The opposite of "funny"

I have been on a quest of Holy Grail proportions (apparently). For a couple of months now, I have been looking for a specific style of shoe. I recently came to the conclusion that what I wanted was so far out of style, it was time to start looking at used clothing stores. Today, I decided to take a trip to the Buffalo Exchange in Berkeley.

As I circled the block looking for a parking space, I noticed a Berkeley police officer behind me. Of course, I became the perfect driver - fully stopping for three seconds at each stop sign, being extra cautious of pedestrians, that sort of thing. I found an excellent parking spot right in front of the store, signal (of course), and pulled in. I looked down, put the car in park, and when I looked up again, I noticed that the cop was sitting next to me. He motioned for me to roll down my window.

Instantly on guard, and nervous, I began reviewing my driving for the last five minutes. I rolled down the window, and flashed my most innocent grin (no really, I have one, just ask my daddy).

"Good afternoon, ma'am"
"um.. hi"
"oh, don't worry, nothing to be nervous about."
"um... ok..."
"does your son go to [specific school name] in [specific town]"

At that point, I think he must have realized he'd said something wrong. Either that, or maybe he noticed that all the color drained from my face, and my eyes were filling with tears, as I stammered a Fully Freaked Out, "Yes." Because, suddenly, very quickly he began to explain:

"oh no, don't worry, everything is fine, my kid goes to school there too, I saw you this morning, and just thought it was a funny coincidence."

FUNNY?!
REALLY?!

Is this guy for real?!
I thought I was going to pass out.

no.
wait.
vomit. punch him in the face. then pass out.

I have never before in my life wanted to punch a cop. But, he totally would have deserved it.

Because, obviously my first thought was:

"OMFG what happened at my kid's school that a Berkeley cop tracked me down?!"

My next thought was:

"Cop or not, who is this guy who knows me, knows my kid, and knows where he goes to school... a cop as a stalker is probably NOT a good thing."

This is all quite different than trying to explain to security at faire why I don't have my passes with me, and him saying, "don't worry, I know you, go ahead."

Of course, to top it off, I couldn't find the shoes I wanted at that store.

I did however find something that falls into the category of "close enough" at a place in Emeryville. But, I'm thinking it may have been a purchase motivated by emotion. I really want to send a copy of this blog to the Berkeley PD, include a copy of the receipt, and let them know that retail therapy is a form of coping with mental distress... and they now owe me fifty bucks.

House Sitting Part II: Bring on the ShortBus (or: The Truth About Oral Fixation)

Babies are born with certain innate reflexes, and for the most part they go away between two and six months of age. Replaced by actual learned behaviors, once they begin to figure out the world around them, the innate 'reflex' behaviors disappear.

The Sucking reflex is one of those.

When the ShortBus was born, he had a couple of issues, and spent his first three days of life in the nursery under observation instead of with me in my room. I asked the nurses (multiple times even) to NOT give him a pacifier. I told them to call me if he was crying, any time day or night, if he was crying I would go and soothe him. That first night, I slept, and when I woke in the morning, I was shocked that no one had come to get me. So, I make my gimpy way to the nursery (pulled groin muscles are NOT fun), and walk in to see my precious little bundle of joy sucking away on a hunk of plastic.

Long story a little less long, I explained that my kid was not to have a pacifier, they tried to talk me into it, I stood my ground, and every time I left the room, they shoved one into his mouth. *grumble grumble kaiser grumble grumble* So yes, my son came home from the hospital with an oral fixation.

Around two years old, the "binky" became an "only while you are sleeping" thing. And, honestly, that transition went really smoothly - though, heaven help you if you didn't have it at bedtime.

The other night while house sitting for my parents, we lost it. When I say "we" I actually mean "he." When I say "lost," I actually mean "lost." Just like magic, one second he had it, the next it was gone, and though we both looked all over the house, it had apparently vanished into thin air.

The poor kid was heartbroken, but he managed to fall asleep without it. And, since he has only asked about it a couple of times a day (usually, first thing in the morning, and last thing at night). Over all, it has gone much more easily than I expected.

For Him.

Me? I've been dreaming about the stupid thing.

Two nights in a row now.

And, maybe that symbolism is a loss of childhood innocence. A bit of the old "my baby is growing up, and becoming more independent" syndrome. A little tugging at the heartstrings.

Or, maybe its because I haven't gone through his room yet to be absolutely sure they are all gone. To have gone through the sadness and heartbreak of this little 3 1/2 year old... only to have him find a binky and have to start all over again.

*sigh*

Sometimes, a pacifier is just a pacifier.

House Sitting

Mom and dad are out of town.

I'm sitting here trying to remember the last time I spent the night here by myself. Maybe 12 years ago? 13?

I don't know if it's reality, or television, or a combination of the two, but I seem to remember, in those days, them saying something along the lines of, "don't have any friends over." I don't remember them saying anything about drinking... but, I'm sure there was a lecture of some sort.

Funny that mom called earlier and said, "there's red wine in the cupboard, and... OH! I should have left you a bottle of champagne!" Interesting how things change, and yes, she SHOULD have left me a bottle of champagne.

There is a little part of me that wants to sneak out a window tonight, and go down to Lyon's and drink coffee till three in the morning. And really, it's not the part of me that finds water beds creepy... that part is destined to sleep on the couch tonight.

I'm just finding, that being alone, in a big house, with four cats... well, I'm closer to being the "crazy" cat lady than I thought. Interesting that after just a few hours alone, I end up sitting here talking to the cats. I'm wondering if the champagne would have had me talking to them more or less.