Posts Tagged ‘foot in mouth’

Open Mouth

April 16, 2016

Insert foot.

Oh goodness.

Sometimes I just open my mouth and the stuff that falls out.

Heh.

Oh well.

I was told by a gentleman tonight that he would be traveling in Europe for the next three months, in case I missed seeing him around, not to worry.

I replied, “I find you so disarmingly attractive that I am almost grateful for the reprieve.”

Jesus, Carmen.

He’s like um, a child.

I think.

I am going to guess he’s about 15 years my junior, but my, so very pretty.

Oh, all the pretty boys, they do, well, do me in.

I also explained to a girlfriend who had asked after me when noticing I was a bit in a fluster that I was also ovulating.

Happened this morning.

Should have known when I woke late in the night to use the bathroom and I saw the moon setting blood red over the sea.

Just a little reminder that I am human, and a woman at that.

I am grateful for this body, even when it doesn’t act like I want or look like I think it should.

Which reminds me.

Go sign up for the 9 a.m. yoga class at Yoga Beach.

That’s the only time I have to do yoga tomorrow.

I have to meet my person in the Inner Sunset, do the deal, then hop over the Bay to a friend’s house in North Berkeley for her baby’s first year birthday.

Hard to believe it’s been a year since I went and visited her and the proud papa at the hospital with their gorgeous new born.

So grateful to get to take the time out of my schedule to see some friends and snuggle some babies.

I got some damn good snuggles from the boys I work with today, which sort of saved me.

I have had a few moments this past week wondering if it just might not be easier for me to work for a family that doesn’t work from home.

Sometimes I miss my days of autonomy and going to the park on my schedule and not being monitored.

But then I get the best love from the boys and it fades, the desire to look elsewhere for work (although damn, I do miss working with babies) with kids that still take naps and parents that don’t work from home, and I get the biggest hugs and melt.

I mean, I just melted a couple of times today with these boys.

First, at the park, the eldest laid down on the bench next to me and pillowed his head on my lap, and proceeded to tell me that he wasn’t hungry.

In fact.

His exact words were, “Carmen, you’re the best.”

Pause.

“I don’t need snacks, I just need snuggles.”

And then he just cuddled against me and we sat and watched the pigeons try to sneak up on the graham cracker crumbs from his brother’s snack.

And.

Tonight, as I was going to leave, the youngest, galloping out of the kitchen, arms wide open, “Carmen, I love you, I will miss you, I love you, pick me.”

“Of course I will pick you,” and I scooped him up and pressed him tight to my heart.

He laid his head in the nook of my neck and just stayed there.

We had the longest hug, he just didn’t want to let me go.

I left with my heart so full of love.

It was a good day.

Still a little challenging.

There was another play date and it too ran over, but there was more direction in the day and I was able to get a decent break and sit down and chill out for a few minutes before the onslaught began again.

I was done by six and scootered over to Church and Market.

I had plans.

All of them waylaid.

I was going to go grocery shopping.

But sometimes, I swear, Whole Foods, it was too much, too much money, too much attitude, too many people sampling things and frankly, the produce actually looked bad.

I said, screw this.

I left.

I went to get a manicure.

The salon was packed and couldn’t take me.

Ugh.

I wandered around Aardvark Books then went over to the Church Street Cafe and had a tea.

I sat in the big leather chair in the window and daydreamed.

It was good to just sit for an hour and tool around on my phone, no good Tinder updates, sorry, although I have to say sometimes I do wonder about the profiles, dude you are not 35, and if you are, you need to see a doctor because you are aging really poorly.

It’s mostly, nope, nope, nope, oh hell no.

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

Maybe.

Um nope, good first photo, second one pretty scary.

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

Oh, you’re cute.

Oh, wait, too many photos of you drinking, or smoking or 420’ing.

And I will ultimately “nope” you if I see the following: women in the photo–either you want to get down with me and your girlfriend or you’re too lazy to post a photo without your ex-girlfriend in it; kids, unless specified that I am cool Uncle “Jake” or some such thing, I don’t feel good about guys putting photos of the kids on a dating website that’s geared toward pretty fast hooking up, I mean, ok, use your cute dog–god damn that is a cute dog! But don’t use your kid to troll, um, gross.

Obvious lying about age, smoking cigarettes, posting in your profile that you really like to drink, yeah, it’s obvious, most guys under a certain age (although that didn’t stop me tonight, blush, blush, blushing), and every once in a while there will be a guy I know that I go, hey, yeah, I have always liked you.

But.

Inevitably I get either a. no response b. a jackass’ery response and a bad joke (are you serious?) c. an “I’m just on here for fun.”

What the fuck does that mean?

Whatever.

Next.

So this is all to say I don’t have any dates lined up for the weekend.

I do have friend time, yoga time, recovery time, and me time.

I’ll take it with much gratitude.

And fingers crossed, I’ll sneak in a manicure too.

Whatever happens, homework anyone, I will have fun.

Be light.

Be flexible.

Be loving.

Be.

Well.

Beloved.

 

 

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I cry “UNCLE”

December 13, 2013

“Uncle,” she said with her sweet little voice as we turned the second landing stairway heading toward the third.

I had the fold out stroller hanging over my right arm and my left hand just inches behind her back to spot her climbing the stairs.

Not quite two, and thank you very much, I will climb these stairs all on my own lady.

Her family is a visiting from all places not San Francisco.

Grandma and grandpa.

And Uncle.

Hot Uncle.

Cute ass uncle from Berlin.

Germany.

Insert sigh.

He’s sweet, cute, and intelligent, works on some amazing app that is going to help women screen breast cancer early without having to get mammograms, used to be based out of San Francisco and the work took him to Berlin, where he now lives and works, with frequent sabbatical to San Francisco.

