Tree Choad. (Or how to throw a fit when your 38)

choad

 As it stands, the word choad has three major definitions.

1) A short, fat penis that is wider than it is longer
2) The area between the scrotum/vagina and the anus.
3) A derogatory term used to insult somebody.

"Ducas has a fat choad."

"Last night your mom tongued my choad."

"Quit being such a choad."

It is almost October.

This is my favorite time of the year, not only do we get to celebrate Halloween, read Halloween books, wear Halloween inspired clothing and drink Halloween coffee...but in MY family, October 1st means that we make plans for the 'Other'  Holidays.

Eeeeeee! Holidays.
How I love them so.

The music, the smells, the lights. Ahhhhh
Encase you're wondering...I AM one of those people who end up on December 26th, trembling and teary eyed that Christmas is over... "But it happened so fast.." I always say.

How sad.

However, I am also the planner of the family, and after eating our weekly family dinner and catching up on everyone's week, I whip my phone out and demand "OKAY. Let's schedule pumpkins."

Brandee and I look at our calendars and decide which pay day is the best to visit Delosso Farms.
"That's not a payday, but the next pay day is too close to Halloween." She says.

I "Hmmmm" In response.

"I am working. I can pumpkin!" Shane volunteers.

"Yay! If we are broke Shane can pumpkin for us!" I exclaim

"No, we can save." Brandee says...like an adult.

We quickly schedule our pumpkin date and discuss which rides we will go on.

As I get ready to follow my children out the door I murmur to Brandee "Wish me luck with these two. I am like the BOTTOM of the totem pole when we are together."

Brandee wishes me luck, I squish Mandy's face to my boobs and I am out the door.

On the way home I am excited.

Filled with Glee even.

"OH CHRISTMAS!" I exclaim "I can feel you coming! We will have the BEST most AMAZING tree EVER!....Who's turn is it to pick our tree this year!?"

Shane claps with Glee "MINE!"

My stomach drops and I frown at him.
Shane has ALWAYS wanted the most depressing tree's at Christmastime. You know, the ones you feel sorry for. The ones with gaping holes or lopsided ones that cause you to look away so that you don't feel sorry for the tree. THOSE ONES.

"NO." I mutter

"YES!!!" He exclaims "And I am going to pick out the smallest, most chubby tree on the lot!"

"NO!" I gasp trying to still my sinking heart with my hands

"YES! It will be a tree choad!" He laughs manically which causes my daughter to laugh with him.

"But SHAAAAAAAAAANE! I don't WANT a tree choad!" I whine, which causes him to laugh even harder. His fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to keep the tears at bay.

"I know! I KNOW! But it is MY year and I want a tree choad!"

"Oh my god, and it will break in half when we put my shark ornament on it that Mandy got me." Emma chuckles in the back seat.

"But I want a big fat tree! I picked out the BEST tree!" I whined some more, trying to make them see it my way. LAST year was my year and our tree was magnificent!

"DO you mean the one that we had to cut a foot off of to fit in our house and it took us 5 HOURS to put up. THAT ONE?" Emma questioned

"YES! But wasn't it magnificent?" I whispered, still awed by my fat giant LOVELY tree.

"Well yeah...but you had to run to Walmart and buy a whole separate tree holder for it."

"But...well now we have one so Shane can pick out a giant tree!"

"NOPE!" Shane shook his head "I'm getting the choad and there is nothing you can do about it. It's MY TURN! Family rules."

He was still chuckling at me, even when I smacked him for it on his tummy.

By the time we got home, I was pouting (and stomping) Shane was STILL laughing and Emma was spinning around in circles, probably high with the knowledge that her mom was miserable.

Shane stopped on the front porch to our home and looked down on me walking up, " I'm over your tree choices! You know what Momma, your tree choices SUCK!"

I gasped appalled at anything that I have chosen sucking.

"The pink tree?" He questioned, his arms folded and his eyebrow raised.

"Well THAT was my divorce tree! I HAD to celebrate with pink tree icing and pink diamonds on top!"

"The tinsel tree?" Emma stood next to him, her eyebrow raised as well.

"AGH! That is a reminiscent of times past. IT SHINED so prettily!" I stomped up our front steps after them. Completely rethinking my decision to give birth.

"I don't understand why you two are Christmas ruining assholes! I am the best mommy EVER and have filled your lives with Christmas fucking joy. JOY!" I shouted and pointed to the sky.

I walked down the hallway, de-braing and stomping like a toddler.

Behind me I heard "Oh my. Mommy is so mad." Then laughter.

Lots of laughter.

"If those beasts think I am going to have a choad tree, they have another thing coming." I murmured to Karma.

She snorted (Which in Karma speak means: THOSE BASTARDS!)  and I was happy that I had ONE family member who would not be getting coal for Christmas.

Looking for cows.

A few months back, while sitting in the passenger seat, my stomach growled and Shane let out a laugh.
He was still learning how to drive and each day after I clocked off at work, I headed to Tracy to pick him up....


"Hungry?" He smiled

"Yes, and I am going to die from it. COMPLETELY DIE!" I huffed and crossed my arms.

"OHHHH MYYYY MOMMMYYYY" He singsonged at me peppered with chuckles and headshakes.

He always does that when I throw a fit.

"It is almost 7:30 and I found a turd on my classroom floor today....A TURD!"
"A surprise turd."

"Yes! And now it's late and I am so hungry that I want to eat your giant baby man face off!"

