Miss Tricky Takes Over

Well since Mr. President has been gone all weekend (and therefore not providing me with any hilarity for my blog), you guys are all stuck hearing some more about the Spawn. I just dropped him off at daycare, which he calls “The baby house”, and we are all trying to figure out whose kid that was. Normally every morning is the same. He says he wants to go, I get him dressed and then during the 3 ½ minute drive there he gets possessed by demons and starts screaming about how he is “NOT GOING!!!!!!” He screams and wails, I drag him into the house and generally he spends the first 10 minutes of his day in time-out for throwing such a fit. We wash, rinse and repeat the same show on the way home. It’s good to have a routine, right? Well….not this morning. He pranced right in, took off his shoes and looked around for toys. The entire staff just stared at him. Miss Tracy came down the stairs asking if he was acting out and was answered by several, stunned no’s.

“What?!?” she said, while swinging him up in the air and tickling him, “who is this child? What is your name little boy?”

He was laughing and waving bye to me as I left. Now why can’t the little turd figure out that this is way more fun and do it everyday?!? Maybe he was just excited to go today since he’s been alone with me for the past three days…

Which reminds me, I am spoiled. I truly thought that I was going to combust on Friday night because I missed my squeeze so damn much. How dumb is that? We spent the first 10+ months of our relationship 300 miles apart and he had only been gone about 4 hours when I started to want him back. Maybe it was the juxtaposition of him being in western P.A. while I stayed in his place on the eastern end, a bizarre role reversal to be sure. Maybe it was simply because after a month of having a team mate in The Spawn war and someone to have a real conversation with around, I started suffering severe withdrawals. Isn’t it funny how quickly we grow accustomed to things? Luckily, the feeling only lasted Friday night. By Saturday I was back in my lone wolf groove and by Sunday I had even started to like it a little. I don’t know how this man tolerates me.

This afternoon I am off to a job interview at a lovely restaurant that I think I would very much like to work for…I expect all of you to have each and every part of your anatomies crossed for me all day long. If everything goes according to plan I will greet my returning squeeze this evening as a gainfully employed woman!

I think I’m going to go make today my bitch.

It occurred to me today that approximately 60% of my relationship with Mr. President has taken place through text messages. This is an entirely new phenomenon for me since the last time I was starting a relationship texting was just starting to happen. It’s kind of weird. When we first started dating? Can you call it that when you’ve only met once and live 300 miles away from each other? Anyway, when we first started whatever we spent hours on the phone at least twice a week…talking about everything until the wee hours. But eventually I realized that I get really, really tired when I am up past ten more than once in a week and texting took over. The old me would have declared text conversations unacceptable in dating and would have mercilessly mocked any relationship that took place in that way. The old me was kind of a bitch. A bitch who didn’t know two things: One, since I had a kid pretty much all of my phone conversations go like this…

 Hello? (Maaaaaawmyyyy)

What? (Don’t talk mawmy)

Ow. Stop it Spawn! Hold on…

>Mommy is talking, go play with something<

Okay, I’m sorry-you were saying? (MMAAAAAAAAAAAWMYYY!!)

I have to go.

 And two; texting just might be the answer to long distance relationships. A big part of being a couple is not talking, but just being around to comment on things or touch them in passing to express your presence and affection without having tons to say. I am one brilliant, funny and engaging bitch but even with a partner as inspiring as I am sometimes you just don’t have shit to talk about. Enter texting. Mr. President and I have enjoyed multiple mini-conversations a day for about ten months now. We can say good morning, share funny thoughts, make fun of each other and have random “I love you” moments when they occur to us; how great is that? No pressure to fill an entire phone conversation when all I wanted was to know he was there… like a smile from across the room when we’re each doing our own thing. It means I get to carry him in my pocket during all those weeks we are apart.

 The old me was dumb, my new boyfriend kicks ass. I think I’ll go send him a text that says so…