You’re never too old to become younger.

While putting the lid back on a Tabasco bottle:

Cassidy: Is Tabasco a drug?
Me: Uhhhh, no.
Cassidy: But on the back of my book it said ‘Tabasco, alcohol and…’
Me and Ben: *laughing hysterically*
Cassidy: What?!
Me: TOBACCO. Tobacco is what’s in cigarettes. Tabasco is made with pepper, vinegar and salt and makes your eggs taste better.
Cassidy: Ohhhhhh…

When dropping off clothes at her friends so she could spend the night:

Me: Call me in the morning.
Cassidy: I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.
Me: No. Call me in the morning.
Cassidy: Can I call you when I’m ready to leave?
Me: We can discuss it when you CALL ME IN THE MORNING.
Cassidy: OKAY!

The kid keeps me on my toes for sure. She’s growing into such a cute little bundle of RIDICULOUS ATTITUDE. But some of the things she does, like that conversation at her friend’s house, still make me giggle like I’m nine years old all over again. Of course, I don’t let her see me giggle. That would be admitting defeat and she can’t see that. She has to see me being the cold hearted, uncaring, ruthless MOTHER.

Plus, I make up for the attitude by embarrassing the piss out of her in public. Having no shame is finally beginning to pay off!

Santa Claus has the right idea. Visit people once a year.

OMGHI!

I know that I’ve been Teh Suck at updating regularly and I could totally lie to you and say it’s because I’ve been SO BUSY with… THINGS! Important things! Things that take important time!

The truth is I just haven’t felt like writing.

But since it was Christmas and all I thought that I should take the time to make some kind of Christmas type post so you don’t all think that I’m some horrible holiday hating Scrooge or something. Because that’s only partially true.

I do love the holiday season. I love the house lights (and really think that they should stay up all year and not just because I hate taking ours down, they are pretty and the neighborhood seems so boring and bland after New Years), and I love cookies (as witnessed by the two pants sizes my ass has expanded in the last month), and I love the music (as long as it’s MY MUSIC and not that crappy mall muzak shit, Kenny G playing Silver Bells with that horn thing he uses puts me in one mood; the mood to sleep). Ben and I just had a rough few months prior to the Christmas season so it was hard for me to get into the mood right away and it didn’t really hit till about a week before The Big Day.

I think one of the hardest things for me to grasp this year is that this is probably going to be Cassidy’s last “Santa” year. She’s already really skeptical but I could tell that there was still a glimmer of magic in her eye as she asked the questions you expect a kid to start to ask when they are putting the pieces together. Next year she’ll have become one of those precocious 10 year olds that pretends to believe in Santa because she knows she’ll net a bigger profit if Santa is involved. She’ll start to complain about having to take the lights down, and she’ll start rolling her eyes at the Kenny G musak and she’ll see the cookie making as a chore instead of a fun activity and it’s all just kind of depressing.

But! I still made the most of it and Christmas day was great and she ripped open 30 presents in 4.7 minutes flat. We now have more Hannah Montana CRAP in the house than I’m comfortable with and I’m pretty sure that I funded the next month of Hannah’s life with said CRAP.

And I wrapped some of Ben’s presents in Alliance wrapping paper. That alone made Christmas day ROCK.

And now the obligatory list of fabulous loot. I’ll keep it to the big and fantastically bad ass things.

• KitchenAid Artisan Stand Mixer in Red from my mommy. <3
• Senseo coffee maker also in red from Cassidy.
• Tickets to see Beauty and the Best in May when it comes to the city from my dad. It will be Cassidy’s first Broadway type play and we are both really excited.
• A really nice laptop bag from Ben.

And last but certainly not least was DxO from Ben. It deserves to be separate from the bullets because it is THAT bad ass. It’s this really advanced photo correction software that uses all these complex mathematical algorithms to correct photos caused by known “flaws” in camera body and lens combinations. So in layman terms, it make pretty pictures EVEN PRETTIER. They have a free demo if you have a DSLR and want to give it a try.

And now, the look forward to 2008 which will require another obligatory post about the past year and what I expect for the NEXT year and I’m sure that “Rinse, Repeat!” isn’t going to cut it so I’ll be back sooner than you think! But just in case I don’t, have a great New Years Eve everybody! Drink lots, don’t drive and ring in the year with people you love and don’t want to punch in the face if you do get too drunk!

*hugs*

Five things I’ve learned since my last blog post. Bulleted.

