Absolutely Bananas: Seattle stay-at-home mom blog

If you drop a spider off a high building are you killing it or just setting it free?

Spiders seem to be taking over, spreading their webs across every surface and corner of our yard.  Every time I turn around I’m flailing to escape their thin, sticky threads.

So it isn’t a surprise when CJ announces, “Mommy, mommy I found a spider in the house!”

I should tell you that I’m not afraid of spiders.  They’re little and we’re big and WHAT is there to be afraid of, logically?  At the same time I wouldn’t say that I’m exactly a fan.

Efficiency is my primary objective as I pull off a piece of paper towel and advance on the unsuspecting spider.

Make a web in my house, will you? 

CJ’s eyes widen as he watches me. He sees my diabolical plan written out in the whites of my eyes. ”Mommy?  You’re going to SQUISH the spider and throw it in the garbage?”

“Well, ok.  Yeah,” he continues, “We can THROW it in the GARBAGE.”

I pause.

This is not the message that I’ve worked so carefully to communicate. 

In fact, just a few days ago I distinctly remember shouting something about DON’T SQUISH THAT BUG BECAUSE IT HAS FEELINGS AND MAYBE EVEN A FAMILY!

And here I am, wreaking deadly violence on this small unsuspecting critter.

I need to take a different approach.

I sigh. “No, I’m not going to squish it or throw it away,” I tell CJ. 

Carefully I hold the paper towel underneath the spider so that his legs catch on it.  I carry it outside and fling the arachnid interloper across the railing and off our deck.  He’s airborne for a moment, before plummeting to the earth below.

I wonder if that spider will die from falling so far, I find myself wondering.  Can’t it use it’s thread, spiderman-style, to catch a nearby plant and soften its landing?  Or will it smash into the hard concrete and die an instant death?

What do you think?

(deep thoughts here at the Bananas house)

***
If you’re looking for the Weekly Writing prompt, I’ve decided to take this week off from that.  Because I couldn’t think of anything and I didn’t feel like it and it’s the last week before school starts and because I can.  But never fear, the next one will be a goody… a THEME for the entire month of September.  Cheerio!

Bananas’ 1st and 2nd Laws of Nature

Newton’s Law: A body at rest will remain at rest and a body in motion will continue in motion at a constant speed in a straight line unless acted upon by some outside force

Kepler’s Law: The orbits of the planets are ellipses, with the Sun at one focus of the ellipse.

Murphy’s Law: If anything can go wrong, it will.

Bananas’ Law: If you pay $300 for tickets to see Mark Knopfler in concert at a very fabulous outdoor venue, it will rain.  It will definitely rain.

***

“Look over there!” I point into the distance where the sky is grey and foreboding.  “Do you think it’s gonna rain?  I didn’t bring any rain coats or anything.”

A bolt of lightning lights up the sky.

“No, it’s not gonna rain.” Jay says with confidence.

I shrug. 

We’ll see.

***

“I felt a raindrop!” I hold out my hand, “There! That was another one.  I think you need to go buy those ponchos.”

We’ve discovered that Chateau Ste. Michelle sells ponchos. 

Smart, very smart.

Jay shakes his head, “Nah, it’s not gonna rain.”

“Jay!  It’s GOING to rain!  Look at the sky!”

Jay looks up at the clouds which swirl above us all dark and menacing.

KABAMM!  Thunder crashes.

The sky is growling at us.

The air feels heavy and dense.  Hot.  Sticky.

“There!  Another one!  Do you feel it?”  I wipe a droplet of water off of my cheek and shift in my seat.  “All I’m saying is once it really starts there’s gonna be a mad dash for the ponchos.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Jay gets up and starts making his way across the grass towards the poncho booth.  People around us are pulling out umbrellas and raincoats.

I turn around and say to the couple behind me.  “I should’ve known that it would rain.  It was inevitable, the minute I bought those overpriced tickets.”

They didn’t buy tickets at 150% markup from an online scalper.  They signed up for the Mark Knopfler fan club, and got to buy their tickets BEFORE they were available to the general public.  Plus they got a free CD.

Hmmph.

***

Five minutes later we are huddled under bright blue plastic ponchos as water pours from the sky.

Lightning flashes.

Thunder crashes.

My poncho is stuck to my skin.

Jay looks glum.

Hopefully the music will start soon.

“Aw, come on Jay,” I say, “It’s not THAT bad.  At least we have these handy ponchos!”

He grunts.

“It’s sort of like an adventure,” I add.

Jay isn’t buying.

***

Mark Knopfler and his band enter the stage.  The lights flash.  The lightning streaks across the sky.  And the rain stops.

We tentatively emerge from our sticky plastic, sniff the freshly cleaned air and blink at the evening light as the music of Mark Knopfler surrounds us.

Can it be true?  Did the rain stop?  Really?

The music is amazing.

The show is brilliant.

And the rain goes away.

Best. Concert. Ever.

Bananas’ Second Law: A body at rest will remain at rest and a body in motion will continue in motion and IF IT RAINS at your favorite band’s concert, don’t despair. Just get in motion and get a poncho and who knows, maybe it will pass.

Do as I say, not as I do. And STOP watching me!

I’ve just finished making CJ a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I dip my spoon in the peanut butter to sneak a mouthful.

Mmmm… creamy dreamy goodness.

Peanut butter straight from the jar is totally my weakness.

What I don’t realize (until it’s too late) is that CJ is watching me.

His eyes pop open as a whole new world of infinite possibilities flash before them.

If mommy can eat peanut butter straight from the jar… just THINK what else you can do!

This is not good.

***
Don’t forget about Hot Mamas Know tomorrow! Also I have a post about Turning one-time visitors into repeat readers up at Seattle Mom Blogs.

