Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Mar 22, 2007 in
It's A Mom's Life
Merriam Webster describes synchronicity as the coincidental occurrence of events – especially psychic events that seem related, but are not explained by conventional mechanisms of causality.
I describe synchronicity as the coincidental occurrence of strange events which typically happen to redheads.
Yesterday, I enjoyed a redheaded synchronous event, one right out of Carl Jung’s a causal connecting principle.
I had to run to the drugstore at Rite Aid to buy Brian allergy medicine, because I swear this boy of mine is allergic to air during this time of year. His eyes look like something from a Hannibal rising horror film, all puffed and red. There are wads of Kleenex in small piles throughout our house. Fed up, I decide to go buy him some Claritin.
On my way to Rite Aid I begin day dreaming about my next vehicle, imagining myself driving a 2007 Mercedes-Benz GL 450:
I think, “Hmmm I really should go test drive one, or find one to take a photo of . . .” Just then in the distance, parking in front of me at Rite Aid is this dream car.
A tall, good looking businessman gets out and walks into Rite Aid. Bless my over-boiled potatoes, here is my chance.
I park and walk over to his car and for a time am lost in the thoughts of driving it, when I suddenly remember why I went to the store – I should get Brian his allergy medication. I stand in line at the pharmacy to buy medicine that I used to be able to pick up in the isles, because I guess all people with allergies are future crack whores to the government. After allowing my drivers license to be swiped for a whoppin’ 10 pills, I exit towards the electronic doors, where the Mercedes-man is standing at the edge of a counter.
“Is that your beautiful Mercedes?” I ask, pointing outside.
“Why yes,” he grins.
“It’s my dream car. I have a photo of it above my desk. Do you love it?”
“Here then”, he continues, “Take my keys and go sit in it and check it out for yourself.”
I am stunned as he hands me his car keys and directs me out the door. He does not follow, and leaves me to go check out his car on my own – ME the perfect stranger. He stays inside Rite Aid, as I press the buttons that open the driver’s door. I am experiencing that elated, excited feeling as I slide across the leather seat, placing my hands around the leather steering wheel. It feels surreal.
It still has that new car smell. It lacks the wrappers and soda can rings only a teenager would leave, so it is obvious this man doesn’t have children, for if he does then he must haul them by tying them to the hood.
For a brief moment I imagine myself driving the freeway to my dream home in Los Gatos:
I thoroughly enjoy the moment, taking it all in, then slowly I exit the drivers seat, gently shut the door and walk back into Rite Aid.
I am sure my grin was as wide as my ass (which is really big). I pass him back his keys and say, “WOW. How kind of you. Thank you so much!”
“Did you like it?” he grins.
“I loved it”
He takes a package from the Rite Aid employee at the counter, turns to me and smiles, “If I was not on my way to an appointment I’d let you take it for a test drive.”
With that he shakes my hand, winks and exits to the parking lot.
I’d move my feet to follow – if they’d only move. He gets in his car and drives away as the electronic doors are opening and shutting, opening and shutting because I am stuck standing on the release floor pad. I come to my senses as a Rite Aid person asks me if there is a problem.
The problem is that I am not leaving in that Mercedes.
I love synchronicity.
If someone invites me to that house in Los Gatos this week, I’ll faint.
Until next time -
C
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
Tags: mom blogger, parenting blogs, Parenting humor, redhead blogger, the next erma bombeck
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Mar 9, 2007 in
Mom Rants and Raves,
Parenting 101
Can you please make the parts of a car a child comes in contact with removable and dishwasher safe?
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Catherine, the redhead mom
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
Tags: the next erma bombeck
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Mar 7, 2007 in
Parenting Drama,
Remembering
I Wish To Cling
Be quiet – motionless
Approaching time
I wish to suppress
These bubbling feelings
self-contained protests.
He’s mine
From me conceived
I wish to whine
This fare-haired child
but I resign.
Can it be true?
Unstoppable fate
I wish to cling to
My little one
bidding childhood adieu.
Bring back age four
His trucks and tears
I wish for more
Time spent rocking on my hip
pointing at the door.
Be quiet – motionless
Teenage years approaching
I wish to express
These bubbling feelings
future teenage parent stress.
Until next time-
C
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
Tags: the next erma bombeck
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Mar 5, 2007 in
Remembering
If you ever have any doubts about love, go look at a child’s favorite stuffed animal.
This is Brian’s bear, who received plenty of love in his day (gave it too). Brian keeps him on a shelf in his bedroom. It is the one toy he never wants me to get rid of.
