This is probably the most beautifully sad video I've ever seen on YouTube:
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
If the Joker is evil because he embraces chaos, does being a control freak make me an angel?
Last Friday night was "Parents Night Out" at Sam's day care. For $20, they babysit the kids from 6:30 - 10:00pm, and dinner is included. They do this once a month and that's usually all the babysitting we need for a night out here and there. On Friday we decided to see a movie instead of going out to dinner, our usual outing. The Dark Knight was still playing at a nice theatre just 8 miles away and it started at 6:55pm - giving us just enough time to get there after dropping off Sam. We loved Batman Begins and really wanted to see this sequel in the theater, so we felt very lucky that it worked out so well.
It was raining that night so I worried about traffic delays, but getting there was no problem. I got the tickets while Adam parked, we raced in for popcorn and soda, and had just enough time to visit the restroom before the previews began. Perfect!
About an hour into the movie it occurred to me that those previews had gone on for quite a while, and movies tend to be so long now that we might be cutting it close for Sam's 10 o'clock pickup. I checked my watch - it was 8:05. I forgot about it.
By 8:45, I was thinking about it again. Why didn't we think to check the running time? I guess we figured 3 1/2 hours had to be plenty of time. It felt like the movie was about to end, but I'd been feeling that way every time the scene changed for the past 10 minutes. At 9:05, I whispered to Adam that we might have to leave before it was over. It was only a 15 minute drive, but we had never been to this theater before. Sometimes it takes 10 minutes just to get out of the parking lot at a busy, mall-based theater like this one. And I had to go to the bathroom. And it was raining. And it was Friday night. What would they do with Sam if we were late? I've actually had nightmares about forgetting to pick her up at day care, so I started to get anxious.
By 9:15 I was freaking out and I didn't process the end of the movie at all. It finally ended at 9:30. Some people applauded. I stood up so fast that I accidentally pulled a woman's hair by grabbing at the seat in front of me so that I could gain that fraction of a second. Adam gallantly indulged me and rushed to the car while I went to the ladies room. I was so stressed out that I criticized his driving the whole way back - I really thought the car was just going to slide right off the wet road.
We made it back with 5 minutes to spare. I can't say that I learned a lesson from this about chilling out. Maybe that is the right lesson, but what I've decided is that I will never go out to a movie again without checking the running time.
We're going to have to rent The Dark Knight on video as soon as it comes out so I can see the end. I think it might have been quite a good movie.
It was raining that night so I worried about traffic delays, but getting there was no problem. I got the tickets while Adam parked, we raced in for popcorn and soda, and had just enough time to visit the restroom before the previews began. Perfect!
About an hour into the movie it occurred to me that those previews had gone on for quite a while, and movies tend to be so long now that we might be cutting it close for Sam's 10 o'clock pickup. I checked my watch - it was 8:05. I forgot about it.
By 8:45, I was thinking about it again. Why didn't we think to check the running time? I guess we figured 3 1/2 hours had to be plenty of time. It felt like the movie was about to end, but I'd been feeling that way every time the scene changed for the past 10 minutes. At 9:05, I whispered to Adam that we might have to leave before it was over. It was only a 15 minute drive, but we had never been to this theater before. Sometimes it takes 10 minutes just to get out of the parking lot at a busy, mall-based theater like this one. And I had to go to the bathroom. And it was raining. And it was Friday night. What would they do with Sam if we were late? I've actually had nightmares about forgetting to pick her up at day care, so I started to get anxious.
By 9:15 I was freaking out and I didn't process the end of the movie at all. It finally ended at 9:30. Some people applauded. I stood up so fast that I accidentally pulled a woman's hair by grabbing at the seat in front of me so that I could gain that fraction of a second. Adam gallantly indulged me and rushed to the car while I went to the ladies room. I was so stressed out that I criticized his driving the whole way back - I really thought the car was just going to slide right off the wet road.
We made it back with 5 minutes to spare. I can't say that I learned a lesson from this about chilling out. Maybe that is the right lesson, but what I've decided is that I will never go out to a movie again without checking the running time.
We're going to have to rent The Dark Knight on video as soon as it comes out so I can see the end. I think it might have been quite a good movie.
Friday, September 26, 2008
A Little Thing
The way Samantha says "mine" when she means "yours" brings home to me how complex our language is, and how amazing it is that these little people learn it so easily.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Doing His Job
I love my dog. I take him for walks and he obeys. He plays with the cat. He is waiting for me in the car when I come out of the store. He sleeps under the bed and farts and groans and makes me laugh. But now that we have a toddler, he's actually earning his keep.
First of all, he's a vacuum cleaner. I'm not sure what people do about all the food under the high chair if they don't have a dog. I mean, you're not going to clean up under there 5 times a day, are you? I wouldn't. But Toby does. This skill alone pays for all of his pills and shots and vet visits.
