-image-Odds on Grandma

May 30, 2007 | Uncategorized

So they’re here…grandma and grandpa. My mom has already weeded the rest of our yard, swept our neighbor’s front walk and steps and our other neighbor’s window wells. The woman is possessed. Well, she may have felt compelled to clean up our one neighbor’s front yard after failing to watch over Jojo (her assigned task for all of 2 minutes while I went inside) while he uprooted some newly planted annuals. Oops.

Now? She’s sweepiing this cemented area on which our garbage can & recycling bins sit. Now she’s coiling the hose. Soon, she’ll wonder aloud when we’re going to go buy perennials. Should we place bets? Do you think she’ll again ask me what annuals I want for the front flower boxes even though I’ve told her thrice that I don’t remember, but I’ll know when I see them.

Bets on whether she’ll ask again if we’ve picked out a new front door (her subtle way of saying “your front door looks like shit.” Eventually, she’ll just say that. But that may take a day or two of built up frustration that I’m ignoring her and haven’t invested any time to researching new front doors.

Now I’m dad’s wondering what I’m typing so fast. “You don’t have any friends. You don’t have a fanbase, like me…who are you writing to?” Sigh. Comedians. All of them. Any minute now he’ll sneak up behind me to read over my shoulder, which is why this post must be published and hidden yesterminute.

Hope all is well in the blogosphere…I’m off to spend quality time with my nutty parents. Jojo says “MINE” and waves a suspicious hello.

-image-It’s 7:51

May 29, 2007 | Uncategorized

and he’s still sleeping. This is easily the latest he’s ever slept, although it’s not like he slept through the night, like he usually does. He was UP and rarin’ to do SOMETHING at midnight. The whole encounter left us feeling a little Lost…why don’t you just TELL us what you want us to do instead of pointing and whining and crying and handing us your blanket?

Oh right. Jojo can’t talk.

It was food. The answer was food. Yogurt and lots of water. We fed him dinner. I’m not quite sure where this desperate hunger came from– maybe a growth spurt? But, we fed him, brought him upstairs, and Mr. Squirrel and I breathed a cautious sigh of relief when Jojo reached for the crib, grabbed a stray binky and stuck his padded butt up in the air.

And now it’s 7:54. I’m showered. IRONED* (on a Tuesday!). Caffeinated.

Twiddle twiddle.

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*allow me to explain the ironing: my parents are here, and they were on the way…so I had to iron my pants.

-image-Deep Thoughts Friday — Now With Randomy Mediocreness!

May 25, 2007 | Uncategorized

I find it totally ODDola that yesterday’s post title was the same as the title of the LOST season finale. Can we discuss this? Are you ready or do you need a few more days to process what happened? Well, too bad:

You know, in the episode’s beginning, when the Lost survivors were walking along the ocean’s shore, with the rough raves crashing over onto the rocks? Yeah, that was like the site of one major honeymoon blowout. Like Walt’s dog, I skirted the safe edge away from the crashing waves that our guidebook so clearly warned us about. Mr. Squirrel, on the other hand, played more like Sawyer: walk along the edge and hey who cares if I get swept into the sea to drown after suffering a ginormous head gash and leaving my new bride widowed on her honeymoon and without the keys to the rental car and having to see the sharks rip your bloody body to more bloody pieces. Yep, that scene just brought back some serious pissedoffedness. Breathe…