This teddy is rather special though. It was given to Brian by my step-father when Brian was born. In all the young photos of Brian he is dragging around this bear.
God forbid we’d try to go anywhere without his “Teddy.” I’d drive 30 miles out of my way to make sure Teddy was in the car!
Nothing like a little hyperventilating with tears the size of marbles to send a parent madly looking for the magical “binky” . . .
His Grandfather, our “Papa Dick” died of heart disease when Brian was almost 4. He adored Brian and the feeling was mutual. So, Teddy is rather special.
He screams L O V E.
Thanks for the reminder Teddy.
Until next time -
C
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
Tags: the next erma bombeck
Posted by Catherine, the redhead mom blogger on Mar 2, 2007 in
Brian and Mom
When I pick Brian up from school and the first thing out of his mouth is, “I have A LOT of homework,” I know he is actually saying, “There is a problem and I am about to blind-side you Mom!”.
“What kind of homework?” I ask.
“The A LOT of kind Mom!” he retorts.
Yeah … I am sure I studied that in school too.
In plain English, there is a project he has been putting off for some reason and now it is due.I can feel it in my bones.
We go back to the office and Brian begins to pull what looks like the entire Dead Sea Scrolls out of his backpack.There are papers, packets, photographs, construction paper, books on Egypt and his colored pencil case. He heaves a big sigh followed by a, “I HAVE TO DO A SCRAPBOOK!” shout as he stares at me with the ‘this is the stupidest thing I have ever heard of in my life’ look.
Before I can ask anything further, my ex-husband looks at us like we have just exposed him to poison ivy and makes a quick exit to his office. (Coward) “What is this scrapbook suppose to be about?” I inquire.“Egyptian grave sites and what is a scrapbook anyways?It sounds pretty girlie”, he moans.Hey I resent that – I don’t like scrap-booking either and last time I looked in the mirror I was still a girl.I equate scrap booking to quilting bees and My Little Pony unicorn figurine collections.
He sits down at the desk and lays the items out in front of him like they are laced with some sort of virus he might catch.Then, I ask the million dollar question, “When is this due?” “Tomorrow,” he grumbles.Nothing like putting off something until the last minute hoping it will magically disappear.
Now it is my turn to sigh.“Let me see the assignment sheet.” I ask.Brian picks up this packet that looks like a small book and I think “Holy shit, I don’t blame him for postponing this pain.”I could get mad, except I am confused as to why in the hell a teacher would assign boys a project which involves scrap-booking. Give me a friggin’ break here.Only certain female teachers would think of this for an entire classroom project and include the boys.
I am thinking there is the story of the Battle of Kadesh, which begins with the army of Ramesses II advancing upon the city of Kadesh in four corps. Ramesses II himself was with the lead element of the corps, known as Amun.The teacher could have given the class a choice … scrapbook the grave sites of the Pharaohs or map this battle.Brian would have mapped the battle in a heartbeat with plenty of red penciled blood.And for those girls, like me – they could have mapped the hell out of the battle too.
But no.
It’s a scrapbook.
It takes a painful two hours for Brian to complete his scrapbook with a great deal of complaining and misery. I help him organize the pages as my ex-husband makes comments about how he would have blown-off such an assignment in school. (HEY! You are no help there, sparky). I am beginning to believe the only reason my ex married me is because I don’t scrapbook. I doubt Brian will ever date a girl who scrapbooks either.I can see it now … he’s dating a girl, who he thinks he likes a lot. She invites him over, he hopes he’ll get a kiss and BAAM she whips out a scrapbookBrian is never seen or heard from again.
I have to show the finished pain:
You will note the mistake he REFUSED to correct, as he proclaimed, “I don’t care. I’m done with it!” Where he gets his stubborn streak from I have no idea…
My ex-husband is no help as all he can do is proclaim what a stupid project it is and how no son of his will ever be into scrap-booking. BLAH BLAH BLAH. But it did make me laugh as I thought what a scrapbook might look like if men like my ex husband actually had one:
Note the mistakes, which he would refuse to correct (Brian has to get that from someone other than me).
It is said, “That which does not kill us makes us stronger”
Although to hear Brian tell it, you would be convinced he died a slow torturous death last night doing a “girlie” thing. And he isn’t quite 12 yet … OIY.
Until next time -
C
Tags: mom blogger, parenting blogs, Parenting humor, redhead blogger, the next erma bombeck
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