Dear Gmail,

Hi.  Remember me?

I haven’t wanted to say anything but things have just continued to get worse with us so you left me no choice.

Did I do something wrong?  Was it something I wrote or perhaps a new option I decided to put on?  I swear, I haven’t moved to Yahoo mail or even Hotmail.  You are still my email of choice.   And despite your anger or feelings of hostility towards me, I still love you.

Therefore, I’m so confused as to why you hate me so?  I used to get such great email in my Inbox.  I would open you up to see “Inbox (5)”  which would include emails from friends, people from Craigslist wanting to buy my crap or comments on my blog.  The happiness would be endless. 

But lately, I open you up each morning with such hope and anxiety, just to find:

“Inbox”
“Spam (15)”

What?!?  Nothing in my Inbox but 15 emails in Spam saying things like “OK, you win…we are DESPERATE for mystery shoppers!”  Or “Find Affordable Life Insurance Today”.  Or my current favorite “Flush out up to 20 pounds with Acai Cleanse”  Are you trying to tell me something?  I have a crappy job and I’m dying because I’m fat? 

What can I do to right things again with you, Gmail?  Please tell me!  I’m desperate.  I’m so sure you are hiding all these great emails from me because really, there is no way no one emails me for hours on end.  Right?

So please think about it and call me.  Er, I mean EMAIL me.  And not in the SPAM folder.  Please.

Much love,
Princessmikkimoto@YOU.com

I do realize that the very title of this post will insure that my mother is the ONLY human that I date for a long time.  But Saturday night I did indeed have a date with my mom.

And before you make that “awww” sound and think that I have also started to crochet and got a cat, you should know it was MY idea and we had great time.

It wasn’t just a date with my mom, it was also a date with Madison.  Madison, especially central Madison, is like this happy little nirvana of liberalism.  Like it’s own version of a Richard Scarry book.

Except ours would be called “The Best Liberal Town Ever!”

Complete with the local grocery store being Trader Joe’s and young children helping their parents carry “Obama/Biden” yard signs down the street.

We had dinner at this wonderful Mediterranean restaurant, Dardanelles, where the owner, Barbara, is very involved in politics in Madison.  And, ah, that’s putting it mildly.  Not only does she have a large “Obama ‘08″ sign on the front door of the restaurant but my mom said she has also been known to send petitions around the dining room to impeach Bush and Cheney.   Yeah, I have a woman crush on Barb.

After dinner we decided to stroll down to the Obama Headquarters, which since this is Happy Liberal Town, is just a block away.   Even though it was a Saturday night, the place was buzzing.  My mom and I signed ourselves up for duty and promised to come back in this week.  And trust me, just being in there charged us up so much that we WILL be back.  My mom even promised to make phone calls!  Which isn’t one of her strongest suits as she proved during the Kerry campaign of 2004.  But I think if there was ever a Presidential Candidate she could concur her fears of talking to random people on the phone for, it would be Obama.

Oh, but the night didn’t end there.  No sir!  Then it was time to get in our Happy Little Subaru and go to Sundance (the one in Madison, not Utah) to see the biggest chick flick and cheesiest film known to man.   Nights In Rodanthe.  (Warning: even this website I linked might make you gag.)

I knew we were in for it when the opening credits said this film was based on the book by Nicholas Sparks.  But dammit, if both my mom and I, in spite of ourselves, didn’t bawl our eyes out.  There is just something about Richard Gere that can bring a woman to her knees.  And don’t even get me started about how cute Diane Lane is.  As we were walking to the car with red puffy eyes and dribbling noses, we were laughing about what a cheesy movie that was and why the hell were we crying!!!

In the car on the way home I said, “Thanks for a great date Mommy!”

To which she replied, “I AM a good date huh?  I pay for everything and won’t even make you come inside for a nightcap.” 
“And you even provide free babysitting thanks to your husband.  Wow, this is the best date ever!!”

I guess it’s a good thing that if I am going to be a spinster for the rest of my life, I have someone who is fun to play with and won’t break up with me.  She can’t.  It’s a biological law.

So Mom, whatcha doin’ next Saturday night?

Today, I eat these Newman’s Own cookies in your honor, Paul.

May many other celebrities learn humility, charity and grace from your example. 

Paul Newman 1925 - 2008.

Yesterday morning Ben was still so sick he was clenching his stomach in pain.  I never did take him to my parents, so I could go into work, because he was honestly too sick to transport.  There was no way he could be that far from a toilet and the walk down to the car might have done him in.