Ok and then. What’s WITH THESE PEOPLE AND THEIR SECRETS AND LACK OF COMMUNICATION? My head might just EXPLODE here. Do we need to get a session with Dr. Phil? I have an idea, Locke. Why don’t you give Jack a REASON why he should put down the phone. Anything. Just GIVE HIM a reason. These people are all about orders and directives with NO reasons. Jack trusts Juliette…why? Why can’t you just tell people why you trust her? And don’t even get me started on that kiss. Was that for show? Does he really like her? Why would you kiss her if you love Kate… I mean, hello high school!
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I’m trying a new thingy where (sometimes) I comment within your own comment…in bold! This chica started it. Thank Blame her! Or was it her? Well, thank blame ‘em both, I say!
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Why didn’t I read this sooner? I needed it after the emotional fuckwittage that was Grey’s finale. I feel much better now.
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Also, you know how you get handed the task of updating the department’s PowerPoint presentation although you’ve only used PowerPoint once before? Because for some strange reason, everyone at work thinks you’re gifted in the graphic arts. But you’re not. You never claimed to be. Yet… the delusions continue. So. I’m you’re updating the presentation with your notes from last week’s meeting. You add some of this…some of that. The graphic selections blow, so you start adding in some jackassery photos as a joke because you’re just going to email this to your coworker, who will make the rest of the important changes and share them with the department at a later date NOT the following day because HELLO? You’re. Just. Kidding.

But then he goes and shows it to EVERYONE. Sigh.

-image-Through the Looking Glass

May 24, 2007 | Uncategorized

So Jojo didn’t cry when I left daycare today. Usually he does this big dramatic wailing with the projectile crocodile tears that land and quiver on his chubby cheeks. His teachers say he only cries for a few minutes, then he sits down for a snack and continues being cheerful and a veritable dreamboat until around 4:30 when the first round of parents arrive to pick up their kids. Jojo slowly falls apart– each new parent causes my son more distress. Apparently, he’s tried to leave with a few of the moms and their kids: if I’m not coming, he might as well pick out a new mommy to feed him dinner.

Today, I chatted with his (awesome) teacher for a bit longer than usual. Jojo stood right at my side, then would turn and bury his face my legs. He hugged my knees (a new thing, I don’t mind it so much now) and repeatedly lifted his arms up in an attempt to get me to give pick him up for more hugs. I’ll admit it: I love the hugs, even if his shoes leave dusty footprints on my sweater. I think he knew I would still be leaving, but sticking around just a few minutes more allowed him to get the right amount of hugs, kisses and snuggles to make it through the day.

When I left, he didn’t cry. Instead of rushing out to my car to get to Dunkin Donuts work, I peeked in through the window to watch Jojo. That is when I almost lost it. He looked so small and frail. I don’t know why. Maybe it was the tiny toddler-sized table that he quietly walked up to, pulled out a tiny chair and sat down on. Or how he swung his chubby legs while waiting for his teacher to make the snack. His big blue eyes were fixated on his teacher making the snack. Once in a while, they’d swing over to another toddler at the table, kind of a cool observation — “waiting long?” — but still, no whining. No crying. No behavior which he so loudly and emphatically displays at home with Mr. Squirrel and me.

But I don’t really mind. I suppose I should. Or maybe not? I don’t know– he seemed resigned to the fact that at daycare, he has to wait for his teacher to serve many more toddlers than just him, so there’s really no use in whining. Or maybe it’s because another toddler had his favorite truck. Or maybe he just wanted to sit in his loaded diaper and wasn’t really hungry. Who knows what’s going on in that beautiful cranium.

I just know I cannot WAIT to go and pick him up in an hour and feel his arms around me.

-image-Contest: Things You Don’t Want Your 8 Year Old Neighbor Yelling to You In the Middle of Your Street

May 23, 2007 | Uncategorized

Oh, I won. Sorry. Contest closed. The winning phrase?

“I know why you’re cross-eyed!”

Oooooh goody. You do know how I *love* to win things AND have my looks LOUDLY commented about, nay YELLED ABOUT, IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR NEIGHBORHOOD!

Thanks, one, for announcing that I’m cross-eyed. I realize that you’re EIGHT and you’re curious. You’ve gotten to know me. We talk a lot, and you and your brother are much more comfortable hanging out with me and Jojo than ever before. You’ve obviously noticed my not-so-great-at-tracking artificial eye, and you want to know what’s up with that. I hear ya. I just haven’t, in my adult life, had to deal with a child asking about it.

