Category — Friday Blog Roundup

If you follow me on Twitter, you already partially know my tale of bravery this week at the legs of a cricket (I was going to say at the hands of a cricket, but then realized that crickets probably don’t have hands).  For those who don’t follow me, sit back for the story of how Melissa battled the largest cricket in the world.

It was late at night on Tuesday, and I had just finished reading a new post by Somewhat Ordinary when I went in the kitchen and caught something move out of the corner of my eye.  The thing jumped again, and oh my fucking Lord, it was a cricket that was easily the size of the oven.

Josh wasn’t home, and my first instinct was to run upstairs (as well as curse him).  But then I wouldn’t know where the cricket went, and I’ve got to be honest, I wouldn’t probably go back downstairs again until the thing was caught.  As in, I would have spent Wednesday in my room.

My second instinct was to call Lindsay or Calliope to come and get it, but I knew they would skin me alive for calling so late and I wouldn’t be able to handle the wait until they arrived.  My third instinct was to channel Somewhat Ordinary, who is this kickass brave woman who can kill crickets.  I went with this plan to go at it with the Dyson.  All of those thoughts happened in the course of about three seconds.

I plugged in the vacuum and stretched out the wand, and screaming like a Celtic warrior (sans the nakedness and blue woad paint), I started pointing it at the cricket while it jumped around manically, frightened no doubt by my continuous rebel yell as well as the fact that extreme suction was coming close to its body.  It jumped under the sideboard, and as I waved the wand underneath (yes, still emitting a continuous shriek), a miracle happened and the cricket paused from moving long enough to be sucked into the Dyson where it spun until unconsciousness.

Even Josh was impressed with its size when he got home and emptied the Dyson for me.  I felt like such a fucking warrior.  The last time I had that type of high over my prowess, I had a needle of Follistim going into my belly.

*******

Someone asked me this week when I was going to pop out another child and  “come on, you have to get on with this and have another!”  She was rewarded with me bursting into tears.  Serves her right for poking.

*******

Back to the cricket: Josh and I have been debating whether or not a cricket that was not dead could live in the toilet and jump back out at you when you sat down to pee.  I wasn’t concerned over my cricket because mine was clearly in a state of rigor mortis with its enormous legs splayed around him.  But it was a hypothetical question about placing a live cricket in a toilet.

Josh insisted that because crickets cannot swim, it would drown.  I insisted that crickets are crafty and it would be entirely within the realm of possibility to have it hide in the pipes until a little girl like me sat down and then it would HOP ONTO MY ASS.

I based this on the fact that there are at least 300 cases of small children who had their bums bitten off by alligators that came through their toilets.  Isn’t that true?  Aren’t there dozens of children who lose their asses every year to alligator-in-the-toilet incidents?

*******

The Weekly What If: If you had to be born the conjoined twin of someone famous (real or fictional), who would it be and why?

*******

And now, the blogs…

The video that Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere Storkey, Storkey posted on her blog made Josh and I laugh so hard that Doritos almost came out my nose.

Tales of Rachel has a post about the friends who got away.  I think I was drawn to this post because we had a week where we got together with Josh’s oldest friend and our kids played together like little yentas, which was followed by Josh attending the funeral for a friend’s father.  He came home quietly pointing out that they had been friends as kids and then they went through first jobs and marriage and infertility and kids and now, they are burying a parent.  And it was just this emotional scope of events.  And then Rachel writes this kickass post about the people we want to stay close to but life gets in the way.  She explains, “I wish I could return to knowing beyond a passing moment on a social networking site.”  Isn’t that how it is?

Moving onto more emotional posts, Serenity wrote about what made her push forward in giving O a sibling.  It’s a sad turn of events that brought her to this realization, but it’s also the energy fueling what will be a difficult process.  She writes, “And how much I want that for O. I shudder when I think of a situation like Thursday’s, except with ME. My cousin at least had his brothers to rely on as they waited for my uncle to get home.”

