Not last

So that you don’t think I’m rocking in a corner.  I’m not doing that.  Usually.  I don’t like the resulting damage to my house when the heathens are left without supervision.

1)  Matt passed his Hunter Safety Course, ensuring our likelihood of surviving the apocalypse and forever alleviating my fear of starving to death within two miles of six grocery stores.  He wants to hunt turkeys.  Why I have no idea because I have no intention of eating hunted turkeys although my horror was considerably lessened when I learned that a local butcher shop will accept “game” and turn it into “sterilized, packaged meat like the kind I buy at the grocery store because that is the only kind I am cooking or touching ever, thank you very much.”  That’s a direct quote.  Gayle has probably broken her eyeballs rolling them at me by now.  Gayle lives in Alaska and I suspect she makes animals into cookable meat for fun.  The big challenge of Hunter Safety was whether you could remember to unload your gun before you crossed a fence line in the “field test.”

Let me repeat that for you:  The big challenge of Hunter Safety was whether you could remember to unload your gun before you crossed a fence line in the “field test.”  Occasionally, I fear for the future of humanity, usually when Matt is holding a gun.

Once upon a time, Matt and I lived in Washington, D.C. and he was a lobbyist and I was a lawyer.  SWEAR TO GOD.

2)  My oldest children are horrid, sassy pre-teens who run cross country and roll their eyes.  Garrett has not even turned seven.   That happens on Friday and then they’ll both be seven and I think that’s the age that I can sell them.  I’m not certain. I’ll have to check the rules.  They had their very first actual, honest to goodness, competitive cross country meet.  My inner toddler parent rebelled when the coach yelled “WHAT DO WE WANT TO DO?” and the answer was “WIN!!”  I’m all “and be nice! and have fun! and try our best!”  Ahem.

Then I asked S & G if they were excited to run a real race and they responded: “WHAT RACE? HOLY SHIT MOM WE GET TO RIDE A SCHOOL BUS!!  A SCHOOL BUS, WOMAN, DO YOU HEAR?  THE YELLOW KIND!  BRING GATORADE, THE COACH SAYS WE HAVE TO HAVE GATORADE.  ALSO SNACKS.”

My babies.

Mumblemumble.Cough.Cough.mumble.mumble.  WHAT??  Yes, alright.  Okay.  I showed up with Gatorade and snacks.  I also cried when Garrett crossed the finish line because he has never voluntary moved faster than “oh holy hell Garrett can you PLEASE just MOVE a TINY bit FASTER so that my impatient, not at all living in the moment, east coast head doesn’t explode all over the nice Northwesterners.  I’m pretty sure you can be jailed here for screaming “your ass is on fire and I’m going to put it out with my foot if you don’t get.in.the.damn.van.already” at your child.

(I would never scream that outside of my head.)

He finished 49th in the boys’ first grade race. I won’t say out of how many because it truly doesn’t matter, but it was a number higher than 49 by a statistically significant amount.  We would have continued to love his turtle ass slow self even if he had finished dead last.  He didn’t though and he tried hard and got a lot of joy out of it and it was nice to see.

Matt came late because he has to work or something.  The kids were done running and he asked me quietly how Garrett did and I mouthed “NOT LAST” with the victory sign.  It’s the small things.

Saige can run like Edward Cullen on steroids when she feels like it and when she doesn’t feel like it she stares at me with a death glare from hell and comes up with things to whine about along the lines of “a year ago my foot hurt and you said it was probably fine and that HURT MY FEELINGS.”  (Dramatic sobbing.)  She was also not last and we all rejoiced and had subs.  Fine family fun.

3)  I’m okay. Not great, but okay. Thanks for asking.  Thanks for thinking of me.  Thank you for notes and poems and love.  Thank you, amorphous air pixies, for the unexpected gift of sunny days well into October.  I’m sad.  I keep running into normal, ordinary, everyday things that knock me over in some unexpected way and even as I cry about it, I think, what the hell?  This is nonsense.  But I remember that I’m sad and that’s okay for a while.  I’m happy too.  And I am certainly not last to so many people.  xo.

22 Responses to Not last
  1. Amelia
    October 11, 2012 | 6:48 am

    I ADORE how loving and honest you are about your kids. Because yes, G is the definition of perfection, but holy shit is she obnoxious. That is the exact same food you had 2 days ago. Chew. Swallow. Move on before I lose it.

    There are turkeys in my front yard if your husband is interested. And my husband’s best friend absolutely did not video them boning. I have not seen turkey porn. *barf* There’s also deer and quail. I personally do not eat anything I have been formally introduced to so they’re all cocky and are like we’re going to eat this tree you just planted because you’re a wussy who won’t shoot us. Luckily I didn’t plant the tree my in laws did so I wasn’t offended or upset or anything.

  2. Gayle
    October 11, 2012 | 7:44 am

    ^^^^ Did she just call me obnoxious?^^^^

    At first I was confused, then I knew it wasn’t a reference to Garrett because, well, he’s not a she. The only other “G” word I can find is Gatorade… and well, that’s kind of sexless so…. I guess I’m offended.

    I’m already over it, but it kind of ruins the whole show-my-husband-the-post-written-by-my-favorite-lady-who-lives-in-my-favorite-place-and-we-share-jokes-about-cold-and-outside-and-wilderness-but-not-so-much-wild-for-her.

    It’s kind of like hiding your Halloween candy and later sneaking to eat some only to find it was stolen. This moment of blogging bliss will never be the same…..

    ….kind of like never being able to think about hot tropical islands and butt worms without thinking of you. Or not.

    (I’ll think of something cute to say about turkeys and moose and guns later, but for now I’m just going to take my insult and go to bed. Love you Queen of the Fairies).