And now that I am a certifiable adult (I got the certificate framed in my home office) and you being all of 8, I should probably not respond the way I did when I was 8 to other kids on the bus. I also shouldn’t respond the way I did the few times that other adults asked me in a rude way what was “wrong with my eye.” I need to be the adult, helping you to learn appropriate social skills. I just don’t know what to say to that, though. I wasn’t prepared.

So I laughed and rode off with my toddler in tow, behind my husband, who didn’t hear what you said. I didn’t tell him either. I was just so embarrassed.

The encounter brought up the insecurities and self-consciousness that I’d gotten over years ago. Now with Jojo, I have to think– will kids make fun of him because his mom has a “glass” eye, is cross-eyed and looks weird? Will he learn funny comebacks and sarcasm the way I did? Will he completely clam up when people catch him off guard with awkward questions or observations?

And it’s making me very uncomfortable. Maybe I should respond the way I did when classmates asked when I was little. Usually, I’d make light of it and just (deep breath) tell the truth. In fifth grade homeroom, I made my eye– the accident, how it was made and how to care for it– the subject of my first in-class speech. My teacher called me “brave” and gave me an A. I just thought I’d answer the questions ahead of time.

Of course, with the phrase yelled by my neighbor, I know he knows the answer of how it happened (cat scratch, infection, going blind, had to be removed) and why I look the way I do (uh, I’m not the bionic woman, here). But I’d still like something prepared for how to discuss with him why I, personally, would rather not have it yelled about in the middle of the street. I want to give him enough information so that his curiousity is exhausted, and we can move onto other conversations. I want to be more than “the cross-eyed neighbor.” I guess I just want to have it all planned out before hand. And that’s not how life goes, now is it?

-image-It’s Tuesday, people. Get with the program.

May 22, 2007 | Uncategorized

It’s Grateful Tuesdays! Today I’m grateful for…

1. I’m grateful for my friend, Terri, who I once observed negotiating with her toddler daughter. I remember thinking “I gotta remember this if I ever have kids!” Her daughter wanted some cookies as a late afternoon snack. Teri told her big-eyed daughter, that yes!- she could have 2 small cookies. Teri’s daughter counter-offered with a big smile and her thoughts: “three cookies?” How could her mom resist those eyes? The chubby cheeks? The curly hair? Oh. She did. Terri wisely and kindly responded “you can have 2 cookies or no cookies. Which do you want?” Her daughter chose 2, said thank you and chowed down. I’ve successfully used this with Jojo over the past few months. Just look at the results: my son’s developing sense of style and no fussing when getting dressed to go outside! He chose that outerwear with those frog boots all on his own. Confident. Daring. Carry on.

2. I’m not a big fan of planting flowers– I’m more of a weeder. I like flowers, don’t get me wrong. I’d just rather weed than plant. Just a few weekends ago, I weeded part of my neighbor’s backyard for fun. I especially enjoy digging down to the evil rootage of the dandelion (I had a picture of my dandelion tool, but I lost it. Sorry.). Jojo loves my dandelion tool of death, too, but I won’t let him touch it. “Mine!” he says, reaching for it; but he’s learning “it’s mommy’s tool, not a toy.” I mean, it’s like a toy to me, but that thing could poke an eye out!! I’m grateful, however, that Mr. Squirrel and I did plant some of these purple thingies on the side of our house that Jojo oversees and that beautiful flowers are blooming all around our yard. Jojo’s promotion to Head Plant & Flower Specialist shouldn’t come as a surprise– I mean, he is our son, and he did finally stop popping the heads off the tulips.

3. I’m so grateful to have good health insurance. With around 44 million Americans not insured or under insured, I’m very grateful to my employer (and my husband’s employer) for providing us with such good coverage. Ok, I’d better knock on some wood.

4. This sweet wheelbarrow (shouldn’t all Head Plant & Flower Specialist have their own wheelbarrows?) and other wicked cool toys my neighbors bestow upon Jojo: 4 riding toys, a wheelbarrow, countless smaller trucks, balls of various sizes & colors, wooden puzzles, a Little Tykes croquet set, picnic table, the list goes on and on. I’m grateful to have such thoughtful and generous neighbors. We just pulled this out of the garage (seat AND bike) from some neighbors who moved away last summer. Jojo loves it. I mean, how can you not love riding so close to your mom’s ass?

