Adventures in Babysitting

This morning was an interesting one for me. Two days a week, for sanity-saving purposes, I take Aaron to daycare. Those treasured Tuesdays and Thursdays allow me time to job search, go on interviews, get some stuff done around the house, and, like today, go get my hair cut. I wake up on Tuesdays and Thursdays a happy person, because I know that I won't be losing my temper on an hourly basis, fighting the stubborn will of an almost-two-year-old all day long. I don't think I'm a bad mother for those two days, because I think it provides me a breath of fresh air, since it seems that my son inherited his stubbornness, short temper, and hardheadedness from his mama. And when you put the two of us together for an extended period of time, tempers flare and he usually wins. 

So you can imagine that this Thursday morning (sidenote: yay Thursday! Tonight The Office and Grey's Anatomy come back!!) I was pretty much happy go lucky. Until I walked into Aaron's room to wake him up and get him dressed. HE WASN'T THERE. Um, ok, so the gate in the hallway was up, so there were limited places he could be. Guest room? Nope. Bathroom? Nope. Did he manage to sneak into our bedroom whilst I was performing -- er, morning duties? Nope, not there either. OK, he can't climb over the gate, so what's going on? I call out his name -- no babbling response. I start to panic. But before paranoia sets in, i walk back into his room. Why is that blanket in the corner? Ah ha. There he is, sleeping soundly on the floor tucked in the corner of his room, fully hidden from view underneath the blanket. 

I get him dressed, get his shoes on, and tell him we're going bye bye. (He waves at me.) Ok, let's go. Where are Mama's car keys? .... hmm, where are Mama's car keys? 

"Aaron? Keys?"

"teeeeeeees."

"Aaron, where are Mama's car keys? You know, KEYS? For the car? Car goes beep beep."

"Buh-beep."

"Yes, good job. Beep beep. Where are Mama's car keys?"

"Teeeeeeeees."

Getting nowhere fast, I scour the house for the keys, looking in all the usual places: in the sofa cushions, behind the loveseat, in the broiler (yes, that is a "usual spot."), behind the TV. Nothing. 

After a full thirty minutes of searching EVERYWHERE, (it's a small house, and there aren't that many hiding places!) I'm starting to fear a full day at home alone with child and no way to leave. The thought is petrifying. So I intensify my search. OK, think like a toddler. Nothing too high, so the keys are definitely below my waist. What did we do yesterday? We ran around the living room. Under the coffee table... no. On the bookshelves? No. Double check the couch cushions and behind the loveseat. No. Windowsill? No. Ok, what else did we do? Pulled out more toys from the toy box. The toy box. YES. The sight of that SAC keychain almost makes me cry. Hurry up, kid, you're off to daycare, and Mama's on her way to sanity. 

A Word

I'm sitting on my couch, watching the Emmy Awards (sidenote: to get to this page, I had to open my internet brower, where my homepage ruined any surprise that I may have had at the conclusion of this show. But that's another rant...) and I just have to say that I am getting more and more annoyed with celebrities who think that they are in any way qualified to tell me that their political views and opinions are valued simply because of their profession. Here's a newsflash, folks, you are ACTORS. I watch you for entertainment purposes ONLY. If I wanted to hear what you had to say regarding the current administration, or your views on the respective candidates, I would require that you have more credibility and the ability to do more than pretend to be someone you're not. Because, let's face it, that's what you're paid to do. Entertain me. And don't for a second think that you will influence my vote. I can think for myself, thank you very much. 

My Friend Meghan

I've been holding off on this post, because I wanted to be able to tell you all about my new job, why I left my old job, and all sorts of other new and exciting things, but since I don't HAVE a new job, and things are more or less the same, that blog has yet to materialize. However, since my lack of blogging seemingly has caused other undue distress, I have decided to make this blog entry about My Friend Meghan.

We often refer to Meghan as MKO. Before she married Andrew (more on that later), her last name was O'Brien. Her middle name begins with a "K." And while I know what her middle name is, I'm not positive she likes having it advertised. So hence, MKO. So if you ever see me refer to an "MKO," it's very likely that I'm not talking about one of the Olsen twins.

Meghan married Andrew (and for those of you who like to combine names, a la Brangelina, Bennifer, and the like, these two are dubbed "Meghandrew." Please don't forget the "h," as Meghan will kill you. Kill you dead.), and Andrew was Ian's college roommate for four years. They have a man love that Meghan and I will never nor ever want to understand. Whenever they're together, it's like Meghan and I are not even in the room. And occasionally, we're ok with that. Other times, such as in 2001-02, we form clubs, such as WACS. (Women Against Counter Strike).  Whenever I see this video, I often think of Ian and his BFF Andrew. (Though it is also quite funny of it's own accord.) 

Meghan is a Liability Adjuster at The Hanover Insurance Group. Or so it says on her LinkedIn profile. I think that means that she decides whose fault it is.  You'd have to ask her to find out for sure, though.

Meghan's favorite TV show is Gilmore Girls, and I think she was seriously depressed when the show went off the air. 

Meghan and I wore the same dress to the senior formal, and as a result, we refused to be photographed standing next to each other:

Meghan's wedding had golf carts, and my husband, an attendant in the wedding party STILL talks about how cool that was, and how we should have had golf carts at our wedding. Then I remind him that we got married in DECEMBER, and the Meghandrew nuptials were in JUNE. 

This is a picture of Meghan and I when she and some of our other friends came out to San Diego last year to surprise Ian on his birthday. Meghandrew TOLD me they were going to come out to San Diego again this year, but then they went to D.C. I'm still not sure the hurt has fully healed for either Ian or myself, but Meghan assures me that, when I least expect it, she will be sitting on my couch waiting to be entertained. I LEAST EXPECT IT EVERY DAY, MEGHAN!

Meghan and I are both HUGE Patriots fans. When Ian and I move back to New England, we are going to go to a lot of games together. I haven't yet told her about my plan to go in 50/50 on season tickets when that happens, but I think she'll find out about it soon enough...

 

So that's My Friend Meghan. And since I rather enjoyed writing that post, I might make it a feature, and tell you all about my other friends, too.