Ten kinds of people to avoid are:

10. Those who mark each holiday like they’re ticking them off cheerily and dabbing their pen on their tongues. Check! Yay! That was fun. When you’re out and about and you run into them they sound like this:

“Christmas? Oh, Christmas was FANTASTIC! The whole family came in town and we were so B-U-S-Y. Between hand-sewing gold braiding on all 72 of the stockings and making enough rumballs to feed all the friends we visited while we did our caroling through the neighborhood, we were barely able to make it to church where we all had parts in the Nativity Scene. Everyone got what they wanted! We’re taking a trip to Paris in the Spring! Oh, and I made homemade EVERYTHING with hoity toity ingredients and fresh truffles we had specially flown in from the coast and LEMON-RUBBED-FRESH-BASIL-MARINATED-STUFFED-SOMETHING-OR-OTHER.”

9. The friend who wants to make everything all right. There’s no mention of their wrongdoing, they just want to wipe the slate clean. In fact, they really don’t care what they did in the first place.

“You know, I can’t go into 2009 with a clear conscience unless we make up. Can we make up?”

8. Anyone already losing weight.

7. People who want to argue about carrying a gun and somehow tap that logic into “guns save lives”. I just want to shoot them. Except I don’t have a gun.

6. Members of any political party (ok! with ANY PARTY!) affiliated with the Illinois Governor.

5. Wealthy people who are pretending they are suffering horribly in this economy if they have to cancel a ski trip.

4. Celebrities. Always avoid celebrities. Like, daily.

3. Any person who uses “baby daddy” and fails to laugh or giggle or smirk when they say it because they’re dead serious.

2. Those who enjoy cafeteria food. No good can come of a relationship where that is the crux of your beliefs.

1. Me, when I’m in a foul mood since I’ve wanted to take 2008 out behind the school and beat the living daylights out of it for hurling itself so forcefully on me. Or shoot it. Shit! I’m going to join the NRA in ‘09.

I am taking Thumper’s advice: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nuthin’ at all.”

So I’m shutting up now.

I’m using the title “Particles” even though it could have been titled simply “Parts”. It’s only bothering me to let that stand because once, at a time when I was very impressionable, a professor said that said people who use “usage” instead of “use” are pretentious and putting on airs to sound smarter than they really are. Professor Uppity McSnob would probably say the same of using the word “particles” instead of “parts”.

Actually, I’m just avoiding the word “random”.

I’m Over The Age of 21

Grocery store shopping brings out the beast in me. I have a specific goal in mind whether it be a a long list or a just a few specific items. It’s more fun stressful with children, of course, but mine are all of the age where I can say, “Can you run and get a tub of Cool Whip variety of fruits, please?” while I scope out the lines for the shortest one with the fastest checkout person. You know that drill, right? Well, Eddie knows what I’m talking about with his bit on the New Queue. Tonight I was buying wine so I had to factor in the approximate age of the checkout person. However, the shortest line did not equal the eldest cashier so I got in line and sent the boys off for some items knowing full well that she’d probably have to call for someone over 21 to come ring up my libations.

“Hi. How are you?” she asked.

“Fine, thanks!” I responded (perhaps a bit too chipper) while transferring my items from the cart.

She reached for the wine and I was checking out her nametag which read “Lizzie”. Surely, “Lizzie” was a young girl who would have to call for someone old enough to allow me to buy my Jesus Juice.

At that moment she squinted in my direction and flipped the script on me.

“Do you have ID with you?”

Dang. She was old enough! And SHE THOUGHT I WASN’T. But come on. Do I really look under 21? I do not. I do not look 20.

A Really Good Feel Good Movie

Today was incredibly cold. So cold that I don’t want to give it descriptives because it would just serve to irritate me that I live in a place that is so cold. In order to combat that, the boys and I shopped, wrapped presents, and watched movies. The best one I picked out was Lars and The Real Girl. It seems like everyone I know had seen it already so I finally caved when one of my friends assured me that I would like it.

