Oh Lighten Up

I have not been able to update my blog for the past week due to unforeseen circumstances: I didn’t feel like it.  Now, before I can get to the juice I have some business matters to address.  At Thanksgiving, I learned through the grapevine (my family) that a certain genetic relation (my family) feels I have a “skewed view on sex and marriage and that I am mean to Mike”.  First reaction: Pissed.  Second Reaction Compliments of Therapy: I realized this asinine, unsolicited judgement bothered me because 2 of the 3 accusations were actually correct.

I DO HAVE A SKEWED VIEW OF SEX AND MARRIAGE!!!!  I happen to like both (one even more than the other.)  Now the third accusation:  (Eye Roll. Yawn.)  I do not need to treat anyone poorly.  I want Mike to get the most out of this human experience that he can possibly can and vice versa.  I am perfectly comfortable in my own skin and I am fully aware that my blog is not for everyone because not everyone has a sense of humor. And for the record: Mike laughs A LOT.  As wise reader Ann from Iowa sort of stated “If you don’t like it baby, don’t read it.” 

Bottom Line:  There was a time when I forced my brain to only think happy thoughts full of rainbows and glitter.  Annnnnd you know what happened?  My anxiety levels skyrocketed and I grew weird things on my ovaries.  It was a real fucking mess.  However, through continuous work and self introspection, I have learned to embrace that I am not the peaceful, ethereal being that I tried desperately tried to mold myself into being. 

I will always think dogs’ shitting is funny.  I maintain my stance that pharmaceutical companies could make a fortune by putting samples of anti-depressants in the bags of formula and wipes the hospital sends home with you when you have a baby.  And I have never understood why they sell different strengths of yeast infection medication.  Like seriously, WTF?  Would I rather have a hot mess of a vagina for 1 day or save $4 and stretch that sucker out for 2 weeks o’ fun.  And for the record if you choose the latter, you are most certainly a hypochondriac.  I hope that helps you on your own personal journey.

Now onto more significant and pressing matters like why I live in a commune.  My house is constantly filled with various friends, neighbors, children I don’t own and family members.  It is generally chaotic and I have long since stopped apologizing for its lack of cleanliness.  It is pretty fun over here.  Can I guarantee that your child will not consume red dye #40 in some fruit snacks? No.  Did I mean to give that adorable little Mormon girl my daughter used to play with my CAFFINATED nonfat cinnamon dolce latte with whip from Starbucks?  No.  But she drank the entire thing while I was going tinkles and I swear I have NEVER seen a happier child when I took her home 10 minutes later after she ate the interior of my car and did 3 Chinese fire drills. 

Anyway, my friend Katya called and informed me that she was bringing her 3 kids over a couple weeks ago because she wanted to see my daughter’s new pet lizard.  Katya and I went upstairs and I reached into the aquarium and plucked Crumb (the lizard) off her branch.  She immediately flopped over onto the floor.  Katya and I watched in horror as I picked her back up and she dramatically took a final gulp of air in my hand and FUCKING DIED.  It was sooooooo dramatic.  I sat her little body down on the dresser and screamed “CODE RED”! 

Mike came bolting up the stairs.  He immediately crouched over Crumb and attempted to administer CPR with his pinky fingers, sweat pouring from his furrowed brow.  He then reached over and yanked the phone jack out of the wall, separated the wires, flipped on the light switch and attempted to shock her little heart if reptiles even have one.  Finally, after 30 seconds, I gently touched Mike’s shoulder, “Baby, she’s gone, she’s gone.  I am so sorry.”  Mike sat sobbing on the floor pounding his head with his fists, “Whhhhhhy.  Whhhyyyyyyyyyy?  I am a doctor for God’s sake, I am trained to save lives.”  Hiccup. “Mike you are just a dentist,” I softly told him. 

I then looked over at Katya and said, “Well, we have to tell our daugher the truth about her lizard.”  Mike jumped up.  “OH.HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL.NO. I am NOT dealing with this shit today.”  Katya chimed in “Yeah Erin, Mike is right.  She wouldn’t understand.”  I stared at them in disbelief.  Mike piped up “I am going down to Reptile Jungle to buy her a replacement Crumb.”  My eyes narrowed.  “You a-holes are taking the blame for this when you betray the trust I have worked so diligently to build with our children.”  Katya shrugged “What?  By not leaving them at the mall? Get over yourself.  Do you have anything to eat?”  Mike tossed Crumb’s lifeless body in his empty grande Starbucks cup and left.

Author’s Note:  Mike’s startling lack of sentimentality leads me to believe that if I croak before him he will indeed flush my ashes, wipe his hands and find the children a new, hot, Swedish mommy.  Don’t think for one solitary second that I won’t haunt his ass.  

Twenty minutes later, Mike called to inform me that he bought a new lizard and that “it is a little bigger than Crumb.”  This sounded like a 5-year-old’s psychological calamity in the making.  “Can’t wait to meet her,” I said smugly.  “Um, it is actually a himnow,” he said cheerfully.  OMG.  

Captain Liar came bounding through the door and yelled for our daughter.  He opened up the box and told her “I had to take Crumb to the doctor.  She needed 4 immunizations and some vitamins.  She grew already and changed colors like Michael Jackson.  Then she became a boy, like Cher’s daughter.”  My daughter looked confused.  I held my head in my hand.  Katya just sat there breastfeeding and eating Cheez-its.  Annnnnd, just as I was waiting for the atomic bomb of deceit to drop, our kid said, “Thank you Daddy!!!!!!!!” Snatched her lizard and darted off.  Mike sat there with an arrogant expression while I stared off into the horizon and slowly ripped the check that we send in for her college fund each month.

Meanwhile, since we were distracted, the other kids had taken out Vinnie (our other lizard) and “forgot” to put him back into his aquarium.  We spent the next forty-five minutes tearing apart the house, searching everywhere for this lizard until Katya’s baby found him hiding under the couch, alive. This is probably a good thing since Vinnie does not have a tail and if Mike even considered performing an amputation to further avoid the inevitable emotional discourse that accompanies L-I-V-I-N-G, I was most definitely going to file.  Katya stretched her arms over head and told her kids with a yawn that it “was time to go.”  

Merry Christmas to all except my Jewish friends, in which case Happy Hanukkah, except to my African American friends in which case Happy Kwanza, except to my Jehovah Witness friends in which case Happy Nothing!  Smoochies.  Love to you all!  XO