Being the almost doctor that I am, I concluded that his stomach hurt because it was so empty.  (Again with the food.  I know.)  So I gave him a tiny amount of graham cracker, which after yelling at me for that “stupid idea MOOOOM!”  he threw up again.  

By now I was mad.  Mad at this malady that had infected my son.  What would it take to get rid of it once and for all?  Bloodletting?  A witch doctor?  Dr. Phil?

After searching on the World Wide Web for cures (a.k.a calling his doctor once again - who told me to stop pushing food already!) I came downstairs to find him SITTING UP!  AND EATING the graham crackers I had left behind.  He looked and me, smiled and said “Hi Mom!  I’m so hungry!”  And just like that, the evil disease left his body.

And I finally saw THIS boy again.

Hey you!  I remember you!  You are much more fun than the guy who couldn’t pick up his head to sip water. 

When I asked, “What are you hungry for?  Grandpa’s coming over and I’m running to the grocery store.  I’ll get you whatever you want.”  He replied, with the fervor of someone who hadn’t eaten in two days, “Cookies!  Chocolate chip cookies!”

If cookies is what the boy wanted, he was going to get them.  And not some boring store bought cookies. 

Children’s illnesses are so bizarre.  So much with the drama!  They come on out of nowhere with such intensity and then leave the same way.  I remember being like that as a kid.  Knocking on death’s door one minute and then asking to ride my bike the next.

Whatever the hell this was, I’m just glad it’s gone and I have HIM back.

I missed you Buddy.

Tuesday night I was woken by the sound of my son making a bizarre moaning noise as he made a b-line to the bathroom.  He barely got out, “I don’t feel so good…” when the dinner that I spent hours 10 minutes making him showed up in the toilet.  I was just so proud that he made it to the toilet as I rubbed his back and kept saying “Good job cutie…” that I actually forgot just how gross it all was.

Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep as every move he made I was sure was going to be another run.

When Ben is sick, it’s the worst.  I’m sure every parent thinks that of their own child, but really, with Ben, IT IS THE WORST!  Since he’s normally crazy active, when he’s sick and lethargic I would do anything for a little jump on the couch.  I long to say “Settle down!!”    I would also do anything to be the one retching in the toilet.  His little body making those noises… it just kills me.

Yesterday he was so sick he couldn’t even sit up to play on the computer!  He said even reading made him nauseous. That very well may have been an excuse, but it was one I took. He also said he was so sick he couldn’t even play PS2.   GASP!  No Madden?!  It was then I took his temperature and he did indeed have a fever. 

Because I am his mother and happen to be Jewish, I am therefore very uncomfortable when people don’t eat. So I kept forcing food on him.  “Here, eat dry toast.”  Yep, that came up.  A couple hours later it was “OK now try a banana.”  And of course that hit the toilet water too.  During that episode, my child actually managed to get out, in between hurls, “Great idea on the banana mom.”  He may be sick but he still doesn’t miss a chance to put his mother in her place.  That’s my kid!

I did finally get the hint (also thanks to a call into the nurse) and stuck to the clear liquids.  Instead I just fed myself.   A lot.

The throwing up stopped but he still is most comparable to a wet noodle.   Even last night the thought of walking up the stairs brought tears to his eyes.  If that doesn’t shoot a stake right in your heart, I’m not sure what does.

Today he is with my parents, unless I get the Bat Signal saying he wants his mommy.  Today is also about getting some food in that now very sore tummy.  And finding his endless exuberance that I already miss so much. 

Until that happens, my universe just isn’t right.

Wordless Wednesday

The other day, in an effort to get over my super fun weekend, I was going through some of my old jewelry boxes looking for god knows what.

When lo and behold, I found treasure!  A packet of three 1979 Susan B Anthony silver dollars (still in the plastic) and some other odd looking gold coins.

I was so sure I had struck it rich, I immediately started dreaming of what color Mercedes I was going to get as I went to the computer, just to make sure my suspicions were right.

First I Googled “1979 Susan B Anthony worth” and while the page was loading my pupils were replaced with dollar signs, just like in Scooby Doo. 

That was until I found this, on more than one page:

Q: How much is a 1979 Susan B. Anthony dollar worth?
It’s a 1979 P in good condition.

A: $1.00 unless you can find a sucker.

OK, so my Mercedes would have to wait. 

But I still had these other gold coins!  What were they?  Where did they come from?  I couldn’t remember. 

