My sister and I have been reading this book, which is mostly about being yourself, loving who you are, and loving who others are. It’s pretty great, and pretty funny (you can find it here). A recent chapter discussed some of the author’s quirks, and it got me thinking about some of the things that only people who know me really well would know about me. I’m kind of a weirdo, so these are but a few of the many things that make me strange and unusual.
1. I get immersed in books, shows and movies.
The mere fact that I am writing this blog post is testimony to this. I get hooked on something I’m watching or reading, and jump into it completely. I’ve been known to finish a book in a day, if its a good one (and obviously, before I had kids). But sometimes I get so immersed in it, that I actually start thinking in the manner that the people in the book or show talk. For example:
Call the Midwife (with English accent) – I say, this watermelon is bally enormous. I haven’t the foggiest how I shall get it home. I daresay I will need a good Horlicks after that feat. Never the matter, one must do one’s best.
Gilmore Girls (in warp speed) – Woah, that watermelon is bigger than Paul Anka’s head! I’d need a van the size of Emily’s ego to get that thing home. Ugh, there is never a good manservant around when you need one.
Behold! What mammoth fruit of the earth is this?! Methinks it is akin to the great leviathan of the sea! Oh what tragedy shall befall me whence I labour under this great burden! (Sadly, I don’t think in iambic pentameter)
Basically any legal drama –
Imaginary lawyer in my head: And what time was it when you saw the watermelons, Mrs. Weinmaster?
Me: It was 3 pm when I saw the watermelons. I had checked my phone as I walked in to the store.
Imaginary lawyer in my head: And are you in the habit of checking the time while you do your groceries?
Me: Well, no, but I was expecting a text from my sister, so I had checked my phone, and when I looked up, I saw the watermelons.
Imaginary lawyer in my head: And can you comment on the size of said watermelons?
(Curiously, I am never the lawyer in these thoughts, but always the one being deposed. I sometimes wonder what this means about my personality.)
And etc, etc, etc. I could go on, but I think you get the point. Once, when I had been watching a lot of police dramas at the same time as reading a book about an FBI agent, I saw a big brown van pulling up to a house across the street, and I kid you not, my first thought was, “Shoot, SWAT is here. I better get the baby downstairs.”
2. I love baby thighs
I mean, I absolutely ADORE baby thighs. The rollier, the better. I am overcome with the desire to squish said thighs, all the while exclaiming my sheer joy in much too high a tone of voice. This is the best part of having my own baby, as I find it’s a bit awkward trying to do this to someone else’s child. Especially if they aren’t somehow related to you.
My little babe has wonderfully rolley thighs, which get squished and praised at every opportunity. Summer, and the subsequent rompers, are a delight for the sole reason that I have better opportunity to squish those thighs.
To be honest, though, this isn’t really about the thighs. Pretty much any chunky part of a baby gets the same treatment. Chubby cheeks, the little pudgy spots on a wrist, an especially round tum. So much chunk to squish!!
3. I’m shy
This might come as a surprise to some, as I think in recent years I have learned to overcompensate for my shyness by being excessively friendly. In high school, I was so shy it almost killed me to ask for my own ticket at a movie theatre, or order my own food. I would beg my friends to do it for me, and just give them the money. This shyness often came across as snobbishness. I remember one specific occasion when a guy at school asked me if I had ever taken voice lessons. Dying inside, I kinda half laughed, shrugged and said, “No way!” My inner dialogue said, As if I could ever be good enough to take voice lessons! But later, as I reflected on his puzzled look at my response, I realized it must have sounded like I thought I was too good for voice lessons.
To be fair, I think I have genuinely overcome some of this shyness. Nursing requires you to get up close and personal with someone, and you don’t always have the time to get to know them first. I find myself more and more being the one to strike up a conversation with the cashier at Walmart…
I’m turning into my mother.
4. I think baby toots are super cute.
Ok, so this may be reserved to my babies only, and I suspect that it will not last beyond the sweet years of toddlerhood for either of my boys. But these days, any time one of them lets one go, it just makes me giggle. I can not help it. This of course, has created a culture in which all toots are celebrated and laughed at in my household. A culture which I am sure to regret at some point. But that is then, and this is now.
5. I hate working out
HATE, HATE, HATE. I hate sweating, I hate feeling like I’m going to die, I hate not being able to breathe. Hate it. I still do it, though you wouldn’t know it to look at me, almost everyday of the week. But because I hate it so much, I find myself getting inordinately angry at the workout people in my video. I’ve been doing this one specific workout video for some time, so I pretty much have the monologue memorized. There is this one part in the video where the leader messes up the time count and you end up getting only 10 seconds of rest between banded punches instead of 20, and every single time I have to resist the urge to kick the screen right in his face. I mean really?!?! You’re not even doing the workout, you’re just keeping track of the time, and you can’t even do that right!!!! You try doing it again with only ten seconds of rest, you little you! And as if you couldn’t have edited the video somehow to make up the 10 seconds so as not to make someone swear in front of their toddler!!!!!
Ok, I have never actually sworn at the computer, but it’s been close, and on more than one occasion I have been asked, “Mama, why you don’t like that guy?”
So there you have it. Five little things that make me who I am.
And now, I simply must go see about that cup of Horlicks.
(Note: I have no idea what Horlicks actually is, but in my world, it’s a nice cup of sweet coffee).