Poetry Thursday: Untitled, 24 Oct 1989

I've had words and ideas in my head all week, but I couldn't work them into a cohesive poem. So I am pulling out another old poem. Honestly, I fell victim to all the last-minute craziness of the holidays and didn't take time to put pen to paper. I do want to move writing to a higher spot on my priority list, so I need to figure out how to fit it in.

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Sitting in a lobby
The size of a Ritz cracker
Waiting for a faceless someone
To mispronounce my name
So that I may follow the garbled sound
Down the antiseptic hall
To a nondescript office,
Sit in a vegetable-colored chair,
And answer soul-stealing questions
(Knowing that they have been asked
Five times already
That very day.)
All this I must endure
To recover my peace of mind.

--Dani M. Sanders, 24 Oct 89

I've been brainwashed

It occurred to me on Sunday that I had been reading the Dress A Day blog a little too much. I was shopping for toys when I was totally distracted by a woman wearing a Duro-style dress. A few months' ago I didn't even know what a Duro was; now I am convinced that it is the perfect dress for my body shape and I must own one. Unfortunately, the knock-offs of this style haven't made it to the cheapo places where I shop yet. Since I haven't seen these dresses in the shops, I almost abandoned my anti-social tendencies and asked this perfect stranger where she got her dress. My natural reticence won out, however, so I am still without that precious bit of knowledge.

More and more I am starting to think that I need to sew my own clothes to get what I want. The ideal solution would be to lose 100 pounds, but I still have to wear something while I'm trying to get in shape. How on earth am I going to find the energy to sew along with everything else?

C1's Reaction Upon Finding One of My Cassettes

"He needs a sweater."

Here we go again

You can't see it very well in the photo, but that is a broken window. It fell right out while the kids were in the room playing. This is yet another thing that has gone wrong in the house in the past few months. ABM is convinced that the kids did something to the window. Perhaps they did, but I don't think they are trying to be destructive. Our windows are the type that have spring latches you can push in to pull down the whole pane for cleaning. I'm guessing the window got stuck and they just pushed whatever they thought would loosen it up. ABM would prefer to think our offspring are sabotaging the house.

This photo is also a snapshot of how I feel right now: shattered. For those who don't know, ABM stands for Angry Black Man and he is really living up to that name these days. He is having a negative reaction to everything these days. I know that he has a lot of stress. He works hard at a job he hates, the bills never seem to be caught up, and I am not as much of a help as most wives. In addition to all that, we've been in this house for a little over five years so a lot of our household belongings are reaching the repair-it-or-replace-it stage. ABM can't seem to face that so he assumes that the kids are breaking everything. I usually have to deal with two or three days of brooding after an incident like this, which means we will be having a Very Pouty Christmas.

Poetry Thursday: PMS

P.
M.
S.
I don't even want to type the words on the same line.
My sadness is genuine and my tears are true
But I stifle them for fear that you will throw
Those dreaded three letters in my face.
I am NOT every woman.
I refuse to be lumped in and dismissed
With every other woman who made a mad dash
Down the feminine-products aisle of the market this week.
There are many days when my sobs
Are not accompanied by a similar flow
In my nether regions.
Ask me why I'm crying; don't assume you know.

--Dani M. Sanders, 21 Dec 06

My gadget lust has returned

Most of you have probably seen a Roomba, the little round robot that vacuums your floors for you. When it first came out, I thought it would end up being another gimmicky piece of crap that went the way of the Pocket Fisherman. Many models and several years' later, it turns out that the Roomba works well and many people swear by them.

Now there is the Scooba, which uses similar technology for mopping floors. While the Roomba always sounded like something nice to get if I came into a windfall, I'm willing to skip a few lunches to get the Scooba. Sure, it is a bit slow (45 minutes for an average-sized kitchen) and it cost a lot more than a mop ($300). Unfortunately, I can count on both hands the number of times I have done a full mopping job on the hard floors in this house, and we have been here over five years. I've actually considered hiring a cleaning service to come in a few times a month just to clean bathrooms and mop floors. Surely the Scooba is cheaper than that. This device sounds like an especially good investment in light of the fact that we plan to pull up all the old wall-to-wall carpeting and switch to hard floors with throw rugs. Now that I've convinced myself, I wonder if I can talk ABM into it?

Sunday Scribblings: Anticipation

Anticipation is a close relative to anxiety and dread in my life, especially at this time of year. Perhaps that's just how it is when you are on the giving end. Kids get to indulge in delicious speculation of what might be under the tree. Adults worry, and this time of year offers plenty of grist for the anxiety mill.

--Will I be able to find what my kids want, especially since I can't shop until my last paycheck before Christmas?

--Will I be able to afford what my kids want?

--Have I done enough to pass my values and the true meaning of Christmas on to kids, so they won't think it is all about the presents?

--Why didn't I make more of an effort to get them involved in charitable acts this year?

--Will I finally be able to find an anniversary and Christmas gift that ABM will truly like and use?

--Will I be able to find money for all the last-minute holiday expenses that seem to pop up, such as the big field trip that the school decided to schedule for two weeks before Christmas?