5. My husband. He’s so wonderful. I don’t deserve him, but I’m grateful he fell for me, too! Look at what arrived to accessorize my new laptop? He smartly chose the orange one for me.

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Dudes, WHAT is Randy wearing on tonight’s AI finale?

-image-Ok fine

May 21, 2007 | Uncategorized

I’ll stop writing about the Mets. Can I lure you back with photos of sweet Jojo? Yes? Good. Here’s my son enjoying his father’s double hamburger after claiming it with an effective and definitive “MINE!” But he looks so sweet and innocent, doesn’t he? He ate at least half, just like that.

Oh, and Jojo wanted me to remind you to submit your Quadrant Pics because his mommy may plot tonight! May I remind that there are no dumb answers, only sad people who are left off Thee Quadrant for not playing along and then they get all “I forgot to answer” or “but but but” and NO. No more excuses. Don’t be left off. Just answer the friggin’ questions. KISSES!

-image-Mr. Squirrel makes a funny

May 20, 2007 | Uncategorized

Mr. Squirrel fancies himself the comedian. Like when I asked him how he liked my air-dried hair today, he said “it’s very Sawyeresque.” Un.Called.For.

And see, that’s why you’re not getting any tonight. Well, that and I’m tired. And want to read. (edited to add: and apparently blawg and blawg and yadda below.)

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Mrs. Squirrel’s Open Letteresque to Any Major League Baseball Player Who Has Played Against Derek Jeter

Only because I can’t find any of the Mets’ players email addresses…shocking, I realize. As I may have mentioned before, I like to write and email people. Usually people write back; The Today Show staff doesn’t write back, probably because I only write when I’m infuriated with them. Whatever. I’ve heard from others: Ty Pennington (before he was all extreme and/or drunk), Emily Post, Jodi Picoult, Jesus. I don’t know. People just email me back. Try it. You’ll see.

But I can’t frigging find any player addresses, and I’d like to answer a question Mr. Squirrel has regarding playing against Derek Jeter. As you probably don’t know, I may or may not have served Derek Jeter some fast food pizza in his high school days. The jury is still out, but I like to pretend I did. And therefore, I like to pretend we’re on a first name basis. I guess I am one degree of separation from him (Derek Jeter served as best man in the wedding of one of my dad’s coworkers, who I know and who gave me a hug the last time I saw her– that’s SO one degree away, right)? SO, yeah, Derek and I go way back. In fact, I think that means Derek gave me a hug.

Maybe I’ll ask my therapist what she thinks: an answer & a nice upgrade on the ol’ meds… a twofer!

Ahem, back to my question. One of the Mets (not hot, so I don’t really bother reporting the name) was on base next to Derek, and Mr. Squirrel wondered aloud what the Mets player (ok, FINE, it was Shawn Green and he actually does look a lot better after the buzz cut…check out his picture though– not attractive, dude. I’d ask for a new pic.) calls Derek Jeter when they do the small talk. Apparently his first name could not be the answer.

Nor…
Me: Derek? Jeter? DJ? J-Dog? J-Money? The Jeternator? Senor Tight Pants? Mr. Happy Socks? Hotty McTightButt?

Nope. These just didn’t sit well with Mr. Squirrel. SO OBVIOUSLY, my solution lies below:
a. Call up my homey, Derek, and just ask him. But ya know, he’s busy and all.
b. Ask my dad to ask his coworker (who may know or could email him).
c. Email Endy or Shawn or Derek by trying different email addresses since I can’t seem to find them anywhere, as my loving husband thinks “probably to keep stalkers like you away.”
d. Post this open post/letter to request Shawn Green, Endy Chavez or Derek Jeter to answer said question.
e. b & d

Ok, you’d have to be a roaring moron if you don’t pick option A.

