in the City (yes, I realize this is a character, not a person, but it’s my list so F-off)
3) Justin Timberlake (I don’t know what it is. I had a dream once, it changed things…)
4) Daniel Craig (007. Nuf said)
5) Ryan Renolds (oh, did I mention that I’m going to force John to go see that terrible-looking valentine’s day movie with Ryan Renolds and that creepy kid actor who’s way too mature for her age? I am. And I’m going to eat a big chocolate bar that’s intended to be shared by several people but I’ll eat it all myself.)

This morning Julian and I went to the drop-in parent/kid swimming at the pool around the corner and it was awesome because for once I wasn’t the terrible mother who didn’t notice that her child was playing with roadkill on the street or whatever. Another woman was chatting (or I might even hasten to say flirting) with a dad that was there with his kid; meanwhile her toddler son went head-first off the edge of the pool into the water and it took her a good few seconds (that felt like hours to all of us watching the horror unfold) to get to him and pull him out. Ha ha – sucker. I didn’t drop my kid in the pool once (this week) (oh, shit, but he did fall off a step into a basket of dirty laundry and scratch his face earlier today. Talk about adding insult to injury when you not only fall but fall into a pile of your mother’s dirty undewear. Glech).

Anyway, tonight I seriously have to do something productive so I’d better go start getting motivated now cuz it’ll take some doing. So that’s it from me. Peace out.

Oh WAIT, one more thing. Can I tell you, internet, that my son is way too cute. He indulges me in my useless observations and makes up for the hippy moms that don’t know how to socialize. Like, for instance, he just woke up from his nap and we put on “the big comfy couch” and I observed that Lunette’s hair was looking particularly frizzy and that she’d benefit from some kind of hot-oil treatment and he totally humoured me, nodded and said, “uh-huh… frizzy” while pointing at the tv. Cute.