When you are part of the inner workings of the holiday celebration, there aren't any surprises. My feeling of anticipation has been reduced to one tiny moment right before the first child opens the first present. Then it's all over until next year.

Thanks, Man!

Thanks to my blogging buddy Man for letting me know that Giveaway of the Day has separated their free games out to a separate site. So if you look at my sidebar, you will see a free application and a free game on offer every day. Have fun!

This is why I'm a Scrooge

Part of the reason I dislike Christmas music is that there are so many BAD recordings out there. The same 10 songs are recorded over and over and some of these artists have sucked the life right out of them. I've heard Christmas CDs that sound like audition tapes for "American Idol: The Christmas Spectacular". The radio stations and department stores make the situation worse by putting holiday songs into the rotation right after Halloween. Even if you enjoy Christmas music like my lunch buddy, you are bound to get sick of it before December.

The other reason I don't like Christmas music is a bit more offbeat. Although most holiday tunes just annoy me with their schmaltziness, if you hit me with one at the right time I will bawl uncontrollably. Here's an example:

Today I was feeling a bit out-of-sorts. I don't know if I was channeling someone's PMS or what, but I've been on the verge of tears most of the day. It was the MIL's turn to pick me up from work. I get in the car and she turns the radio to the "All Christmas, All the Time" station. Some song that I have never heard before this year comes on. I think it is called "Christmas Shoes"; it is about a little ragged boy who goes to the store to buy his mom some shoes but doesn't have enough money. The narrator helps him out and finds out the mom is dying and those will probably be the shoes she will be buried in. The song even has a chorus of little children singing at the end. I heard the song two weeks' ago, so it wasn't like I didn't know the story. Still, this was not the song I needed to hear today. My eyes were welling up with tears and I was leaning my head back ever so slightly to keep them from spilling over. You see, the MIL is a hard-nosed woman who would have loved to tease me about crying over that song. I didn't want her to hear even a sniffle out of me!

Poetry Thursday: Driving My Kids Down Abbey Road

This week's prompt was to be inspired by a street.  My poem is connected to the prompt by the tiniest of unpaved side roads, but I'm sharing it, anyway.  This is my attempt to put this week's prevailing thought into words--and no, the poem is NOT about Christmas.  Feel free to give me some constructive criticism; this was written on my lunch break so I know it probably needs some work!


Driving My Kids Down Abbey Road

It's a road so well-traveled,
Many assume that
Everyone is familiar
With its landmarks.
It is the place where
My wedding song was born.
Will my little ones appreciate
The talent that once
Resided there?
Perhaps not,
But I would be remiss
If I left them with
A copy
Of a copy
Of a copy
Ringing in their ears.

--Dani M. Sanders, 14 Dec 2006

So easy to please

My kids are great and this time of year highlights that. Right now, they are in their room having the greatest time playing Mixed-Up Mother Goose. This PC game is 20 years old and aimed at first-graders. The graphics are primitive by today's standards, but they don't care. God has blessed me with children who don't badger me about having the latest toys. They are able to look past the packaging to find the fun.

Accept your cheese

David Hasselhoff not only accepts his cheesiness, he melts it on Wonder Bread and makes a meal out of it. I just found this video for "Jump in My Car". It is like a corny version of "Baby, It's Cold Outside". He has just enough fame to keep him from getting a job at McDonald's but he still needs to make a living, so why not capitalize on the goofy image that Americans have of him?

The Husband Factor

On workday mornings I wait until the very last second to get out of bed.  Around 6a I start thinking about the tasks I need to complete before I walk out the door so I can determine when that last second is. Often during this time I come up with solutions to problems that stumped me the day before.

Such was the case this morning; I figured out why I was having trouble loading content onto my memory card. Great, I thought. I'll get up a few minutes early and take care of it. What I forgot to allow for was the Husband Factor. This is where your spouse decides to use the same resources in the same limited amount of time, unbeknownst to you.  I woke the kids up and then went to get the computer started on its task only to find ABM burning CDs. When I went to do my hair, ABM was hogging the mirror. Everywhere I wanted to be, he was there first. I couldn't even turn on the lights I needed because he had a headache. Since I can't fuss at a sick person, I am sharing my crankiness with you. Grrr!

It's not me, it's everyone else

I read an article this morning about instant messaging. It gave the results of a poll that illustrated the age gap when using forms of online communication. Basically, it said that teenagers are favor IM-ing while adults prefer e-mail. I can guarantee you that none of my friends answered that survey. I can barely get any of them to use e-mail. Most of them have computers but they use them as glorified typewriters for resumes and reports. I would use IM if any of my friends did.

Poetry Thursday: Poetry Meme

Long time, no see! Yes, I am attempting to return to my practice of Poetry Thursdays. It has been on my mind for a few weeks, but then one of my real-life friends (who I had forgotten was a reader of my blog) commented yesterday that she enjoyed the poetry. So I'm back again.