Toby prompted Sam's first giggle when she was just a couple of months old. Adam came home and chased him around the house like he always does. Sam must have heard me laughing at this dozens of times, and one day, she joined in. This pays for the hell he put me through as a puppy.
Samantha is old enough to play fetch with him now, too. For some reason, this Labrador Retriever will not fetch for Adam or me, but he will for Sam. If we throw something he might bring it back once or twice but then he's done. For Sam, he'll fetch as long as she's interested. Maybe it's because she can only throw the ball a few feet and he figures it's worth the trip. Maybe he enjoys the way I clap and say, "yea!" in my cutsie voice when Sam is involved. Or maybe he finds her as adorable as I do when, after throwing the ball, she turns around and runs the other way, squealing with delight.
Whatever the reason, it's our favorite game right now. I get to lie on the couch and just watch them play. Toby usually brings the ball back to me, not to Sam, so I tell him, "drop it," and then hand it to her for the next throw. I'm trying to teach her to give him the "drop it" command, but she can't get the syllables straight. She is, however, getting the hang of giving him other commands. She can tell him to fetch, which she says very clearly. She also delights in telling him he is a "bad boy." But the best one is when she tells him to sit, which she pronounces, "shit."
Yep, that dog is in the black now.
First of all, he's a vacuum cleaner. I'm not sure what people do about all the food under the high chair if they don't have a dog. I mean, you're not going to clean up under there 5 times a day, are you? I wouldn't. But Toby does. This skill alone pays for all of his pills and shots and vet visits.
Toby prompted Sam's first giggle when she was just a couple of months old. Adam came home and chased him around the house like he always does. Sam must have heard me laughing at this dozens of times, and one day, she joined in. This pays for the hell he put me through as a puppy.
Samantha is old enough to play fetch with him now, too. For some reason, this Labrador Retriever will not fetch for Adam or me, but he will for Sam. If we throw something he might bring it back once or twice but then he's done. For Sam, he'll fetch as long as she's interested. Maybe it's because she can only throw the ball a few feet and he figures it's worth the trip. Maybe he enjoys the way I clap and say, "yea!" in my cutsie voice when Sam is involved. Or maybe he finds her as adorable as I do when, after throwing the ball, she turns around and runs the other way, squealing with delight.
Whatever the reason, it's our favorite game right now. I get to lie on the couch and just watch them play. Toby usually brings the ball back to me, not to Sam, so I tell him, "drop it," and then hand it to her for the next throw. I'm trying to teach her to give him the "drop it" command, but she can't get the syllables straight. She is, however, getting the hang of giving him other commands. She can tell him to fetch, which she says very clearly. She also delights in telling him he is a "bad boy." But the best one is when she tells him to sit, which she pronounces, "shit."Yep, that dog is in the black now.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Grown Up
An old friend contacted me through Facebook the other day. I worked with her in the mid-nineties when I was doing software development. She had a young daughter at the time and was a bit older than me. We weren't very close but I liked her, and she said one thing to me that I still think about quite often. When I was about to turn 30 and expressed some surprise that I could be so old, she told me that her thirties were a great decade and that I would love my thirties. She might have told me why, but I don't remember what she said. I just remember that I was surprised to hear that somebody was happier when they were older. Most people don't talk that way.
Since then, any time that I get that scary, I'm-getting-old feeling, I recall her words. I've always thought those people who pine for the good ol' days of high school or college were morons. They always seem to talk about how easy life was "back then," but they forget that they chose the additional responsibilities in order to gain values: marriage, kids, a house, a career. These things are values you have to work for, and bemoaning the effort is just childish. The effort is part of what makes these things values to begin with. Seeking the unearned is the most direct route to unhappiness.
I was pretty clear on how much better life was in my twenties than in my teens, but I didn't translate it to my thirties until my friend prompted me. Life really is better now, and there's no reason to think it won't get even better in my forties. The first thing my friend wrote to me on Facebook was, "So, like, you're a mom and married and all grown up." Yes, I am. Nice to be here.
Since then, any time that I get that scary, I'm-getting-old feeling, I recall her words. I've always thought those people who pine for the good ol' days of high school or college were morons. They always seem to talk about how easy life was "back then," but they forget that they chose the additional responsibilities in order to gain values: marriage, kids, a house, a career. These things are values you have to work for, and bemoaning the effort is just childish. The effort is part of what makes these things values to begin with. Seeking the unearned is the most direct route to unhappiness.
I was pretty clear on how much better life was in my twenties than in my teens, but I didn't translate it to my thirties until my friend prompted me. Life really is better now, and there's no reason to think it won't get even better in my forties. The first thing my friend wrote to me on Facebook was, "So, like, you're a mom and married and all grown up." Yes, I am. Nice to be here.
A Little Thing
I don't care what it says about me as a mother - I find it adorable that Samantha says "french fries" every time we go to the drive-through pharmacy.
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