Lastly, Shorty’s Adventure has a post about her recent loss.  I cried with the end of her post: “My heart and soul, buried in this globby mess I was about the flush down the toilet.  I started at it, I was already on the morphine, and all I could do was stare at it.  I even said goodbye as I threw it away.  I am supposed to somehow go on, but how do you go on, with no heart or soul.”  I think anyone who has had to flush one of those globby messes down the toilet understands how it feels to lose your heart and soul.  And I can’t explain how you go on, but somehow, you do go on.

The roundup to the Roundup: I took on the cricket from Hell.  Thanks for asking when I’m going to have another kid.  Do alligators live in toilets?  Answer the Weekly What If about your preferred conjoined twin.  And lots of great posts to read.  Hope those who celebrated Thanksgiving had a wonderful day.

As I said last week, I started running again in the morning, and my body is finally getting accustomed to waking up at 6 am and shlepping downstairs to workout.  I’ve purchased a nice, new, BPA-free camelbak water bottle as a reward.

I didn’t weigh myself for a week, wanting to see that big loss rather than the few measly ounces I might see in a day.  After 6 days of hauling my ass downstairs to run (okay, and after a short trip to Hershey), it turned out that I HAD GAINED 1.3 POUNDS.  Yes, gained.  As in not only did I not lose weight with my sleep sacrifice, but I actually gained weight.

I almost torched that princess castle on Wuhu Island in my rage.

So I’ve upp’ed the workout and cut out all the lovely treats we have in the house.

Being a grown-up is hard.

*******

We have been playing around with the idea of getting a pet — most likely a hamster.  Part of me thinks it’s a terrible idea: I don’t need another thing to take care of that isn’t a human baby.  It will be one more headache to deal with when we travel.  I’ll have to buy it food and clean its cage and … did I mention that it would become one more thing?

And part of me thinks it’s a terrific idea: that animals teach compassion and responsibility to kids.  That having a pet is an integral part of growing up.  And perhaps the most important point — they’ll never be able to come up with a porn star name if they don’t have a first pet.

A hamster fits our space constrictions and is furry and cute.  But yesterday, the twins informed me that they now want a guinea pig (which wouldn’t fit in the space I’ve allotted for a pet’s cage) named Andrew Sparkles*.  They told me they wanted a name that no one in their class had so they wouldn’t hear the teacher say the shared name and spend class time daydreaming about their pet.  Fair enough.

But Andrew is the name of my ex-bi-boyfriend who broke up with me when he realized that he wasn’t actually attracted to women.  How am I supposed to procrastinate from doing work by talking to our pet if he shares a first name with my ex-boyfriend?  And Sparkles?  How can I forget my Andrew’s disco-ball-like shirt with an unfortunately-paired name like that?

When I explained that I couldn’t have a pet named after my ex-boyfriend, they informed me that this name was already a done deal.  It was not up for discussion.  Josh has been amusing himself by making up terrible pet names out of all the names of our ex’s paired with a noun from the reason we broke up.  It’s a fun game — try it.

*******

Instead of the Weekly What If: Take the first name of a past boyfriend, girlfriend, friend, or frenemy, pair it with an unfortunately accurate noun or adjective that ties into the reason you’re no longer with this person, and create your worst-pet-name.

*******

And now, the blogs…

I love love love this post by Edenland about speaking at a conference about blogging.  She writes, “I told my blogging story. My big, fat, messy, wonderful, terrible blogging story. That story is all mine … all of the ups and downs and joy and mire that I put in here. I am the expert on it, so I spoke much more freely … (and openly!) … than I had originally intended.”  I love posts like this, just as much as I love blogging itself.

In a similar vein, Love, Hope and Faith has a post about her 500th post.  She asks for an uncreated word: “What is the word for things that happen on the inside of you? For things that cause you to feel more emotions and intensity than you ever have before?”  I’ll admit that I cried when she said that her friendships have grown as her boy has grown.  And what a long, strange trip it’s been.

