Things I’ve gotten good at since I growed up

So, I was thinking the other day about my life and it’s ominous lack of achievements.  I’m nearly 28 for Christ’s sake (that’s right.  I age for no one but for the love of the Lamb… hah) and what exactly do I have to show for it besides a creative writing award given to me in high school and 2 kids.  Ok, so the kids are pretty great but it can be easy to get kids.  Grow ’em, adopt ’em, steal ’em, inherit ’em… there are many ways to get your grubby mitts on kids and unless you have seriously jumped through hoops to get your kids (Infertility, of course, is not anything to laugh at so if you have dealt with infertility and have successfully had a child or adopted, you certainly have accomplished something. That’s hard shit, so, you are definitely ahead of the parenting class. Stealing them would also probably take SOME kind of skill therefore be considered an accomplishment, I guess) it doesn’t really get you a gold star in the good noodle book.  Not in MY good noodle book anyway.

I was trying to make myself feel better and came up with a few things that I have become quite good at since graduating high school and I’m going to share them with you.  I know there are probably some people out there that might find this helpful.  Suicidal stay at home moms like me, for instance.  So… you crazy, “I’m-a-gonna-kill-myself” ladies… this one’s for you…

 Loading the dishwasher to maximum capacity.
In this neo-eco friendly world developing around us, I try to conserve water whenever I can and my greatest contribution to this is being able to load so many dishes into the dishwasher before I permit myself to turn it on it’s nearly obscene.  It’s a “Fiesta-ware” orgy in there… everything all sardined and difficult to extract once the cycle is over.  Makes me get a little misty eyed just thinking about my talent.  Nearly nothing makes me as irate as when I open a load of clean dishes (that I didn’t start, mind you) and find, for example, 4 glasses in the top rack and 3 plates and a fork on the bottom all hot and sparkly clean.  In my opinion, if everything comes out perfectly clean you didn’t cram enough in there.  There should be enough room for 1/2 a cup of water… tops.  Granted, sometimes I get pissed at myself because there is room in there for one measly cup yet I don’t start it up only to end up with a sink full of dirty dishes all vying for that one spot in the dishwasher… so I have to hold auditions to find the one most worthy for the space and then the rest must wait until the next load.

This little skill, regardless of the OCD-ness of it, will get a gold star.  No one can fit more crap in a small space than me… just look at my house, for Christ’s sake (Christ would want you to look).

 Eating large quantities of strange foods.


I just got finished polishing off a cup of strawberry yogurt followed by 2 pumpkin pancakes (they were small-ish, I swear) and rounded out with 3 fish strips (like fish sticks, only bigger-ish).  I don’t know anyone else that can go out to a restaurant and have seven plates surrounding her because she won’t let the waitress take them away.  I don’t know what I’ll want to eat when!  I have my bread plate (I might want some later), and I keep my salad plate (I might want some salad with my entree later) and then a plate that I use to collect food from my dining mates (I like to sample other people’s food… just not all at once), and of course my meal plate, my daughter’s meal plate that she has eaten a fourth of and I will continue to pick from throughout the remainder of the meal and then when I get my dessert, I STILL keep all my plates because I will tire of eating ONLY dessert and will eat a fork-full of mac-n-cheese between bites of fatty fatty fudge supreme cake.  And since that is only 6 plates and I have promised 7, I am counting my drink glass that needs to be filled at least 2 times with the diet soda the waitress supplies.  I am so good at eating I constantly profess my dreams of becoming a competitive eater.  They expect THOSE people to be fat.

Therefore, since I am not afraid of variety, I get a gold star.  I promise not to put it in my mouth… The last one tasted like glue.

 Disguising my farts with other sounds.
I’ve had a cold the past few weeks and unbeknownst to my housemates, I believe I have let out a fart with at least 85% of every cough I have made.  No one has said anything so I guess I either cough pretty loudly or fart rather quietly.

Besides the cough/fart thing, I have developed the most gassy shoes/chairs/ drinking glasses that world has ever seen.  So either Hank is incredibly gullible, incredibly hard of hearing or incredibly tolerant of female flatulence.  That, or I’m really good at disguising my farts.  I get a gold star.  Hank is none of those things.  Yay for me!

  I’m really good at doing things with my feet.


I’ve always been able to pick up things with my feet but since I’ve had my son I’ve become even BETTER at it!  I corral the crawling baby with my feet so I don’t have to bend over (no, it’s not kicking the baby unless he cries about it).  I can hold Roman and tickle him with my hands and tickle Maddie to gasping teriffic-ness with my feet.  I pick up the living room with my amazing toe dexterity… it’s a wonderful talent.  Who fucking needs a college degree, anyway!

The other day I asked Hank if he would still love me if I didn’t have arms.  He said yes until I started caressing his face with my unwashed, peasant feet (actually, foot, since had it been feet I would have fallen down).  His disgusted expression when I tried to shove my big toe into his mouth made me stomp off in an armless pout (I had my arms bent behind my back for visual emphasis) and spend the next 10 minutes in the kitchen (I just farted and you didn’t even hear it… haha) trying to pick up a bendy straw with my toes and put it into the trash can.  Then I spent the next 10 minutes trying to avoid Hank’s bear hugs and “I’ll love you no matter what” kisses without using my arms.  So maybe I’d lose at a wrestling match using only my feet… I’d lose probably if I COULD use my arms.  If I could head-butt, I might have a chance though.  All that crap aside, I DID get that straw into the trash AND I can pick up things as small as raisins but no larger/heavier than a Guitar hero controller (it’s the biggest thing I have gotten thus far).  You could say I’m a “Good-toe hero”!  haha!  Fucking hilarious!  I get 2 stars for this one because I’m also amazing at puns.

  I am good at pretending to be your cheerleader.


So I’m fake… so what?  You really want to know that I DON’T think it’s ok you left your children at home alone to go drink a few at the bar?  Just because you don’t think little 3 year old Jimmy can’t reach your matchbook collection doesn’t mean he won’t.  But I’ll still tell you to chill!  You did the right thing!  You need a break sometimes too and since children’s services didn’t find out, no harm, no foul, right??  Yeah… I lied… you suck.  And HEY!  Don’t worry that you haven’t paid me the money you owe me!  It’ll all come out in the wash, right?  No, bitch… it won’t come out in the wash.  I’ll tell you on the phone that it’s no big thang!  We’s friends!  But I see you on the street, you gimmie my money or I breaka you legs.  I love you… and even though you fucked up, I’ll never let you think that I THINK that.  You’ll hear the gossip eventually.  Gold star for me!!!!  (I farted again… you have no idea how bad it smells).

Well, I’m tired of making up things that I’m good at.  I know I’m 27.666 years old and I have no degree, no taxable income and spend nearly every day in this house, rearing children and picking up things with my feet but I’m ok with that.  I’m good at plenty of stuff I haven’t mentioned like loving folks, getting over things that hurt me, being fiercely loyal (seriously… if you haven’t already, get on my good side), dwelling on things and contradicting myself.  I hope I have lots of time to do things with my life that will earn me status and fortune but until then I’ll give myself pointless pep talks about inane things I am “good” at and doing the whole “loving my life” thing.  I mean, even though I have all these gold stars, I’m going to have to get a job again someday and when I do, these skills will come in very handy… right???

4/3/2008 9:32:00 PM


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