Where he stays with his sister and brother in-law and his niece.

My little Thursday charge.

“My brother’s going to be in and out today,” the mom told me as she was preparing to leave the house this morning.

Alrighty then, I thought to myself with a secret inner smile, I do like that brother of yours, I met him the first time that I nannied for the family and he made an impression on me then.

Nice to know he’s visiting.

I could use a visit from your uncle, kiddo, I thought as I discarded my sweatshirt and got settled in for the day.

I gathered up my charge, put some warm clothes on her, prepared snacks for the road, and got myself a full water bottle and all the things one needs for a trip to the park.

Water.

Snacks.

Wet wipes.

Diapers.

Sand bucket and shovel.

Double check for keys, phone, and pacifier.

Ready, set, go.

Just as we were about to leave, Uncle came back.

I almost abandoned the trip to the park, but well, that would not have been doing my job justice and I figured I would see him later anyhow and perhaps have a chance to chat during nap time, which is what happened the last time we met.

We talked all nap time.

Which is how I know what I know, I am not just going on the “you’re cute” which he is, but he’s also interesting and bright and kind and that is all a compelling picture.

Once, maybe twice today I thought, out of the blue, “I could live in Berlin.”

God damn I love my brain.

Just a sick, sick puppy up there.

Suffice to say that it was a great day at the park, the sun came out, it actually felt warm, we had fun on the swings, the slides, the scuffling through leaves happened, we saw trains and chattered about birds and puppies and the moon and the sky.

I swung us into BiRite on Divisadero to pick up a bag of Stumptown Holler Mountain and some late season persimmons as well as an apple, a carrot, and a package of handrolled brown rice veggie sushi for lunch.

Then over to the Mill for an Americano from Four Barrel spiked with some almond milk.

Yum.

These are my Thursday treats.

Lunch and a few groceries from BiRite, then the Americano from the Mill–which is a treat to go into anyhow since it smells of fresh-baked bread at all times–and the pleasure of actually having down time when my charge sleeps.

I haven’t had a break with the boys for weeks now, their nap schedules are so not synced up.

“Almost there,” I said to her as we got back to her house and I folded up the stroller to haul up the three flights of stairs.

Thank God she is old enough to climb on her own, I wouldn’t have a problem carrying her and the stroller, I am strong enough and have done so on previous occasions, however, with the shoulder still in recovery mode I am loath to carry any extra weight with it then I need to.

“Doing good, lady bug,” I said as she rounded the first flight and headed toward the second.

“Uncle!” She said excitedly.

“Yup, Uncle should be home, which is fine by me,” I said with a low laugh my hand directly behind her, “he’s pretty cute.”

And right there in front of us, just coming down the steps from the third floor.

No, not Uncle.

Thank God, I would have fallen backward down the steps, but it was Dada.

“Dada!” She hollered.

“Uncle,” Dada said, with a big smile in his voice, “is not home, honey, he’s out with mama and Opa and Ama (grandpa and grandma), Uncle will be back later this afternoon.”

Oh sweet Jesus, fuck me.

Insert foot into mouth here.

“Hi!” I said brightly, blustering onward, “we just got back from the park!”

“I know,” the dad smiled, “I got your photos, they are awesome, thank you, I was just headed out to pick up some lunch.”

Dad works at home.

“You go ahead,” he gestured to me, “I’ll follow with her.”

I hauled the stroller up past him trying to keep my form.

Trying to hide the blush on my cheeks.

Jesus.

All I could do was wonder if dad told mom told Uncle all afternoon long.

I half hope yes and half hoped, please God no.

In the end, it does not matter since Uncle is getting on a jet plane and flying back to Berlin tonight.

But in the few hours before that happened I did feel quite giddy and silly and giggly and that is rather fun, sort of forgotten how that feels.

Girlish and sweet.

“Are you here for Christmas,” I asked him as I was putting on my shoes to go my way at the end of the day.

“Berlin,” he said, just a touch ruefully I would like to think, “I am hoping for a white Christmas.”

“Oh, so pretty, I imagine it must be extraordinary,” I paused, “I had one last year, wait, no it didn’t snow until after Christmas, but it was so pretty.”

I thought about Paris in the snow and how amazing it was to walk across the Seine and see the Eiffel Tower glittering under the fat white flakes that sloughed down from the heavy grey bunched sky.

“Where were you?” He asked.

“Paris,” I said, “it was so beautiful when it snowed.”

Memories of midnight mass at Sacre Couer on Christmas Eve flooded me.

“That’s right!” He exclaimed, “you were there working on your book, how’s that coming?”

“Oh, you know, not, but I am beyond grateful that I went and did it, it was a huge growth experience, the getting the book ready for publishing actually takes longer than writing the thing did, who knows when it will happen.”

“It will happen,” he said with a smile.

I set my foot down, shoe laces tied, double bunny eared bows to keep them out of the chain on my bicycle, I hitched up my messenger bag and looked him full in his eyes, “safe travels,” I said and turned toward the door.

“It was really nice to see you again,” he said leaned against the kitchen doorway.

It was nice to see you again too.

And now back to surfing the I am single channel.

With nary a regret.

I did have a crazy thought to relay the message to the mom to pass on my number to her brother, but I may be a crazy lady on a one speed riding around like my ass is on fire in San Francisco, but please, I am a professional.

Idiot, most of the time, I think, but a well intentioned idiot.

One who, though turning 41 in six days, is still learning how to date.

Anyone care to help me out with that one?

Anyone know any cute Uncles?

My birthday is next Wednesday.


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