Also: um, what was my point?

And this post seems way to Jeter heavy, when clearly, although I have a hometown bond with the hottie McYankernator, my heart and groinal zone belong to the Mets. There. I said it. And now I will leave you all scratching your heads and wondering why you stopped by here at HollowSquirrel to go read a very sad book (by an author who emails readers back!). Awww snap– look what Amazon recommends for me. For the LOVE, Amazon, I’m depressed, not bipolar. Get it right.

-image-They live like this, right?

Uncategorized

It’s Sunday morning, and Mr. Squirrel and I had another ROCKSTAR evening last night. WHEW I can’t believe we rock like we do.

A sample of the stimulating conversation:

Sample Conversation #1

Mr. Squirrel: if we go to a METS game, I’m going to bring an “Endy Chavez for President” sign.

Me: Sweet. Good idea. But he’s not American. And he’s not 40*. I don’t think he can be our President.

Mr. Squirrel: oh right. That’s too bad. He’d be a good President. Julio is old enough to be President.

Me: Yes, but again, he’s not American. Bummer.

Me: That doesn't leave us many Mets that could be President. I'd want 'stache to be the President. He's hott.

Mr. Squirrel: He’s 40. He’s old enough to be.

Me: No, he’s 37.

See the problem here, people? I knew that the Mets’ 2nd baseman’s age (for other Mets fans– YES, I know he’s on the disabled list right now but I choose to believe he will be back, despite the excellent performances by the backup 2nd baseman and the backup backup 2nd baseman).

Sample Conversation #2
Time: 8:52 pm

Mr. Squirrel: Wanna watch Hustle?

Me: Sure.

Mr. Squirrel: Or we could go to bed.

Me: Ok.

Mr. Squirrel: I’m going to check the Mets highlights again and meet you up there.

Me: I’ll read for a bit until you come up.

Lights out: 9:13 pm.

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See what Mr. Squirrel cooked up at New To Us!

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It’s funny how mistakes bring out the lurkers from Lurkingville… (hiya stranger!) ya gotta be 35 to be the President (and other assorted requirements), although no IQ requirement necessary!

-image-Deep Thoughts Friday — Should I? Dare I?

May 18, 2007 | Uncategorized

Could it be? Time for another Quadrant? Why yes:

1. The movie: The English Patient. Do you side with the Academy or Elaine? Jesus, people. I guess NO ONE has seen this movie but me, so I have to change the question to something everyone has seen/done:
Revised #1: When you PARK YOUR CAR at a mall or large parking lot, do you typically troll around the parking lot until you find the best spot or do you just take what you find first and then hoof it?

2. Kevin Bacon, looks only– please consider his early work (Footloose) and his recent “work” (Hanes commercials). Would you kick off your Sunday shoes for the boy (if ya know what I mean) or would ya rather flatline? Didja get it? Ok good.

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Holy SHIT did ya’ll see Shear Genius? With six stylists left, and paired in teams of two, the two that I thought would be in the finals together got ousted last night, in large part due to Tabatha’s shitty attitude. Seriously. I don’t know who is going to win. Now it’s anyone’s game. Welll that’s not entirely true– Ben and Boogie cannot make it to the finals, right? Right? Please momma make Boogie go home. And yes, you can email me directly to discuss. gmail.

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Finally, can I just tell you how weird it was to talk to my dad last night and have him ask me what I thought of Wednesday evenings American Idol results? Funny, he blames ME for them watching it, since the last time they visited, we watched it together– but that was only because I refuse to watch the Golf Channel, and nothing else was on (not that there’s anything wrong with Idol…I just don’t have it in my line-up).

For the record, he loved Melinda and thought she should win. He also really liked Phil (scary looking bald dude). As for the finals, he admires Jordin’s stage presence and appreciates Blake’s risk-taking; but in the end, Jordin is his idol. He also proposed a conspiracy theory that Simon’s love for Melinda spurred Simon-haters to vote for the 2 others instead of Melinda. His addiction is getting serious, people.