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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.

In which the bike gets it

On Sunday CJ announces that he is ready to take the training wheels off his bike.

Sure he is ready… but what about ME?

It seems that my opinion doesn’t count. Jay takes the training wheels off, and we head to our local school for CJ’s first lesson.

Amazingly enough CJ survives. His bike, on the other hand, takes quite a beating.

Warning: This video contains violence that may be unsuitable for not really anyone. A bike was harmed in the making of this movie (but it deserved it).

(click here to see the video if you’re reading this in email or RSS)

Jay says that CJ has two things working against him in his quest for training-wheel-free ridership.

First, he doesn’t want help.

Second, he doesn’t want to have to learn.

(sounds a lot like his mother, to be honest)

Still, within the hour he is riding like a pro. Or at least like a boy who has just learned to ride his bike.

He’s growing up.

And I’ve got a stomachache.

Oh and by the way, I’m writing up a series of posts on Essential Advice for New Bloggers over at Seattle Mom Blogs. So far I’ve talked about picking the right name for your blog and why looks matter and what to do about it. Come on over and join the conversation!

***
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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.

Mamma said there’ll be days like this

My body hates spring. I sneeze and snort and wheeze and cough and my eyes turn into itchy, scratchy balls of irritation. I storm around the house doing my worst to ensure that EVERYONE shares my misery.

Then yesterday I noticed this little BUMP had formed on my left eyeball.

No matter how I googled it, an eyeball bump wasn’t sounding good, so I made an appointment to see my eye doctor.

This morning I go in for the appointment. But before I can see the DOCTOR, I have to get by the NURSE.

She takes me into a little room where we’re sitting on opposite sides of a table. Then she says, “Ok, let me have a look.”

She leans forward and peers at me from across the table.

“Where is it again?”

“My left eye. Just… there.” I point at the offending spot.

She squints and wrinkles her nose. I can tell she sees nothing. I’m not even sure if she sees my EYE.

“I’m not seeing anything…”

I try to open my eye wider. I feel… stupid.

“Is it on your eyeLID?” she asks.

“No, my eyeball. Just there, outside the colored area. It’s a little spot… sort of yellow in the middle…”

“Hmmm… still not seeing anything. Let me come closer.” She stands up and moves around the table so we are nose-to-nose.

I hold my breath. If she doesn’t see it now I’m not sure what I’ll do… because it’s definitely there. At least it was fifteen minutes ago when I checked it in the rear-view mirror.

“Is it on the eyeLID?”

“No, The eyeball. On the white part.”

“Oh, the white part. You mean outside the pupil?”

“Yes! The pupil! Just outside the pupil!” (so that’s what the stupid thing is called)

“I see it!”

I heave a big sigh of relief. “Whew! I’m not crazy after all! I mean, of course I’m crazy, but not in THAT way. You know.”

At last we have established that there IS IN FACT A BUMP. I answer a kabillion questions and she passes me through to see the doctor. He squirt things in my eye and peers at it through various contraptions. Then he steps back, turns on the light, and announces,

“You have a pinguecula.”

“A pinguecu-HUH?”

“A pinguecula. It’s where your eyeball builds up tissue to protect itself from an irritant. In this case it’s probably allergy induced… and it may or may not go away.”

I request that the doctor write out “PINGUECULA” on a sticky note because there is no way I am going to remember that. And that is something I need to remember.

Next he tells me that I have a condition called ALLERGY-INDUCED CONJUNCTIVITIS.

Which is basically pink eye without the contagious.

Or, as I like to call it, junk-in-yer-eye-tis,

or if-this-blasted-itching-doesn’t-stop-I’m-gonna-use-an-ice-pick-on-my-eye-tis.

Now you may be thinking that these dire prognosis are BAD NEWS INDEED. But the fact is, every time I go to the doctor I have a sneaking feeling that they will declare me to be FIT and SOUND and HEALTHY AS A DEER and then I’ll feel like a moron for wasting their time.

So I am relieved and overjoyed to have something wrong with me. Officially.

I call Jay on my cell phone as I exit the building. “I have a pinguecula!” I shout when he answers, checking my sticky note to make sure I’m saying it right, “Also, I have ALLERGY-INDUCED CONJUCTIVITIS. It needs a prescription.“

If he thinks it odd that I am so upbeat, he doesn’t say so.

***
Oh, you thought that was all?

THAT IS NOT ALL!

So I go about my day (I’m not the type of girl to let a little old pinguecula stop me) when I get a call from Jay. I can tell immediately that something is wrong.

“I need you to come pick me up,” he says, “I’m throwing-up sick and I don’t think I can manage the bus.”

So I whip my car around and point it towards downtown. Only, for some odd reason, HALF OF SEATTLE has also decided to journey in that direction at three o’clock in the afternoon, and I5 is gridlocked. CJ and I sit and sit until finally we arrive.

Jay stumbles into the car. His face is white except for where it’s green. He does NOT look good.

All the morons in the city of Seattle are in front of me and next to me and crossing against lights and riding bikes around me. It’s a wonder we make it home at all. As it is it takes us three times as long as it SHOULD.

I peel into the driveway and Jay dashes inside to puke in the toilet. The PLUGGED toilet. I was going to unplug it only plugged toilets are gross and also I couldn’t find the plunger.

Ok so I won’t go on and on and ON although I could and I have to admit I’m TEMPTED.

Suffice it to say that dear Jay is very, horribly ill.

Our house smells vaguely of vomit.

And I had to cancel my plans to go see the opening night of Mamma Mia with Kathryn, Eve, and Isabel. An evening that I was REALLY looking forward to.

Also, did I mention the pinguecula?

***
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©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.