Queen of Rambles

I know there are several funny little things I need to write about, but I can never remember them when I sit down after a long evening of watching hyper-active-monkey-boy run in circles.

But I finally remembered one!

We have a new lady at Zumba. I’m going to call her Mama Kim. Surely you remember Mama Kim from Gilmore Girls? A dour Asian woman with military precision in everything she does and no capacity for a smile, much less a loose limbed salsa? So this new woman is EXACTLY like Mama Kim, except she wears an oversized pink headband wraparound thing. I can’t decide if it is supposed to be a sweatband or if she’s trying to keep her ears warm. Zumba is a Latin aerobic class which means there’s lots of hip movements and fluid looking fancy steps. I can’t claim to move my hips or have any sort of fluid movement, but you should see Mama Kim. Every movement is executed with perfect sharp jabs. She somehow makes the salsa look like the newest karate craze. And she’s so unhappy! I don’t know how you can frown when you’re jumping all around to a crazy Latin song, but she manages. I can’t even describe it. If you’ve never seen Gilmore Girls, tune in one of these afternoons and wait for Mama Kim to show up. Then imagine her doing the salsa. You’ll be as amused as I am. I hope she becomes a regular so I can be amused every week.

This is much more amusing than the time an Athena (cylon killer robot person) look-alike took BodyPump and I spent the whole class with an elevated heart rate because I thought she was going to shoot me with laser beam eyes before orchestrating the complete annihilation of the human race.

Speaking of BodyPump, I skipped it today because of my bad back. I waffled on it, but in the end I realized that if I can’t pick up Erik without considerable pain, a weight lifting class is probably out of the question. Suddenly we had a free morning, so off we went to the swimming pool.

It wasn’t my idea. The child asked out of the blue and I try to indulge him on occasion since normally we have to follow my schedule. I figured the warm water would be good for my back, which might have been true if the water was above my back and actually warm. I was dying to go in the jacuzzi and sit against a jet, but who would have taken care of Erik? The bored lifeguard?

We were the only people in the kiddie pool for quite a while, which was really nice. They have all kinds of slides, sprayers and river currents. There’s a tunnel slide with a really strong current that Erik decided we must conquer. I think he wanted to climb into the tunnel, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead I would pull him over to it and pretend like it was super hard. I quickly discovered that if I leaned my back into the outflow of the tunnel it was just as good as a jacuzzi jet. The only problem? The force was so strong that it made the water cascade over my head. I was trying to keep my hair dry, but you can guess how well that went with a stream of water pouring over my head.

We had fun until Erik started up with his god-awful shriek. For the past several days he’s been emitting a high pitched sound that sends all the dogs in the county out of their minds. He keeps doing it because he gets a reaction. I know I should just ignore it, but it is hard not to try to make it stop before my ears start bleeding. At one point I dragged him out of the pool, sat him down and told him we were leaving if he did it again.

At this point I saw my whole future unfold and it wasn’t pretty.

He kept saying “sorry, sorry, sorry” with a dimpled smirk.

I asked him what would happen if he made the noise again and he gave the most obnoxious shrug in the world, giggled, and said “nuffin.” I kept at him and kept getting the shrug and “nuffin” until I finally picked him up and walked into the locker room. At that point a real apology came forth and he said he wouldn’t scream again because he didn’t want to go home.

So manipulative at such a young age! GAH!!! He’s so damned cute that it almost works sometimes. It is going to be a long road to adulthood, I’m afraid. I know that’s true of any child, but I just never expected to have to deal with all my sister’s tricks. I’m sure I was manipulative at times, but I don’t recall being very good at it. I usually gave up because I thought when someone said something they really meant it. I never figured out that you could wear a person down by being a pest. I hate pests. My son is a master pest. But I don’t hate my son. I love my son. This is confusing my wee little brain.

Ah well. In just a few days I’ll turn him loose with his cousins. He’ll learn lots of bad habits, but he’ll have a ton of fun and won’t be asking me to play tag 24/7.

Unfortunetly my BIL will be there. He is such a jackass. My mom says he makes everything worse, but she’s assigned him the job of taking care of my sister so that eases some tension. She needs a dedicated nursemaid because she’s a bossy, control freak, whiner. Better him than me. I am not going there to do her bidding, but I think she already knows that. I’m one of the few people that she doesn’t get too bossy with because she knows I don’t put up with her shit. Everyone else always gives in because they can’t take the peskiness, but I HATE pests (except for my son. See above). I don’t give in. I’m an Aries, after all.

I do think I’m going to give in to the siren call of my bed. All that swimming wore me out.

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 8th, 2009 at 9:23 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.