The Queen's Rambles

I’ve made a horrible, horrible discovery.

I’ve been on a huge Ceasar salad kick lately, ordering it any time we go to any resturant. I’ve even bought a kit and made it at home a few times.

Point 1: I’ve been watching a lot of competitive cooking shows lately.

Did you know Ceasar salad dressing is made out of pureed anchovies???????????

Do you know I have a major fish aversion? Do you know what I need to do? I need to go wash my mouth out with nuclear waste. I need to vomit out my last six month’s worth or meals. I need to go into a coma and not wake up until I can forget that I ever had a molecule of fish in my mouth.

The sad thing? I’m still trying to convince myself that the restaurants we eat at don’t make the dressing properly, so it’s still safe for me to eat.

Yes, it is “safe” for me to eat anyway. I don’t have allergies to fish, but the mental aversion makes me ill. What am I supposed to do about my Ceasar salad love?

Point 2: I have been spending way too much time outside since I refuse to let Erik go out there alone. It’s majorly cutting into my internet/Elsa-berry/cooking/reading/being human time. I take Elsa-berry out in her stroller, but she’s getting too big to just sit there. She wants out and I let her out and she eats the mulch, the rocks, the grass, the dead leaves, the . . . you get the story. Being outside is good for all of us, but the dear boy wants to be out there for hours at a time. He got used to being really independent and just having me swing by and check on him every fifteen minutes so he doesn’t get why he has to come in when I’m not out with him.

Point 3: I thought I won a major victory in my “just say no” campaign yesterday. My carpool friend asked if I wanted to do a sort of homemade kid camp swap thing this summer. Before Elsa came along that is something I would have said yes to without any hesitation at all. The carpool kid doesn’t listen to me and is much more . . .hmmmm. . . enthusiastic. . .than Erik. There’s no way I can handle him and Erik and Elsa for extended periods of time. And frankly, I don’t want Erik over at their house because the kid talks to his mother like she’s his slave and Erik doesn’t need to be hearing that. I heard the kid tell Erik that I’m the meanest mom in the world. Mwhahahaha. That’s right, and don’t you forget it! I will not be bossed by a five year old.

But then I said yes to something else. I agreed to run for president of our MOMS Club chapter. Ugh. In our club “running” is a euphemism for “being” since there’s no competition. I didn’t want to run. In fact, I was thinking of dropping out of the club altogether, but maybe this fall when Erik no longer has a weird school schedule, Elsa-berry and I will be able to partipate a little more. Not that we lack participation now, considering there are only three of us who ever show up to anything. I want to just drop out and e-mail my friends when we want to get together, but I also think MOMS Club is a great organization and really helps people. I know it saved my sanity more than once and has given me a great network of friends and acquaintances who I depend on. We are desperate for a president and there are a couple of people who might step up that would really irritate me, so I decided to just do it myself.

So I guess I still am a push-over. Since having Elsa I’ve given up a lot of my “just do it” attitude toward things and have been setting limits. I simply can’t do everything with two kids.

Point 4: I’m sure I had a point four, but I just lost all my brain cells trying to use the dark force to hold down a platform while my kid yelled at me that I wasn’t pushing Z correctly. How did I go from “my kid will NEVER have a video gaming system until he can pay for it himself” to this? I suppose I said a lot of things before he was born that haven’t panned out. I didn’t count on actually, you know, LOVING the kid and wanting to make him happy. Sounds so stupid when I put it that way, but I had no idea what mother-love was all about.