being out of touch and kind of an emotional wussbag

You could call me asleep since the 90s a completely clueless old fart slightly out of the loop, and you’d be right.  I don’t stay current with all the hottest new music, the best new technology, or the latest fashion trends.  I notice some things, much I do not.

I feel like being online, especially on Twitter, does keep me up to date with things, but it still seems like I miss a lot.  I’m constantly having this conversation in email with my more observant, hip friends:

Me: Huh? Dur.

Hip Friend: What, Bitch? You didn’t know?

Me: Huh? *fart*

Hip Friend: Yeah, it’s been around for ages now. Where have you been?

Me: Huh? Dur.

Hip Friend: I have no idea why I even talk to you, loser.

So, yeah.  I am kind of a ditz in that “doesn’t know what the hell is going on” kind of way.  Lingo, for example, hits me from weird places.  I was on the phone with my husband last night, telling him about how Braden was sick and having a hard time sleeping.

John was between shows downtown.  He was driving to the second show, and after we’d chatted briefly, he told me, “I’ve gotta jump.” Uh, okay? It took me a minute, but I got it.  Still, I had a hard time not quipping, “There better be something just out of your reach, over your head, because if you’re on a bridge, I hope you rot in hell.  You could at least wait until we have something in savings before you kill yourself.  I’d have to get a job and everything, you selfish, insensitive bastard.”

Yeah. It’s a loving, gentle relationship.

But, “Jump?”  WTF?  Is this what the kids and trendy young adults are saying now when they want to get off the phone?  Yeah, I’m feeling a bit like I have cobwebs.  Not in my house, but ON ME.  And for the record, that jerk is older than I am but HE GETS TO LEAVE THE HOUSE REGULARLY.  AND DO STUFF.  WITH PEOPLE.

Ass.

Anyway, totally wandered away from the actual thing I wanted to talk about.

I’ve seen a commercial put together by a local news station several times now.  I am drawn into the commercial every time because the way it is shot is really cool (black and white, different speeds) and the song always pulls my attention.  I had no idea what it was, and kept wondering if this was a popular song I have just missed (would not surprise me).

I saw the commercial again tonight, hit YouTube and found it, and listened to the whole song while watching the video.

Really, actually listened to the words, felt them.

Got the deeper meaning, was moved.  A couple of tears slipped down my cheeks.

I kind of like it when something has the power to move me like that, with no warning.

What song(s) have the power to move you?

Also, I should probably check PMS Buddy… I totally haven’t kept track of my cycles anymore and this could be a sign that I need to be protecting my underwear soon.  Because The Red Crotch is, I’m pretty sure, not the latest fashion trend.

Right?

Waking for Braden

Last night I awoke, at about 4:30 am, to mildly-annoyed-baby-whine sounds. Listening to the monitor intently for a moment, tapping into that special Baby Sound Meanings-Deciphering Super Power us mommies have, I decided Braden must be half asleep, but missing his paci.Sometimes, the sounds say, “I miss my paci… but it’s not a big deal, and in a few seconds, I’m gonna murmur off, back into deep sleep without it.” When they say that, I roll over and go back to sleep.

Sometimes the sleepy sounds say, “Uh-oh. I miss my paci. While I sound pretty deep asleep still, right now, if it doesn’t jump in my mouth soon, things are going to change pretty quickly.” When they say that, I’ve learned to get up quickly, walk quietly, search furtively, find the paci and plug the hole.

Of course, sometimes they say, “OMG, I’M NOT GOING TO MAKE QUIET, SLEEPY SOUNDS AT ALL! I JUST WOKE UP, MY PACI IS GONE, AND WE’RE GOING STRAIGHT INTO DEFCON-5! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those are the nights when I really, really wish I hadn’t given up the sweet, sweet alcohol. (Because getting drunk while rocking a child back to sleep for the next seventy-eleven hours is a good idea. ? )

So, anyway, while I was standing by his crib reaching into the corner to retrieve The Paci, the soft glow of his crib-side light gave me one of those sweet glimpses of my Nighttime Braden. He was nestled near the corner of the crib right next to me, on his back, sleepily rubbing at one eye, with both eyes still shut. His blonde hair was falling back softly from his forehead. He had that, “I’m an angel in dinosaur pajamas” look. I sighed as I put the paci back into his little mouth, and listened to his sleepy, happy sucking sounds.

Back in bed, I spoke to him in my head for a few minutes.

“Braden, you have amazed me just recently.

I can’t believe how much you JUST changed on me again. I can’t believe how often you are talking to me, and that you’re asking me QUESTIONS!

I can’t believe that you can RUN and point at things and ask me, “Ish?” (this?) and “Wah-DAHT?”

I can’t believe that you spit out large paragraphs of garbled baby-language about the things I identify for you.

Braden, I’m just amazed by you and I don’t know how to tell you that. I still can’t believe that God decided to let you live with me.

But, you know what, Braden?

I hope He never changes His mind.”