Like it? I loved it! If you don’t know about it (thus making me the second to last person to see it) then let me preface this by saying that I am in no way going to give anything away. Lars is a troubled, delusional man who seeks companionship in a doll he bought at an adult online shop. Clearly, a disturbed guy. But the movie never makes his dilemma a one-liner nor does it condescend to the small town folks who behave as if “Bianca” is a real woman. Since I’m deeply in love with Patricia Clarkson I assumed she would be my favorite character and she didn’t disappoint. In acting, she never does. See it. If you’ve seen it already, see it again. It’s that phenomenal.

Tis The Season!

I have come to this season with a pretty crappy attitude. I know I’m not getting any big, special gifts (except for the heartfelt ones from my children) and it’s wearing on me to hear, “What are you doing for Christmas?” or “What will Santa bring you this year?” because my initial reaction is to remove their spleen with a dull knife. I’m not to be out for public consumption this year, really I’m not.

Each time someone does or says something annoying (yes, and it’s just to me) I respond with 2 thumbs up and a cheesy grin and declare, “‘Tis the season!”

“Kelly, I just wrecked my car!”

Grin. “‘Tis the season!”

“Did you know we’re losing money on this project?”

Obnoxious Cheshire Cat Smirk. “‘Tis the season!”

I expect to be killed in my sleep over this.

The Lord’s Name

A recent hardship felt by our staff led me to have a long discussion about it in my office last week. The first response to it from a teacher was:

“Jesus Christ on a crispy cracker!”

Uh. Ok.

“You know, taking the Lord’s name in vain this close to the baby Jesus’ birth is sorta frowned upon.”

“Oh. From YOU? Queen of the Potty Mouth?”

“I’m just saying. The Lord has no room in His life nor yours to experience your nasty name calling.”

“Would it be better if Jesus was on a fancy cracker?”

“Yes. Like a Ritz. Or a cracked pepper one.”

“Meh. True enough. He tastes like chicken anyway.”

Related: Jesus? If you’re listening? Don’t punish her. Just give her other bad words to use. I don’t think you taste like chicken. Amen.

Speaking Of Jesus

Our high school played basketball against the local snooty Catholic high school in a game and our pep squad section was out in full force. It was a big game as it always is against them. They’re known for recruiting student athletes and catering to the wealthy. Basically, it’s a money school. Our students dress up and wear orange for the Orange Crush section at all the games and they also make signs. It’s probably inappropriate then that I laughed uproariously when I saw one of the signs they made to bring to the game.

“Jesus loves us for free.”

Related: ‘Tis the season, Jesus. Really. It is.

Survived:

a day that started out with a longer than necessary phone call

wondering where a laptop went that I was keeping in my office

finding the laptop nearly an hour later

reading a handwritten note from a student about some terrible things done to her

calling DCFS

stocking up on shoveling Pringles and Zingers into my mouth

lunch duty

post-conference teacher evaluations

trying to get a student off the phone in my office area when she was clearly abusing phone priveleges

yanking the phone out of the wall for the rest of the afternoon

co-workers stumbling into my office to figure out why I yanked the phone out of the wall

feeling really badly about the whole phone issue and my overreacting to it

finally getting a Christmas tree

the laughter that accompanies friendly visits to my house about my pathetic Charlie Brown Christmas tree

the joy Mallory feels when she stands next to the first Christmas tree she is taller than

CatrinkaS is the winner of the Build-A-Bear! Contact me with your mailing address so I can get this sent out to you right away!

Well, look at that. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve updated the questions and written a second part to this series. It seems that many of you are either “fascinated” or “intrigued”. Oh, those aren’t my words, I have just read about what people are saying elsewhere. There will have to be a third part to this series because I haven’t answered them all yet. But you’re still here reading even after my inane profession of love for Ira Glass, a couple of contests, and an experimentation with absinthe. Oh, maybe that last one didn’t happen. Yet.

Wifey

That said, do you feel guilty for giving her up? I am sure it was the right decision based on your situation, just like Mom’s, but did the guilt come back when she did? Also, if you do feel a little guilt, how are you dealing with it? Have you set up boundaries between the 2 of you? If so, how? How are your other children dealing? Have they set up boundaries with her? If so, how? I would assume that the “new” daughter has a bit of jealousy brewing…how are you and your other children dealing with it?

