Remember when people would ask you and your Cap'n or McLovin about the beginning of your time together, when you met, how you knew it was "forever" - gag. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about forever -- Season One notwithstanding -- hmm, this would be one of those places where my sweet old tiny Scottish grandmother would say "yeh needin' to be stoppin' here Lass...thar hole yer diggin' is gettin' a wee big..."
So, one of our awesome people wrote and said, "you and Lydia are sooooo different. [Editor's Note: the Choo v. Clog debate proved that yesterday, didn't it?? - Kate] Can't even imagine how you became friends, much less collaborate on getting your blog done."
HOW WE MET
It started with Lefty and Thumbelina. They were in the same class together. But aside from the occasional hellos and trading of Mom Duties, we didn't chat. Kate had just had Happy, and was working - like ALL. THE. TIME. And Lydia was toting around Baby Hawk, adjusting to working full time after three and a half years at home and trying to look like she wasn't coming apart at the seams.
Lanterns -- was a suggestion of Lydia's, I think."
I was like, "Fantastic. I'm gonna come up with one involving dog poop and peeled grapes for her Mom Day."
[By the way, that project? The string? HUGE disaster. Deformed, limp globular orbs that, once the balloon was popped, sorta morphed into shriveled prune-y "light" that would drip re-melting glue on your head when heated up by a light bulb. Awesome. Is it still in my house? Yep. Because it, like Jefe, are destined to be with me forever. ]
[Editorial Comment: For the record, NOT my project. I do not believe in balloons. I mean that. I do not acknowledge their existence because they serve one purpose and that is to make small children cry. But it's an easy mistake because I do love crafts. A lot. In an unhealthy way. - Lydia]
I thought Lydia was just. so. great. And she thought I was Working Mom Barbie. Complete with requisite collection of shoes, clothing and vapidness. I might also have been sort of a bitch. Lydia reminded me of the time she complimented me on my outfit and something about setting the bar high for the other moms -- which is super flattering and requires an equally magnanimous and suitably appreciative response. Apparently, mine was "Yeah." [It might have been "Hmmm Mmmm." - Lydia]
But, to balance the scales, when Lydia broke her ankle while pregnant with Mini Mini Me, and everyone made dinners for her family, the Cap'n took to calling me Enchiladas. Justifiable, since I basically ambushed him outside the preschool with this absurd tray of enchiladas. [PS - Spiral fracture. Surgery. Plate and six screws put in with no anesthesia or pain killers because I was pregnant. Do I have good future guilt leverage or what?? - Lydia]
And blathering about cooking instructions while he's trying to load Hawk and Thumbelina into the car. Oh, and I'm a COMPLETE stranger.
I just didn't realize he still calls me Enchiladas. And that Lydia refers to me, to him, as Enchiladas. And he says it like he's Herve Villechaize, even though -- and I'm pretty sure the Cap'n will agree -- he is the whitest white boy since that kid on the Fresh Beat Band. [Because those enchiladas were BAD*ASS. And really, we were practically strangers at the time and she cooked an amazing dinner for my whole family - that lasted a week - out of *niceness*. So I promptly forgot the whole "Hmmm Mmmm" incident and just enjoyed the cheesy, melty deliciousness. Also, I would like to mention that coming out of the mouth of any other man, nicknaming Kate "Enchiladas" would seem sort of salacious and gross, but from the Cap'n - who is Senor Squarepants - it is a clear reference to food. - Lydia] [See? Told ya. Whitest. White Boy. Ever. - Kate]
But, as all great teams discover, all you need is a catalyst.
Let's call her Dora. Let's call ALL of them Dora.
I'm all for people who say what they think, and mean it, and aren't too timid to say something that everyone else in the room may not agree with. But this preschool that Lydia and I spend way too much time at has some people that really need to shut their traps. I'm eternally tempted to arm myself with bite-sized morsels of food at all times just so I can say something like "Canape?" every time they start to talk, and they'll eat it and have to be quiet for 8 seconds. Then I can escape. I timed myself, using McLovin:
Me: Here, eat this.
Me: Duh. For SCIENCE.
[shove crabcake in mouth]
McLovin: mmm ris is reery goo --
Me: SHUT UP! Can't you see I'm doing important research here?
[walk away at accelerated pace]
McLovin: Whr r ooo -
Me: Science, remember? Chew and swallow.
McLovin: What the hell Kate? I'm supposed to eat something and you walk away?
Me: [sing-songy] I can't hear you. I can't hear you...la la la...[turns back to McLovin] It TOTALLY works!
McLovin: You need medication.
Me: No way. I'm doing a scientific study here. Look. By the time you were done chewing -- and just a crabcake --I was across the driveway. If I would have given you a caramel or piece of ice, I could have been further.
McLovin: Can I give you a piece of ice?
Me: You're not doing science. But I could totally go for a caramel. Do you have one?
McLovin: I'm walking away from you now.
Me: What?! Without giving me a crabcake? What about a caramel? You suck at science.
So at the beginning of school we're sitting in this big room around a table getting all the school instructions. Some of which are great, like "please don't bring sick children to school." And some of which suck, like "parent helpers don't punish misbehaving children. The teacher will employ redirection tactics." Really? Like into traffic? Five minutes in, I'm Maude-facing all over the place. Then I look over at Lydia.
And she's Maude-facing right back at me.
It was awesome.
The next day, we were in the parking lot outside the preschool for two hours, talking each other thru nervous breakdowns like we're Dr. Phil or something...and plotting the birth of MommyLand.
We would say you're welcome, but we'd totally prefer to say THANK YOU! For reading, for laughing, for keeping us off prescription meds...for coming back.
Lydia, to Kate: What the -- You're getting all misty.
Kate, to Lydia: No I'm not. Shut up.
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(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. - 2009
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