He gasped fake-appalled at my threat of eating his face, and chastised me accordingly. "How sad to YOU. I am not speaking to you for 3 MINUTES!"

My mouth dropped open "3 MINUTES?! But I barely even threatened eating your giant face, just barely!"

3 minutes was a lot in our family, usually it was 10 seconds of the silent treatment in which we would pout, apologize and be forgiven.

1 minute in: "I hardly think that is worth 3 minutes!"

2 minutes in: "I am so sad at YOU! How sad to YOU!"

2 min 35 seconds in: "I'm sorry for threatening to eat your face."

3 minutes exactly "I hope you have learned your lesson! I forgive you."

"That was HORRIBLE."

"I know. That is what you get. Now....look out the window Mama."

"What!? NO! I have to look forward and make sure we don't die..or worse...hit some gravel."

"Gravel IS death." Shane mimicked one of my driving lessons

"Precisely."

"We are fine momma, relaaaaax...Look out the window. Look for COWS!"

I snorted and smiled at him. "You remember that?"

He nodded and smiled. It made my heart happy.

When Shane was small, we drove around a lot. And no matter where we went, we would tell him "Look out the window Shane! Look for Cows!" He eagerly would for a minute or so and then makeup incredible places that he had spotted the mooing mammal.

On Car drives, or in waiting rooms we would play I-spy, sing along to Vegi-tales or make up stories together.
As he got older he would draw and then regail us with stories that went along with his pictures. (These usually involved Luigi in some way.)

On my keychain I had a itsy bitsy checkers set, and in my purse were spare pens and pads of paper for tic-tac-toe.

I took him everywhere with me. The DMV, Gynecological appointments (he would count behind the curtain to 100) and every kind of shopping imaginable.

After Emma was born, our travel time continued the same. We did have a DVD player in our car for long trips, but more often then not it was off and the whole family would sing along with Larry the Cucumber's 'GOD is bigger then the boogy man'
(10 years later and I can still sing every word.)

It is intriguingly sad to me, how often I see children walking along with their parents, clutching a cell phone or an IPAD.
I want to stop them and implore them to turn off the machine and enjoy their child.
Technology is everywhere, and I GET that I sound old when I shake my head at an opportunity to have touchscreens in my classroom.
APPS are amazing!
APPS can teach the children so much!"

I prefer human connection and verbal teaching styles. Computer APPS are perhaps an invention for the now while I, and my feelings about them are befitting of the past.

Old I know.

I scrunch my nose even now as I type this.

I always say that the most important thing in life, is to make memories....but after Shane's remark about cows I realized that it is even more important to be IN them.

Shut off your phones. Take a walk, sing a song and for my sake, wherever you go keep your eyes peeled for cows.

Castaway and Cold cream.

"Hey girl, Damn you look good. I know you just turned 38 but you don't look a day over 25." I gushed.

No I was not talking to my bestie.

I was talking to my vagina.

Being single means a great many things.

It means I get to stretch out on my bed kitty corner.

It means I get to read all day and not listen to anyone bitch to me about lack of attention, but more importantly it means that I can let my vagina resemble Tom Hanks face circa Castaway. (albeit a blond one thankyouverymuch)

This morning after lazing about in my bed and binge watching Sherlock Holmes I decided it was time for my weekly beautification ritual. Which means: soaking in a scalding hot bath infused with bath salts and bubbles up to my chin.
Also today, I decided, was a good day to check in on my vagina. You know, see what's good.
(Being single ALSO means I don't pay as much attention to her as I did when I was shackled.)
Poor Vagina.

Since the age of time, boys have always wondered what we do behind closed doors, The truth is
every bit as alarming as your imagination.
We soak in scalding hot water, we scrub out bodies (using imported sugar scrubs) and we apply ointment that aids in the sloughing off of dead skin to our feet and elbows.

Yes, we women wouldn't be as soft as we are without working for it.
My personal secret is simple and was passed down to me by my grandmother. Cold cream.

VAGINA TIP: The next time you shave your bagina bits, apply cold cream, let it sit for a good 5 minutes and rinse.
You will thank me. (And your vagina will feel like a silk.)

As amazing as cold cream is, it is a hard find. I had ran out a few weeks prior and was searching the shelves like a mad woman, squatting down and reading boxes and jars aloud...just to see if I had skipped over it in my previous 2 searches.

"Can I help you?" A woman stood to my right

"Yes. Cold cream?" I looked up at her and squinted my eyes

"Hmmm. Cold cream?" she questioned. Her eyes flickering between me and the shelf.

I sighed in irritation. Mostly because I had gotten this same reaction at both Target AND CVS.

"There is face cream." She grabbed a box and held it up

"That is not cold cream." I stated

"I've never even heard of cold cream." She muttered beneath her breath.

"OBVIOUSLY." I huffed, staring at her unsoftened skin.

But just then I saw it at the very very bottom next to the mineral oil.

COLD CREAM!!!!!!!!!! It exclaimed (In my grandmothers leathery voice)

"HA!" I held it in my hand before lovingly rubbing it against my heart. I grabbed two just for good measure.

Which leads me to my bath, and speaking lovingly to my vagina this morning.

"You should be in pictures!" I exclaimed to my vagina in the mirror and then I clothed myself and headed out to finish my Sherlock Binge.

Emma came up to me and rubbed my arm. "You are so soft. What is it. What do you use?"

I squinted at her, and decided that I should let her in on my little secret.
I left the vagina tip out.
For now.