They were sort of tarnished and looked very old.  I didn’t have my glasses on but I thought they were either some exotic foreign country’s coin (because I often visit foreign countries and take away gold coins to save for later) or at least something a coin collector would go ape for. 

I was so sure in my treasure hunt, that I almost put them in my wallet to take to a coin collector the next day.  Some form of clarity came over me when I decided that maybe, just maybe, I should get those spectacles on and get in more light just to see what I was dealing with.

With the glasses on and the right light, I began to make out some of the etchings on the coin. 
“2000″ one said.   Hmmm, not that old, I thought, but it could still be super rare.

When I tilted it just right, and closed one eye, I could finally make out some of the words imprinted on the coin,

“Where… A… Kid… Can… Be… A… Kid.” 

And then finally, with much more clarity, there he was, in all his rodent glory. None other than Chuck E Cheese himself.  Clearly laughing at me.

Like a bubble popping, there went the mansion with the pool house, as I laughed at myself out loud and promptly threw my precious gold coins away.   YES!  I threw them away.  I would rather have root canals on all my teeth without anesthesia then to subject myself to Chuck E Cheese.

But think how great it would have been to have brought them into a coin collector.  “Here’s something you haven’t seen before!” I’d say cockily.  Just to have the guy hand over 400 tickets to redeem for a pencil.

The 1979 Susan B Anthony’s, on the other hand, have been bestowed to Ben to hold on for another generation.  And hopefully be worth a Mercedes someday.

I wanted this one to work.  I really did.  I had such hopes.  He was so sweet, let me watch “The Hills” while he gave me backrubs and he was so funny.   God he could make me laugh.  Even just his laughter could make me laugh until all my eye make-up was a distant memory. 

It would have been so great if it wasn’t for that one nagging little feeling in the back of my mind that said “THOSE” feelings just weren’t there.  I willed them to be there.   I even told myself they weren’t that important.

But in the end, I knew they were.

So I had to end it.   And did so last night.  Even though I know it was the right thing to do for everyone involved, I feel terrible.  Hurting someone that I truly care about, well it just hurts.

I really hope that we can remain friends after the hurt wears off. 

When I told Ben this morning he said, “Well it’s good and bad.  He was fun to play video games with but now it’s just you and I again.  And now you won’t get married.”

Spoken from the mouths of babes… truer words have never been uttered.

(I know this is a lame excuse for a post but if you could see the nothingness that is the creative part of my brain, you would understand.  There are cobwebs in there.  A vast hole of nothing.  “Hello?  Anyone home?”  Nope.  I got nothing…  So I give you George W. Bush to do my comic relief for me.  And I used to say he was good for nothing…)

“People say, how can I help on this war against terror? How can I fight evil? You can do so by mentoring a child; by going into a shut-in’s house and say ‘I love you.’”
-George W Bush Washington, D.C.; September 19, 2002

 ”It’s clearly a budget. It’s got a lot of numbers in it.”
-George W Bush As quoted by Reuters; May 5, 2000

 ”I think we agree, the past is over.”
 -George W Bush. As quoted by The Dallas Morning News; May 10, 2000

 ”I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully.”
 -George W Bush Saginaw, Michigan; September 29, 2000

 ”I’m going to spend a lot of time on Social Security.  I enjoy it.  I enjoy taking on the issue.  I guess it’s the mother in me.”
-George W Bush.  Washington, D.C.; April 14, 2005

We’ll miss ya George.  Don’t let the door hit yer arse on the way out!

Remember the time I said my Dad and I were so different?  (If you don’t, stop reading this and immediately go to the ER because since that was just two days ago, you’re clearly having a stroke.)

Yeah well, I guess we have more similiarities than I thought. 

We both have the same eyebrows, the same non-existent lips (thanks for that one, Pop!), both of us would rather NOT talk about our feelings thank you very much, and we both turn to dust if we are up past 11pm. 

The other thing I realized yesterday, was that I seem to have inherited the “Raging Smart Ass” gene from him.  The only difference is, mine comes out on a daily basis, whereas my father only uses his on special occasions. 

Like yesterday.  When I sent him an innocent email that said:

Hey Dad,
I just requested four books from the library for Ben.  2 Spiderwick and 2 Beast Quest.
So no need to buy him any… if he loves one we can always look for it at Half Price books or online. 
Love you!
Becky

His reply?
“Good for you!!!  That’s GREAT!!!  Way to go, girl!!!!”

Oh yeah, and one more similiarity… he reads blogs.