Once a Mother has a post about the hour-long disc they have of their daughter’s life.  They watched it once, right after she died, and they haven’t watched it again.  She writes so achingly: “The videos ended. The nightmare continued.”  She asks: “Can one simultaneously live and grieve?”  It is such an amazing and moving post; you need to read it in full.

Lastly, Mrs Spock has a post (amongst other things) about finding a connection with the coach’s sister at a dinner.  There is a pause after a question is asked that she recognizes, that hesitation that speaks volumes.  In their conversation, another woman adds her experience with loss, and it brings to the forefront this quiet sisterhood.

The roundup to the Roundup: I can’t believe I gained weight this week. Andrew Sparkles, our future pet.  What would be your ill-named pet?  And lots of great blogs to read.

*Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent as well as future pets.

I’ll admit that the wishes made me weepy.  And that while I made my wish on something for myself, I also wish that everyone else’s wishes come true.

*******

I started running again this week which has made me stupid tired.  You know that kind of tired where you have to reread every sentence several times because you can’t remember the first part of the line by the time you get to the second independent clause?  By which I mean please excuse any typo-s in this post.

I was so worried to oversleep and miss my first day running that I woke up four times in the middle of the night to look at the clock.  And finally, at the godawful hour of 6 am, I trekked down to the basement to run indoors. (Please, I wouldn’t walk outside to the mailbox at this hour in my neighbourhood much less take a leisurely jog.)

And there was a cricket.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a cricket, but it could have been an emaciated, red cricket.  So I ran upstairs and woke up Josh and told him about the cricket as if the house were on fire and he came downstairs and saved me.

And then I went running.

And discovered that I had gained four pounds in the five month interim between running routines.  I have felt the extra weight and it has made me miserable, so I decided to do something about it.  In addition, I went on a walk with the twins this week, and in the middle of the walk, I started having chest pains.  By which I should clarify that it was probably indigestion, but I started thinking about heart attacks and properly freaked myself out.  So, yes, running again.

On Wuhu Island.

Which is why, if I’m a little slow on the uptake for the next few days, you’ll understand that it is the fact that I’m still trying to make it work where I can watch Colbert and wake up at 6 am.

Like I said, stupid tired, emphasis on the word stupid.

*******

I got to meet up with a bunch of bloggers while in Boston last weekend.  Which rocked.  On Friday night, I had dinner with I Won’t Fear Love; Henry Street; Ultimate Journey; and Slaying, Blogging, Whatever.  So first, I got to eat dinner with these funny, sassy, smart women.  I seriously had no idea how much time had passed, but we were down there in the empty restaurant for more than three hours.

Then, on Saturday morning, I got to meet Keiko and her husband at the conference.  She is just as organized and smart and funny as you’d expect her to be from her blog.

And then, perhaps the creme de la creme moment, I was sitting at this table and I looked up and a few feet away was Natalie.  Which was 20 kinds of emotional and I feel so lucky that I got to hug her in person.  I wasn’t expecting to see her, so it was amazing to look up and see here there.

(This is me looking stunned)

Plus, the conference itself was amazing.  New England Resolve is so organized, and their executive director, Rebecca Lubens, who was heading the conference is this erudite, kickass woman who brought together a conference combining information with support.  The conference was like finding test answers inside a chocolate bar.

That last line made perfect sense to me with my lack of sleep.

*******

Instead of the Weekly What If: tell me which bloggers you’ve met this year (in 2010).  Or which bloggers you want to meet in 2011.

*******

And now, the blogs…

An Unwanted Path has a bleakly honest post about how she now doesn’t wish for a pregnancy insomuch as she wishes to not have another loss.  I love this thought: “But … I guess I’m grasping here. But, not getting pregnant could be a blessing in disguise. And maybe, just maybe, it means something. Or it could just be another sad mind-fuck on the path of infertility.”  It’s a brief, beautiful, sad read.

