February 27, 2008
I am utterly shameless when it comes to goofball tactics. I am also fully at peace with my potential future as the world’s most embarrassing mother [considering the fact that I am nowhere near childbearing, as far as I can tell, this is perhaps a farsighted goal].
So today I did not think twice about repeating my little stunt at the bus stop. Having mom duty this week for some children I sometimes babysit, I have been thoroughly enjoying the household routines of sibling rivalry refereeing, meal preparations and snack packings, nintendo applauding, jacket-zipping, shoelace-tying, carpool-driving, and such.
My first day of pick up at the bus drop-off point, I initially joined the row of parked parental units, most of whom chatted on their phones while waiting for Junior to find the right car and lug herself, along with 75-pound backpack and assorted sports equipment, musical instruments, etc.
After a few moments of observation, however, I decided that I simply could not pick up my crew in such a dull manner. So I watched diligently for the bus and when #30 finally turned the corner and rolled towards me on the drive-up, I leapt out of my car. As the bus passed my car I jumped up and down, waving madly and displaying a gleeful ear-to-ear grin as I did my happy dance. I then jaunted towards the bus when it came to a stop so that I would be beaming at them when the children descended the steps of the bus . . .
See–now you can either be happily relieved at your own more sensible mothering techniques, or you can simply feel blessed to have been raised by a much more normal mother than me :-)
February 21, 2008
I ended up oddly fond of this evening shot: it has the deceptive air of some clip from a classic film noir; in reality it is simply a poor-quality cell phone remedy for being caught traveling without my camera. Ah well . . . whether or not I can adequately document it, I have enjoyed witnessing this event while visiting a dear friend on a lovely island!
February 8, 2008
Patty was waiting for me outside the office as I made my way into work today.
“I got her legs up on the bed but I cain’t get her ass up too.”
Her statement was made in such a matter-of-fact fashion that it took me a moment to grasp what exactly she was telling, or asking, me. Turns out she had been helping one of the less mobile of the residents in the daily commute from bed to wheelchair when the procedure went rather awry.
So I followed her up to Bertha’s room wondering what exactly I was going to find. Sure enough, my entrance revealed Bertha’s rear end lodged precariously in between the chair and bed, sheets carelessly draped so as to partially conceal her bare bottom. “Sorry about my butt, honey,” she said as I surveyed the scene. “You know I just can’t sleep with any clothes on. They always bunch up on me, and I just can’t take it.”
Often I’m afraid I struggle with following the workplace regulations that forbid me to physically intervene in resident crises. Today, however, I somehow resisted that tendency, dutifully calling the EMTs so that the proper procedure could be followed to remedy the predicament.
When the two gentlemen entered the room, they stood at her bedside with Patty and I. Bertha began to speak again, and the following interaction ensued:
“Now honey, I want you to tell your wife something for me.”
“Well Ma’am, how do you know I’m married?”
“Why everyone’s married to somebody. So now you can go home and tell her that women are all ass and you can prove it!”
So much for the women’s liberation movement.
February 4, 2008
So maybe it will be hard to say goodbye after all. Today I brought in a gift for Mr. Bradley; he loves talking about his granddaughter and showing me new photos of her. So I periodically bring in gifts for him to take the next time he visits her. When I took it up to his room he pulled out 2 large boxes of chocolates and tried to give them both to me. I tried to argue that I couldn’t take that much from him, and he explained that he wanted to buy “good” chocolates for me but hadn’t been able to get a ride. He was stuck walking to the dollar store, and explained to me that he bought both of them because that was meant to make up for the fact that they weren’t fine chocolates like he wanted to buy. It is this kind of thoughtful generosity that reminds us all of the goodness in a world that’s not always such a good place.