• When you get to the grocery store and there is not a single cart outside, run. As fast as you can. Away from the store. That is a sign that every cart is in use IN the store and venturing in will lead to cussing and general feelings of discontent.
• Never assume that handing in a paper is the end of an assignment. In 4th grade, it only means that you’ve STARTED and two weeks from that point there will be a “project” to turn in that your nine year old will suddenly remember to tell you about 48 hours before it’s due.
• When you go to hack illegally upgrade your iPhone, it’s not best to start that 74,526 step process at 11:30PM. Because to get from 1.0.2 to a jailbroken 1.1.2 you have to upgrade to 1.1.2, then downgrade to 1.1.1 then jailbreak, then hack, then upgrade to 1.1.2 again, then jailbreak… again. And at 11:30PM you have the patience and clarity of thinking of a gnat.
• Don’t ever trust that America’s Tire has a mother fucking clue about anything related to tires. Or to understand how studs work. Or that they should probably check to see if wheels are STAGGERED before they put them back on your car. Because they won’t. And they’ll screw up your studs, put the front wheels on the back and the back wheels on the front somehow try and blame YOU because you have boobies instead of balls and “you’ll be out of her in 35 minutes” will turn into the most frustrating 4 hours OF YOUR LIFE.
• Cats will, without fail, wait till you have mopped all 2000 square feet of house before going outside, ingesting large amounts of grass and then throwing it up in various spots around said house. Cute little green packages of warm love… for me to step in.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow! We have company coming and I’m cooking enough food to feed 70 people. So if you are in the Bay Area and have nowhere to go, come on by, pull up a chair, enjoy the gluttony, and be thankful for stuff! If not, have a great Thanksgiving wherever you may be headed.

Three equals one.

I’ve been trying to write this post for three days now but it’s just not happening the way I want it to. I can’t get the words to formulate correctly into sentences that properly convey what I’m trying to say and it feels like if I don’t say it correctly or enough or with the proper amount of conviction that its a failed attempt.

I’m going to try again and see how it goes.

Last Friday a parent at Cassidy’s school very RUDELY questioned Ben’s parental authority… in front of Cassidy. That’s really the nicest way I can say it. I tend to fill the sentences with F and C words when I tell it in person. Man, backspace keys rule.

In reality she basically said to Ben: “You’re not her father so you don’t make that decision.”

Seriously, five days later the emotion those words stir up are… violent. Caustic acidic emotions that I want to spit directly into her face. Instead when I saw her that afternoon when she tried to speak to me I kept it very short and sweet:

“Do not EVER presume to think you can tell my fiance or daughter who IS and IS NOT her parent. Ben has raised Cassidy for over HALF HER LIFE. He IS HER DAD.”

What is a dad? Is a dad somebody that makes sure her teeth are brushed every morning? Who takes the time to explain long devision over and over and over with he patience of a SAINT? Who makes her laugh so hard she turns red and cries? Who helps gang up on mom and frustrate her to the point of actual brain combustion? Who makes sure she gets to school on time? Who provides food, clothes, toys and health insurance?

I think so. And Ben is all those things and so much more. He does all those thing, not out of a sense of duty, but because he loves Cassidy. Blood or not, she is his daughter.

This is not to say that Troy is NOT her dad. He is. And Mary is her step-mom and Amber is still her grandma and Big Troy is still her grandpa.

Ben and I have both taken the time to explain “step” people to Cassidy before. She knows that Nana is my “step-mom” and that I have “step-sisters”. But she also knows that Papa loves my step-sisters as much as he loves me. Equal. Not less or more. And she understands that while one Nana is my “mom” and one Nana is my “step-mom”, we love both grandmas equally. And they both love us just as much back. To us, “steps” just equal more love! Why have ONE Nana when you can have TWO!?

To Ben:

You are an excellent father. I know that. You know that. Cassidy knows that. Anybody that truly knows you, knows that. When she does something she is so proud of she wants to burst, you are the first person she runs to tell. When she wants somebody to explain something thats really important to her, it’s you she turns to. When I have a question or a concern, you are the first person I turn to. When I start to second guess my parenting or a decision I’ve made, you are the first person I turn to.

You are not only her father, you are my equal partner in raising OUR child. She will be the product of our upbringing. I can’t tell you how thankful that I am that she has you in her life, that WE have you in our lives. I can’t keep every moron out there from saying idiotic things to you, but I can remind you that the three of us are one family and that I love you and I look forward to raising Cassidy together with you. Until the day she turns 18 and we kick her out of the house.

There is no relief like the sight of her face.

I’ll start this post by saying that I am having the worst period OF MY LIFE. The only explanation to the amount of blood I’ve lost in the last two days is that I AM DYING.

I woke up Saturday, and about passed out. I normally am not bothered by the site of blood but I guess when it’s your own and THAT much it fucks with your head a little bit. I threw on the nearest clothes I could find and ran downstairs…

Ben: So I figured out how to..
Me: I have to go to Walgreens.
*grab keys, head for door*
Ben: Oookay.

Walgreens is only about two blocks away and I was there and back in about 2.75 minutes.

Purchased:

1 – Box Super Absorbent Tampons
1 – Box Regular Absorbent Tampons
1 – Package Super Absorbent Pads
1 – Box Midol
1 – Massive bar of Hershey’s Chocolate

The cashier was too scared to make eye contact. As she handed me my bag she said “Have a nice weekend?” In question form. Like, “Is it okay for me to say that or should I just shut up?”

The latter. But thanks!

The rest of the day was spent on the couch in labor. That’s the only way I can really explain the cramping. I did manage to catch up on all my DVR’s shows. Small victories.