From IF to When has a post about what fertile women don’t know.  It’s a post that works best with the least amount of description.  It is something you need to read; to experience.

I Spy a Family has a series of posts for National Adoption Awareness Month and her post on fear was particularly well-written.  I especially love the last line: “If I haven’t done that, I would’ve missed out on the chance to parent the two people I love most in this world.”

Lastly, in a heartbreaking week, Hold My Hope has a post about needing a diet for the soul rather than the body.  She explains that she knows how to manipulate her body, train it, lose weight, gain weight.  What she can’t do is exercise that control over her emotional cravings.  I thought the analogy and the question was simply brilliant, and I wish I had a good answer to give.

The roundup to the Roundup: damn, running makes me tired. I got to meet a bunch of fantabulous bloggers.  Who have you met/who do you want to meet? And lots of great blogs to read.

The Creme de la Creme opened this week, and it’s already trucking along with 65 participants in the first 4 days.  And hopefully, a lot of people (hint, hint) will take the weekend (hint, hint) to look through their archives and choose their favourite post from 2010.

*******

I will probably not update the IComLeavWe list between this morning and Sunday night because I’ll be busy with the Resolve conference.  Rest assured, if you add yourself to it between now and then, you will be uploaded the next time I sit down at the computer.  You don’t need to sign up again.  In fact, please don’t sign up again.  It causes all sorts of problems with updating the list when there are duplicates.

*******

I am in a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad mood.  And it is making all food taste horrible.  Have you ever had that happen?  Where everything just seems disgusting all of a sudden based on your mood?  Which, did I mention, is absolutely foul?

*******

The Weekly What If: Think of your least favourite food.  Now what if you were promised that eating 4 ounces of this food daily would put you always in a good mood.  Not that bad things wouldn’t happen to you, but you’d be able to approach them with this great frame of mind.  And when things were the status quo, you’d feel exceptionally cheerful.  The catch is that you need to keep it up every day to have this effect.  So would you eat your daily 4 ounces, and what is your least favourite food?

*******

And now, the blogs…

Mutemockingbird’s Blog has a post about jealousy as well as what she does to cover up her overwhelming feelings of jealousy.  And how those actions have now backfired terribly.  In the vein of “no good deed goes unpunished,” poor Mutemockingbird is now drowning in baby reminders.

The Inadequate Conception has a wistful post about Halloween.  She writes, “I know that behind the scenes not all of these families were leading the charmed lives that appeared in that two-hour moment at the Halloween festival, but it sure looked nice. And, we were a little jealous.”  I loved how she caught that moment — that even if it wasn’t perfect behind the scenes, the moment she was observing “sure looked nice.”

Yolk has a post about distractions.  She explains, “These days all those things: exercise, my job, my hobbies, etc. all just serve as distractions to fill time while I wait for the only thing that matters to me anymore.”  Go cheer her on as she explains the two distractions that are keeping her going at the moment.

Find Joy Now describes how it feels to be part of two different worlds.  She doesn’t want to hurt the readers who have stuck by her by talking incessantly about her child, but she also doesn’t really relate to other parents.  That isn’t the part that struck me though.  It was this: “This was what I was ultimately working towards.  This was something I could control.  I couldn’t control when a baby would come, I couldn’t force myself to become pregnant, and I certainly couldn’t force a birth mother of father to choose me to parent his or her child.  I could only control my outlook on life and my attitude.”  It’s sort of one of those times where you come to read about the situation, but you walk away thinking about how you approach life.

Lastly, Relaxing Doesn’t Make Babies has her take on Halloween through the lens of loss.  She explains, “Graves and ghosts and horror all take on a different meaning when you have lived through a horror story, when a grave marks the body of your child. I pass houses that have fake graveyards in front of their house and I frown. Not that I think it is wrong that they do that, but I see it from a different perspective now.”  Please go over and read the whole post — it will change the way you look at the world.