This week's entry is not going to feature a poem, however. The Poetry Thursday suggestion for this week was to fill out a meme about poetry. I like to read memes but they are difficult for me to fill out. My answers are never as entertaining as what others write. I also have trouble remembering things like "the first time I did XYZ". So this will be more of a writing exercise for me than a stimulating read for you, I'm afraid. Hopefully, it will wake up my inner poet a little.

1. The first poem I remember reading/hearing/reacting to was …

"Paul Revere's Ride" by Longfellow. I was in the 4th grade during the US Bicentennial and we focused a lot more on the Revolutionary War than my kids are doing now. Listen my children and you shall hear/Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere . . .

2. I was forced to memorize (name of poem) in school and …

I don't think I was forced to memorize it, but the first poem I remember learning by heart was "Mother to Son" by Langston Hughes. Life for me ain't been no crystal stair . . .

3. I read/don’t read poetry because …

I read poetry because I like the sound of words that have been combined beautifully. To hear a perfectly-crafted phrase read aloud is a pleasure.

4. A poem I’m likely to think about when asked about a favorite poem is …

"To My Dear and Loving Husband" by Anne Bradstreet. Yes, it is old, but there are times that modern English isn't up to the task of expressing my feelings. If ever two were one, then surely we . . .

5. I write/don’t write poetry, but …

I don't usually tell people that I write because I don't want to be a cliche. It seems as though every housewife writes corny rhymes in her spare time -- "L is for the love you showed . . .". Perhaps I am conceited, but I believe my work is better than that.

6. My experience with reading poetry differs from my experience with reading other types of literature …

The act of reading poetry makes me feel sophisticated. Reading novels doesn't elevate me the same way.

7. I find poetry …

If it is good, I find it moving. If it is bad, I am embarrassed for the author.

8. The last time I heard poetry …

It was several months ago when I watched a rerun of Def Poetry Jam, I think.

9. I think poetry is like …

A spilling-forth of emotion.

Clean Sweep, Week 2

Upside-down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round.

I thought we were done with the household upheaval last week, but I was oh-so wrong. ABM has decided that he and the kids have too many clothes, so he has been paring down their wardrobes. I, of course, am exempt from this because I barely have six pairs of panties to my name -- you know I don't have too many clothes. Anyway, I did the preliminary work by weeding out all the clothes that were too small, stained, or ripped. ABM followed up by making sure they had a certain amount of each clothing item. It has been four days of tripping over laundry baskets and garbage bags full of clothes, but I think the job is now complete.

In other news, I am finally knitting again. Rabbit's baby shower is at the end of the month, and she told me that she wanted me to make her a super-soft blanket. I knew that there were several knitters and crocheters in her husband's family so I had to come correct. After some trial-and-error, I settled on the Round Pinwheel Baby Blanket. It is a quick and easy pattern created by one of my online friends; I don't know why I haven't tried it before. I've been working on it for the past few days and I'm happy with how it is turning out. This evening, I talked to Rabbit and she told me that all of her husband's relatives have knit and crocheted her things. Guess what she wants from me? A lullaby CD. Sheesh! Luckily, I had already planned to buy her this one to go with the blanket. Now I have to decide if I am going to give her the blanket at all. I'm not sure if she is saying that she truly doesn't want any more blankets, or if she is trying to save me some work because she knows that I get bored with blankets halfway through the pattern.

Weird Al Has Performed a Public Service

I have been listening to Chamillionaire's "Ridin' Dirty" for months and feeling a bit guilty. This is not a song I would let my kids listen to. I'm not hip enough to understand all the lyrics but the ones I do get aren't clean. Still, I bob my head every time the track comes up in the HitKast rotation because I like the rhythm of it. Thanks to Weird Al Yankovic, I can enjoy that rhythm with lyrics that are clean enough for my kids to hear. Just in case you haven't heard it yet, here's "White and Nerdy":

What a week!

Most people do spring cleaning; we do Christmas cleaning.  Right around Thanksgiving, we start decluttering to make room for the presents that we will be buying the kids and to make the house presentable for holiday entertaining.  This year, however, I think that ABM combined the Christmas purge with a mid-life reassessment.  I'm turning 40 in a month which means he has a year before his hits the big number himself, and he's not happy with his current status. 

When ABM takes stock, we all experience the fallout. It's messy but good things are coming out of it.  The whirlwind was set loose on Tuesday while I was at work.  I've done more housework this week than I usually do in the space of three weeks!  ABM finally moved M into the twins' extra large room as a punishment for not keeping her room clean.   Her old room is now our exercise room, which means no more treadmill walking in the cold garage. We switched shelving units around so that all of the bedrooms feel less crowded.  We've filled several containers with books and clothes for Goodwill.  The dishwasher, the oven, and the vacuum cleaners have been fixed.  In the next few weeks, ABM will be pulling up all the carpet on the second floor and replacing it with laminate flooring.

Home improvement projects aren't the only changes being made around here.  ABM is back on the healthy eating kick, and he is dragging us along with him.  He has also promised the kids that we would do more activities as a family since he is on a day shift for the next six months.  That's a pledge that is going to be difficult to keep because we are normally hands-off parents with very little energy, but I appreciate the fact that he is willing to make the effort.  I wonder what life will look like in our house this time next year.