I get a rare day off to hang with the girls today. My friend D, another friend of hers, and I are meeting up at our favorite salon to enjoy a �Day of Beauty.� What it amounts to is a group of make-up artists putting on a show of sorts, in which they will apply make-up to our faces. After which, we are planning on seeing a yet-to-be-determined movie at the local air-conditioned theater.
It was my company�s holiday party, I think, when I last wore a full face of make-up. I consider a full face to be foundation, powder, blush, eye goop, liner, mascara, and lipstick. These lashes of mine haven�t been subjected to the horrors of mascara since December. I wore a little lipstick just last week, which was nice. I wear a little concealer and powder on a regular basis. But in my day-to-day life, I refuse to be held hostage by eye make-up and lots of goopy foundation and blusher and stuff. Not only do I begrudge the time it takes to appy it, but 5 minutes after it�s on me, my face is screaming to be cleansed and freed of the weight of the stuff. Especially my eyes. The last time I wore mascara, I could not wait to get home and wash it off.
But D thought it would be fun to have professionals make us up. I�ve never done it before, neither has she, so yeah. It�ll probably be fun. We�ll then have to sit through a movie with it all over us, and I�ll have to try hard not to rub my eyes and smear it all over me.
In my younger days, I never left the house without make-up. Lots of it. I think my attitude about make-up changed when I was in my early 30�s. P and I have always done a lot of camping, taking spur of the moment road trips just to see where we�d end up, and other outdoor stuff like boating. Make-up and those activities do not go together. Whenever I did manage to wear it, P would look at me funny and ask, �What�s wrong with your face? Your eyes look funny.� He definitely prefers a natural look, thank God. And then B came along, and not only did wearing make-up not fit into my lifestyle, it just felt yucky.
So there you go. I plan on being very uncomfortable this afternoon, but spending time with D will be fun.
********************My car needed new brakes, so yesterday I took it in. Ca-ching. $500 later, it�s got new brakes all around, turned rotors in the back, new rotors in the front.
Later this week I will hand over another $700 for new tires. It�s insane.
*******************B starts swimming lessons week after next. I�ve been taking her to the pool for the past couple of weeks to get her used to being there, and to make her less afraid of the water. This first session involves a parent being in the water with her. It�s twice a week for five weeks, and P and I will be taking turns getting in the water with her. The next session is without any parents in the water. That should be interesting.
********************Yesterday, B was upstairs in our bedroom watching a video. After a while, she came downstairs to show me how she�d painted her fingernails. Beautiful frosty pink nail polish, mostly on her nails. I thought, oh, that�s pretty. Then my brain started working again and I slowly crept up the stairs. Upon opening the door, my nostrils were assaulted by the unmistakeable aroma of fingernail polish. Fearing what I might find, I slowly walked around to the side of the bed where B had been. The (empty) bottle was laying on its side, its contents puddled all around, soaking my 350 threadcount white sheets. I tore the bottom sheet off he bed, to find the mattress pad equally soaked. I carefully lifted one corner of the pad, and hoping against hope, peered underneath it. The polish was just starting to make its way clear through the mattress pad, and hadn�t yet made contact with the mattress. Luckily for B.
An entire bottle of polish remover, an extra long wash with double the Tide, double the Clorox, and double the Downey later, the stain is completely gone from the mattress pad, and there�s only a few tiny tell-tale signs of polish on the sheet.
She earned a particularly long time-out and severe scolding for that one.
********************Later on in the day, B was once again allowed to return to the only air-conditioned room in our house to finish watching her video. Only this time I made sure she knew she faced corporal punishment if she so much as touched anything in my bathroom. I was downstairs and the phone rang, so I answered it and it was my Dad. We said hello to each other, whatcha doin�, and the typical greetings, and then I heard someone else on the line. I thought it was on Dad�s end, it sounded like a child, so I said, �Who�s this? Who else is on the line?� The person on the line said, �It�s me, B! Hi Mama! I answer the phone! It go ring ring ring! And I pick up the phone like Mama and I hear someone. Mama, I hear someone!� After �we� hungup, I had to have another conversation with her about answering the phone, and playing with our household gadgets in general.
Which leads me to an �episode� I had with K earlier in the day. What is it with these children? Anyway, lately when K is visiting us on the weekends, she has taken it upon herself to grab the phone whenever it rings. This annoyed me, but I never said anything about it. Here�s how I feel about children and telephones, in case anyone is wondering:
I do not find it cute or amusing when parents let their children record their voicemail messages. K�s mother has let her record both the home voicemail AND the one on her cellphone! To me, that�s just disrespectful to the adults calling their household. The second I hear a child�s voice on a voicemail, I hang up.
I do not like going through children to get an adult on the line. If the adult is busy, fine, I�m happy to leave a message, but not with a child! Time and time again, I�ve called K�s mom on the phone when she�s been too busy to take the call, only to have K interrogate me as to why I�m calling! I love K, but I refuse to be quizzed by a 10 year old. And I HATE it when adults use children to screen their calls. There have been many times I have been tempted to just hang up the phone when this starts, but my affection for the children involved prevents me. Usually, I just say, when asked what I�m calling for, �Never mind, just ask your mother to call me back.� And there is DEFINITE irritation in my voice over the whole situation.
This is one thing that really irks me. And so yesterday, the phone rang and I was standing right there, but before I could answer it, K grabbed the phone and answered it. It was a telemarketer, which she did not handle well, and that irked me too. After I hung up the phone for her, I told her that when the phone rang in my house, I would prefer to be the one to answer it. If I was up to my elbows in something and I needed her to answer it, I would ask her to.
The look she gave me made me want to slap her across the face. It was one of those big eyed, back up and turn slowly, okaaaaaaay, whatever you say Crazy Stepmother, kind of looks. The kind of look her father and I have been seeing more and more lately. I raised my voice to her � not quite a yell, but definitely ANGRY � �Hey! Don�t give me that look.� Her (innocently): �What look?� (More with the big eye sarcastic stuff). Me: �That SMARTASS LOOK you just gave me. I do not appreciate it.� And with that, her father stepped in, and she was in trouble.
I do not know what to do with a 10 year old whose mother has treated her like a peer her whole life. She is not MY peer. In my house, I am the parent, she is the child. She�s turned into a know-it-all with a sulky attitude. It is not pleasant.
Ugh, enough of that. It makes me mad thinking about it.
In fact, this has gotten far too long. See what happens when I don�t update for a while. It just builds and builds until I run off at the keyboard, spewing more drivel than anyone really cares about.
Well, I feel cleansed. Unlike how my face is going to feel in a few hours.
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