2005-09-20 - 1:33 p.m.

I'm so horrified that we put our children in these bubbles these days. We don't allow them to have any real experiences. We don't allow them to learn from their own mistakes, or explorations and we (well, we is the wrong word here but I digress) faint at the thought that they might be disappointed or unhappy for even a moment.

Cases in point:

I heard a guy on the radio this morning talking about how he bought his kids a box of Munchkins and he got the assorted because some of his kids like powdered and the others like chocolate.

The tragedy played out when the children learned that also included were jelly munchkins and some of the jelly ones had actually stuck themselves to the chocolate.

Radio guy went on and on about how the kids were going crazy over the jelly being on the chocolate and how he had to eat all of the jelly ones so they wouldn't be upset that they were near the chocolate and the powdered.

Are you kidding me? Tell the kid you're lucky you have donuts. You don't want the donuts that's fine. Don't eat them. Don't eat anything until lunchtime and if you don't like what's for lunch don't eat anything then either. When you get less picky, eat what I put in front of you. Until then be hungry and shut up.

I used to babysit for my boss, the KOI. I was given instructions for feeding his two children.

BoyKOI eats only popcorn. Drinks only chocolate milk. Occasionally you can take him to get chicken nuggets and fries, but you have to get the "chickens" from Burger King and the fries from McDonalds because he won't eat them otherwise. You can get him a chocolate shake from either place.

This was a child that still needed his ass wiped when he pooped. HE was gonna make the distinction between mcdonalds fries and burger king fries. I was gonna drive all over town to get the two separate things.

Or he could just eat popcorn.

He still only eats popcorn. He's in 5th grade. Seriously. Breakfast, lunch, supper. Popcorn only.

GirlKOI would eat the exact same chicken/fry combo as BoyKOI OR she would eat a large pizza. By herself. She was in prekindergarten. She would strip all of the cheese off of the pizza, eat the cheese and then dunk the crust in her milk (white, no chocolate) and eat the crust, dumping milk everywhere.

For 3 years that was dinner time. No meal was ever cooked for these children. They were at no time ever told look, you eat what I eat or you go hungry.

I tried to get boyKOI to eat a hotdog one time. It was like filming a horror movie.

Last night I heard that they are telling parents all over that there will be no more peanut butter or berries of any kind in school lunches and children are no longer going to be allowed to bring food from home to school.

Because kids have allergies and trade lunches.

Look. If your kid is old enough to be in school it is old enough to learn, YOU EAT WHAT I GAVE YOU. If you trade your lunch and you get sick you may die.

We traded lunches all the time. Nobody died. Kids who had allergies said, "no thanks, I'm allergic."

Personal responsibility. Imagine.

New topic.

This morning I had wet hands and went to touch an electric outlet. Do you know what thought process I had?

"It's just a little water, and the light is small, it'll probably only be a little shock."

That's right. And I went right ahead with what I was doing. No shock, but still, who thinks that way?

Moving on.

I made Jordan meet me on the way to work this morning and bring me a bottle of his shampoo.

I called him last night at 2 AM and just left a message saying, "Meet me at the store, bring your shampoo."

That's it.

God Bless him. He just gave me a hug, handed me the shampoo and kissed my head.

He's the only person I know who can handle my full on crazy.

After I had driven away he called me.

J "Smell right? that's the one?"

He knew. I didn't need shampoo. I just needed the scent memory. We've never even discussed anything like this, but he knew.

It was the right one. I feel much better and may even get some sleep tonight.

Of course then I engage in conversation with him, which was probably a mistake. I asked how long he'd be home and where he was heading next and he hesitated just a bit too long.

Turns out he's doing a show in Orlando in October.

Orlando in October, for me, is a difficult thing. I try to gloss over that and ask him where the show is.

He pretends not to know but it's clear in his voice that he does.

Yeah. Jordan's playing Church St. Station in October. It's a benefit for Katrina victims. He said that was the only reason he took the gig.

For those of you who aren't fully in that loop: I met my husband, my dead husband, while he was playing with his band. At church st. station. In Orlando. In October.

And again we change topics.

I'm in no mood for slick transitions today.I am in the mood for driving rain but I guess I'd have to drive south for that.

Anyway.

Do you ever remember the idea of a song, but not the actual song? I've had the name of a song in my head for forever now. Matt and I used to listen to Love Song for a Vampire by Annie Lennox on our way home from drinking all the time. I have vivid memories of watching the tops of trees and rooftops of houses pass by in blinks of light as I lay, my head on Matt's lap, buzzed, or flat our drunk, and he drove home from Boston, that song playing on a continuous loop the entire ride. Night after night.

Comforting.

I found the song today and listened to a piece of it. I don't recognize a single note.

It was a disappointment. I thought sure it had secrets to tell me about those nights.

I guess if there's a theme to any of this (children talk excluded) it's that I appear to be searching the past for comfort lately.

I hadn't thought much about it until just now, but it's true.

It goes back so far.

When I was very small, before I was in school I had a pillow with a velour side. It was dark blue and had kittens on it and I would only fall asleep if I had it and could scratch my fingers on it. I called it my scratchy pillow.

I hadn't thought about the scratchy pillow in forever. Last friday night I was falling asleep on the sofa and lightly scratching at my pillow, as I began to drift off I thought, "I want my scratchy pillow".

Bizarre. I sat right up. Where did that come from?

But I went out over the weekend and bought a pillow that could possibly become a scratchy pillow.

I have some idea why I'm searching for comfort, and even some idea of why I feel like I'll find it in the past. What I don't have is confidence that any of these things will be beneficial long term but I have a warning for you.

If you see me make large changes suddenly, changes you wouldn't believe I would make, don't be real surprised and don't say I didn't warn you.

No Anderson photos today. Because I'm in mourning. I'm not pointing fingers, but someone broke my heart with a broken promise. sniffle.

Oh, and I'm thinking of changing the layout really really soon. Colors will probably be different every time you look for awhile.

Oh, and one very last thing? I had a fluffanutter hot dog for lunch this weekend and it rocked! Seriously. Try it. Peanut butter, marshmallow fluff and hot dog in a roll. Rock on.

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