This morning after breakfast with my mom is when the worst hour of my life took place. Cassidy was finishing up a chore (emptying the dishwasher) when Lydia, a neighbor girl, knocked on the door and asked if she could play so I told Cassidy as soon as she was done she could go.

Now, before I start keep in mind a few things. We live directly next to a cul-de-sac with houses on only one side. There are a TON of kids down there and it’s the only place Cassidy is allowed to go play. Up until today she has always been very good about staying in that cul-de-sac and ASKING BEFORE SHE GOES INTO A HOUSE. Just Friday she asked to go in Lydia’s house to watch a movie after they had already been playing for an hour or so.

So…

Cassidy finishes her dishes and asks to go out. I say GO! BURN ENERGY! GOODBYE!

10 minutes later: Lydia knocks on the door asking for her. I tell her she must have gotten sidetracked at Nathans. Check there.

2 minutes later: Lydia is back. She’s not there. Okay, I’ll go out and look she’s probably wandering and they are missing each other somehow.

5 minutes later: I’m back at the house. I can’t find her. Get Ben, help me look.

5 minutes later: Checked at all the houses I can think of EXCEPT Grace’s because Lydia said she had asked to play there and they were leaving so she’s not home.

2 minutes later: On phone with police giving them Cassidy’s description, address, cops on the way.

2 minutes later: Neighborhood parents and Ben have all headed out in different cars to search.

1 minute later: First two cops show up. Seriously, it was fast. Asking questions, searching neighborhood.

5 minutes later: Worst moment of my life “We are going to need about four recent pictures to identify her.” I almost vomit. I actually have to swallow back breakfast to hold it in. I’m about to lose it.

2 minutes later: Must stop pictures in head. Can’t think about that. Must stop them. Can’t concentrate. There is a picture of her on my desk but it’s over a year old and he said recent. Still can’t think because of the images.

1 minute later: Remember pictures I took this morning. Try to print. Printer won’t work. That’s it, I give up. I can’t do this. I just can’t do this. Brain starts to shut down. Sit in chair, put head between legs, going to vomit, can’t breathe.

Police officer outside: “We found her!!”
Me: “What?! Where?! Where is she?!”

Ben pulls back up at house.

Police officer: “She was in a house down the street.”

The one house I hadn’t checked. Grace’s fucking house. Grace who I thought wasn’t home because I wasn’t thinking with my HEAD and listened to an 8 year old.

The rest is a blur except I remember the officer telling me not to be too hard on her, the good news is we found her and she’s safe. I have a feeling he’s done this a few times.

Grab her, don’t want to let go. Feel like my heart is pumping for the first time in an hour. Still can’t breathe but food is going the correct direction in my esophagus. Ears start to ring. Blood rushing into my head. Adrenaline pumping. Can’t let go of her…

There really are no words to adequately describe the feeling. Those of you who are parents understand. Those who aren’t yet don’t and the words I could type would never be descriptive enough to tell what was going on when I sat in that computer chair. There just aren’t words.

She’s grounded. I’d like to say FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE but I’m trying to be realistic. She knows the rule about asking before going into houses and until today, she had always been very good about doing that. I’m also considering making her carry her cell phone with her from now on so there are no more days like this. I have pretty much every parent’s phone number EXCEPT Grace’s because they haven’t been living there that long.

And now I’m going to go help her build a fort in her room to sleep in tonight. And hug her. A lot. A week of being stuck in the house with me hugging her every 15 minutes so I can smell the top of her head and feel the warmth of her body ought to be enough to teach her a lesson since she turned 9 last month and suddenly hugging is SO NOT COOL.

Where a kid can be a kid and the parent can go clinically insane.

Next time I mention in my blog that I’m taking Cassidy to Chuck E Cheese, I expect all of you to virtually back hand me. Repeatedly. With a hammer. I love my daughter, dearly. And that’s the only reason I can come up with for voluntarily putting up with 500 screaming, misbehaving, sugared up kids and cheese covered cardboard passed off as “pizza”.

Usually at some point I try and break away from hosting duty (because I paid $20 a kid for SOMEBODY ELSE TO DO THAT) and go throw some balls. Skeeball. Sometimes I think about throwing the balls at the kids but I’ve always managed to control myself. Mostly. When the two year old wearing nothing but a diaper started running across all the lanes, I came pretty close to throwing a ball directly at the parent’s head. Except there WERE NO PARENTS. WHERE WERE THE PARENTS?!

I just threw up my hands and headed back to the table to continue playing hostess since the 16 year old in charge of running the party only actually showed up about three times and one of them was to hand me the bill. I think the rest of the time she was hunched over the toilet puking up whatever it was that kept her out till 5AM and at work looking like DEATH.

The only redeeming value of the trip is that Cassidy and her schoolmates had a blast eating cardboard, drinking liquid uppers and using tickets to buy crappy toys that will get stuck in the vacuum in a week. An absolute blast.

Seriously, hammer to the head. It would be a welcome alternative. Repeatedly.