    • anymommy
      October 11, 2012 | 1:52 pm

      Oh no!! Not at all. She called her daughter (whose name also starts with G) perfection but also obnoxious because of how slowly she eats. Much like my “G” who does everything painfully slowly EXCEPT eat. He could eat an entire turkey on his own.

      I thought of you (laughingly and lovingly) as I wrote of my turkey horror, suspecting that you would mock my squeamishness.

      I also forgot to go back and link your blog before I went to bed last night, which I have fixed now. Am I still your favorite lady now that we have this all cleared up ;-)?

  3. Mom24@4evermom
    October 11, 2012 | 12:34 pm

    Definitely not last. (((Hugs)))

  4. Jennifer
    October 11, 2012 | 2:15 pm

    You inspire me. You give me strength. And you crack me up. Yes, you! Keep your chin up!

  5. Mel
    October 11, 2012 | 2:37 pm

    Oh, I am sure if my daughter ever runs any sort of track thing I will be just like you and cry and be so thrilled even if she is last because going on a 2 block walk is an all day event for us!

  6. Kristin in Mobile
    October 11, 2012 | 3:26 pm

    I love #2 so much that I don’t even know where to begin!! You had me cackling – so much so that the little college intern we have here came over to read over my shoulder – and then HE was cackling too!!!

    Thank you! :-D

  7. Issa
    October 11, 2012 | 3:35 pm

    Best line ever: “Once upon a time, Matt and I lived in Washington, D.C. and he was a lobbyist and I was a lawyer. SWEAR TO GOD.” Literally laughed until I snorted coffee through my nose.

    Love number two. Just love it. YAY NOT LAST!

    Friend? Sadness isn’t nonsense. Being sad is a part of life. And well…this one may take some time. Please please be gentle with yourself or I may show up and kick your behind. ;) Much love and hugs honey.

  8. suburbancorrespondent
    October 11, 2012 | 3:39 pm

    I’m sorry, dearest – death glares ARE NOT ALLOWED until the teen years. You’ll get plenty of them then. Don’t forget your hand mirror to deflect them!

  9. tracy@sellabitmum
    October 11, 2012 | 3:54 pm

    Damn I love you.

    Also I live in Minnesota where hunting is like our official state sport or something horrific like that.

    xoxox

  10. Annie
    October 11, 2012 | 4:49 pm

    It is amazing to me how extremely slowly they are capable of moving. Literally 10 minutes to put on one sock! Laughing out loud with how you expressed the patience level expiring….so how I feel!
    Hugs to you

  11. Lyndsay
    October 11, 2012 | 5:07 pm

    I’m an Occupational Therapist. One day a colleague of mine had to go do a worksite assessment for a person who was responsible for inseminating turkeys. Well, not ‘inseminating’ so much as getting the male turkeys ready to provide…
    … you know what? Forget it.
    Turkeys are gross. I agree. The end.

  12. Korinthia
    October 11, 2012 | 6:27 pm

    I think our team name for the next Milwaukee Amazing Race will be “Not Last.”

  13. Kendra
    October 11, 2012 | 8:13 pm

    It’s crazy to me that when kids are 7 they have cross country meets. I guess I know what I have to look forward to in a few years. Also…I haven’t put anything since your previous posts but I’ve been thinking about you and thinking happy thoughts. hopefully the sun keeps shining for you.

  14. Sharon
    October 11, 2012 | 9:14 pm

    What is the school bus fascination? I cringe thinking of letting them on the damn things and that is all they can think about! My daughter is going on her first ever field trip and doesn’t even care where it is, she is just thrilled about the bus… Shudder.

  15. Marguerite
    October 11, 2012 | 11:49 pm

    Your writing just speaks to me on so many levels. Where do I line up to buy the book that you are hopefully going to write someday?

  16. Gretchen
    October 12, 2012 | 2:55 pm

    I never comment, but had to say I busted out laughing at my desk at the comment “Saige can run like Edward Cullen on steroids when she feels like it and when she doesn’t feel like it she stares at me with a death glare from hell and comes up with things to whine about along the lines of “a year ago my foot hurt and you said it was probably fine and that HURT MY FEELINGS.” (Dramatic sobbing.)”

    THIS. Is my life. Glad to know I’m not the only one with an extremely stubborn, yet overly sensitive and dramatic little girl.

  17. Elaine
    October 12, 2012 | 4:12 pm

    Fresh turkey sounds SO good right now! You know, cooked first.

    Glad you’re doing okay. Still sending big ole Southern style hugs. xo

  18. cyndy
    October 13, 2012 | 1:25 am

    My boyfriend is a hunter. He recently killed a hog and as long as I don’t have to see it before it looks like the meat from Publix, I’m good. I cooked it in the crockpot and served it on buns. Pulled hog. YUM!

  19. Lisa
    October 14, 2012 | 4:52 am

    Oh this made me laugh. I am now praying my husband does not get any ideas about needing a Hunting Safety Course and turkeys. I have a policy about not eating meat that I saw in its “natural” form. :)
    -Lisa

  20. Diane
    October 15, 2012 | 3:43 pm

    I have a seven-year-old daughter also. You described her perfectly – she is a joy when she is doing what she wants, when she wants to. Other times she can burn holes in my skin with her death stare. I am glad I am not alone. Sooo looking forward to the teen years – NOT!

  21. Lady Jennie
    October 15, 2012 | 5:57 pm

    I’m sad too – less sad for me than for you, although I do feel strong twinges since this was the season for me last year where there was morning sickness and all that, but for you …

    However, oh was this post ever funny. It tickled the bottom of my gut.

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