Ok, so I just told you what I didn’t want to hear, but Wifey brings up that question that is so prevalent in conversations so I will answer her, but she also has a different set of circumstances. (Plus, she’s a Heather so I’ll let it slide this time.) If there is an emotion that feels like guilt when you get pregnant and place a child for adoption I can only say that is a fabricated one. Why would I feel guilty after deciding to give a child life? Honestly, the dramatics involved in those ridiculous LifetimeTV movies and the like are there to tell you that everything you do is wrong. It’s why I don’t buy beauty magazines – they serve to make me feel bad about myself. Certainly none of it was planned and I did the best I could at an adverse time.

The only boundaries we’ve set up came out of the first time we ever spoke on the phone. I promised to have integrity in all she asked and that I was willing to reach back out to her and give her all I possibly could. Simple? Yes, but does this need to be more complicated than it already is? As much as I would, in any normal circumstances, want to step in where my children are concerned and set up boundaries I have chosen to let them set those up for themselves. The four of them are able enough to work things out, call each other on the phone, write to each other, etc… Struggling to find a position of power in that instance is an exercise in frustration and disappointment that has no room in my life right now.

What is like to be such a warm, caring and authentic person?

That’s an interesting turn of phrase. There are no fantasies about what I want her to be to me except another child. The way I took that question made me wonder if, for instance, I hope to be at her wedding someday or be invited into parts of her life. Certainly, I hope to be invited, but there’s a fine line there because she has a mother already and I couldn’t possibly expect to have that place of honor in her life. We both acknowledge that our relationship is mother-daughter, yet I know it’s more thorny than that. If Maddie is talking about me to her friends she uses the word “mom” and this forces them to ask, “Which one?” but she doesn’t appear to be faltering with that. Our family just is right now; in existence, in action, in theory, and most importantly, in loving openness.

To answer the second part of your question, it’s exhausting being this warm and caring! Well, I would say I’m kidding but I know that’s not too far off the mark and this much I know to be true: authenticity is imperfect and most of the time I feel quite inadequate. Nothing else seems to work in life unless you care for your fellow human.

JessicaAPISS

Have you received this reaction of gratitude and admiration from your family and friends? Have you allowed yourself to feel strong and proud for making such an awesomely loving decision?

I don’t suppose I usually view the reaction from people as grateful or admiring. Sometimes all anyone can say to me is, “That’s incredible. I don’t know what to say.” The shade it takes on is more of care and a constant taking of my temperature. “What are you feeling today, Kelly?” Everyone has, unwittingly, become my therapist and forces me to reflect. In that way I think your second question is answered: when they force me to meditate on this I am amazed I was ever a selfless person, though it probably looked more like “terrified” in a forcible manner.

Fiona

What would be helpful to you? What words would provide a smile / assistance / etc.

I would be greatly helped to know other women in my position, but if it didn’t greatly resemble my own situation it’s safe to say that I would back away from a new relationship right now. There’s too much fear in trying to re-create someone else’s life. When my mom and sisters and family speak words of care to me that is sometimes assistance enough. But to get me to smile, I want words that sound natural and not forced when people talk to me about Maddie and not act as if she’s a secret that requires whispering to discuss.

V’s Herbie

Do you have a relationship with Maddie’s adoptive parents? Do you want one?

No, I don’t. That answers both questions.

Mommymae

How are you and what, if anything, do you need, lovely?

Today I’m pensive and moody and in need of chocolate. Tomorrow I will want a really good song to bring me out of it. The next day I will need to work up a sweat while jogging. But every day I need words of encouragement. Those never seem to fail. I wouldn’t turn down a weekend at a spa, though.

Beth

What kind of wine will you be having with your cheese?

The Beringer Private Reserve 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon. That’s my big girl wine.

Merrily didn’t so much as a question as give me the offer to use her as a reference. What I learned, when visiting her site and bloghopping to others, is the word “First-Mother”. Meh. I don’t need any more labels on me so I’ll just let that lie right where it is, like a piece of gum in the gutter.

BotchedExperiment

Did you consider having an abortion?

I would be lying if that didn’t cross my mind, but it just didn’t appear to be an option for me. I’m not trying to be too careful when I say that, either. To be truthful, I didn’t know how I felt about abortion at the time. If one doesn’t have an opinion on such things, why would one choose it? Since I couldn’t answer that question at the time, I couldn’t make that choice. It’s not noble nor was it a brave choice. Unless you consider my stupidity brave.