The roundup to the Roundup: The Creme de la Creme is now open.  I won’t be on the computer much this weekend.  I’m in a horrible mood.  Answer the Weekly What If.  And lots of great posts to read.

It will be so nice to have all of you with me at the rally (at least in spirit) on Saturday.  You can still add your name to the sign (it’s a pretty big piece of orange poster board) until tonight around 9 pm.  Then I need to finish it off and make sure it’s dry before we head down in the morning.  Will post pictures and stories on Saturday night.

*******

The Weekly What If: Even though this isn’t possible, if the elections next Tuesday came down to a single vote and YOU cast the final vote deciding the election (a la Swing Vote), would you want people to know this weekend that you have the deciding vote?  How about after the vote has been cast?  Or would you rather it remain a secret?

*******

The Creme de la Creme is coming, the Creme de la Creme is coming (like the Redcoats, but less violent).

The Creme de la Creme list will open on Monday.  Tuesday at the latest.  I’m giving you this heads up because some people want to be towards the top of the list.  So … take the weekend to read through your archives, pick a few favourites, ask readers to vote if you can’t narrow it down by yourself, and get ready to get your Creme on.

*******

The ChickieNob’s teacher asked to speak with me after school.  She told the children that since they were going on a field trip, they needed to bring their lunch in a brown paper bag.  The ChickieNob disagreed.

“Paper bags are bad for the environment,” she chirped, repeating one of the numerous lectures we make them sit through at the aquarium or zoo.  “I am going to bring my lunch box.”

“You can’t bring your lunch box,” her teacher explained.  “We aren’t bringing back the lunches from this trip.  The bag that we use to take down the lunches will turn into the garbage bag after lunch.”

“I have a perfect plan,” the ChickieNob informed us.  “I will bring my lunchbox inside a brown paper bag and then I will reuse the brown paper bag later.”

This went on for a bit and the ChickieNob was finally convinced that sometimes other factors trump being a good environmentalist, such as a teacher needing a system to smoothly cart 50 students on a field trip.  Sometimes, we just have to use something disposable and chalk it up to life getting in the way of our best laid plans (talk about environmentalist guilt).

I came on the field trip and sat across from the ChickieNob as she opened her brown paper lunch bag, which is why I got to hear the kindergartener mutter to herself: “my teacher, apparently, thinks it’s okay to use disposable bags.  When I know that it’s not.  But I’m using one and I’m going to throw it away.”

And the sighing.  For the love, the sighing.

The aquarium should be proud of how well she has internalized “Our Ocean Planet.”

*******

And now, the blogs…

Seriously, have you read anything funnier than Julie’s take on Facebook on A Little Pregnant?  I would say more than that, but I’m too busy reading about David Silver’s relationship with crystal meth.

On the other end of the spectrum — the way other side of the spectrum — Kir’s Corner has a moving post about losing her father.  But beyond that, it is a stunning tribute to her father and even if you never met him, you’ll walk away feeling as if you just spent time with him.

BigP and Me has a very honest, very moving post about her unique fears in having another child.  And frankly, that honesty is very very powerful.  Which is why I left the post thinking that her fears couldn’t come true because someone who is intuitive enough to have those fears would do everything in her power to not repeat the cycle.  It’s the opposite of denial.

Lastly, Dreams Recovered has a post about a pair of red shoes that make her happy.  I don’t know why — especially since they’re not my red shoes — but I kept smiling while reading it.  I love this thought: “I looked down at them today and I kinda feel bad about the shoes.  They never match the clothes I wear and I can just imagine what other people think when they see me in these crazy red shoes.  I was thinking maybe I should retire the shoes, but I stuck my feet in them again today and said, maybe not.”  Go read and tell her what inanimate object sums up who you are.

The roundup to the Roundup: Last chance to get on the rally sign.  Answer the Weekly What If.  Creme de la Creme is starting up next week.  The ChickieNob saves the environment.  And lots of great posts to read.