I'm Watching You

I had the pleasure of observing the V-meister's last gymnastics class of the session yesterday. Except that in my excitement and haste to secure a good wall-side seat, I forgot the V-meister.

Don't worry, I had only been in the gymnasium for about a minute, fiddling around with the film option on my new iPhone 3G, before the mother to my right asked, "So, which one's yours?"

Thankfully the V-meister, who I'd left inside the climbing structure of the lobby play area, was still blissfully unaware of my absence when I scrambled back to retrieve her.

(I will be accepting my mother of the year award later this week at a private ceremony in Switzerland.)

Once class got underway with all students accounted for, I just couldn't get enough of watching her, my lithe and fragile little girl. She is the youngest and littlest one in her class, but very nimble - just like her gymnast mother before her.

One thing she doesn't have, however, is my fierce turf protection instinct. Because while the little V-meister was twirling around and talking to herself in line for the vault, this saucy little Nadia Comaneci look-alike kept cutting in front of her.

Why wasn't the V-meister standing up for herself? She seemed to care not a whit that a communist was taking advantage of her, not to mention flagrantly disregarding universally accepted rules of order and decorum.

It took every ounce of my emotional intelligence to keep my mouth shut. The V-meister, I understood, needed to learn how to stand up for herself. So I sat on my hands and hummed Eidel Weiss to prevent myself from executing the roundoff/back handspring tumbling pass that would bring me face-to-face with her aggressor.

But Nadia Comaneci was ruthless, and continued to cut in front of the V-meister with wild abandon.

That's when an invisible motherforce completely beyond my control caused me to stand up and yell, "HEY, V-MEISTER! DON'T LET THAT KID IN THE RED LEOTARD CUT IN FRONT OF YOU ANYMORE!" Then I tried to make eye contact with Nadia Comaneci by re-enacting Robert De Niro's "I'm watching you" maneuver from Meet the Parents.

It worked.

I am not proud.

If they ever let me into either one of my childrens' sports related functions again, I will be wearing a straitjacket and a muzzle.

Waving the White Flag

No home bid yesterday due to decision paralysis and subsequent nervous breakdown.

Am relinquishing home search and subsequent decision making to the P-Dawg.

Am flaming ball of stress, cannot order off of restaurant menu. How to make big home purchase decision?

Not possible.

The P-Dawg is out with our real estate lady as I write, looking at homes and making purchase decisions, cool as a flippin' cucumber.

He is going to pick out a house for us and I have agreed to trust him with whatever decision he makes.

In fact, it was my dingbat idea.

AM I MOTHER EFFIN' CRAZY????

Yes, yes I am.

This Might Earn Me an NC-17 Rating

P-Dawg: "Hey, Rimster, what part of the human body expands to twelve times its normal size when subjected to external stimulation?"

Rimarama: "Your pecker?"

P-Dawg: "No, the pupil."*


*This question was originally posed by Winston Churchill during a 1930s Cambridge lecture.

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But this is how I know we're no longer newlyweds:

Rimarama (excited): "Hey, P-Dawg, I took this "Which Lost Character Are You" quiz on Facebook and you'll never guess who I am!!!"

P-Dawg: "The evil guy with the bug eyes?"

(Actually, I'm Doctor. Jack. Shephard.)