Here is my new car. My husband and I don’t relish the new car experience like most people because for us it’s a real pain in the ass. When you are a dwarf, you just can’t drive your new car off the lot. So here is my new car sitting at the dealership for another two weeks. We have to coordinate dates between the dealership and the specialty garage to have my pedal extenders installed. It is a crappy situation and one where a lot of begging and pleading occurs.
For many legal reasons, dealerships no longer install the pedals. If I was more mechanical I would install them myself. The friggin extenders just clamp onto the existing pedals. It takes all of fifteen minutes to do. Since we live in a country of flying lawsuits, dealerships do not want to be responsible if you drive off of the lot and get into an accident. Thus you have to wait for your car and sign away your life in order to get your pedals installed.
This is why my husband and I only go for a new car every ten years. Don’t even get me started on how long it takes you to find right combination of pillows and seat adjustments. That takes another two weeks.
What motivated me into buying a car was accessibility. In my old hatchback I had a string attached so I can easily pull down the door. One day the string broke and I was stuck in the Target lot with my car wide open. A good samaritan came to my rescue and closed it for me. From that point on, I couldn’t use my trunk unless Ashley was with me.
My new car has a power tailgate! YEA! The salesman was trying to point out the finer points of the car like the leather interior and the navigation. While he kept giving his sales pitch, I stood in the back of the car raising the tailgate up and down, up and down, up and down. Finally the salesman gave up talking and said ‘Is the power tailgate the only reason why you are buying the car? I almost blurted out ‘No kidding Sherlock’. Instead I politely said ‘Yes’.
So I am sitting here waiting for my cool power tailgate automobile. Hopefully the wait will not be much longer. Thanks for listening to my rant.
I thought I would weigh-in on the controversy surrounding Rosie’s interview with Chelsea Handler. I for one was not insulted by Rosie’s honesty. At least she was able to admit that she has ‘dwarf fear’ instead of acting like it doesn’t exist. In my life I have encountered people with ‘dwarf’ fear. You can tell by their eye contact and facial expressions that they would rather be running as fast as they can away from you rather than having to deal with a dwarf.
Dwarf fear is just having a fear of the unknown. When I lived in Pittsburgh, every time I would go into the local Dunkin Donuts you could hear jaws dropping and eyes bulging out the local’s heads. It was like time would stand still and I was the time keeper. Sometimes it was so weird that I was usually allowed to cut line so they can get me the hell out of there as quickly as possible. It was rather cool to have this power to move people in Dunkin Donuts especially on a cold busy morning. It was also rather insulting that these people who live 20 miles outside of a major metropolitan area never encountered a dwarf before.
Now dwarf fear isn’t limited to service people you encounter like the waitress that serves your meal or the plumber who can’t wait to get the hell out of your home as fast as he can. It can also happen to family friends. My mother-in-law had a neighbor who was terrified of us. She would run out of the house when she would hear our voices or see us come through the door. It started to be comical to me and my husband. Sometimes we would say ‘hello’ just to time how long it takes her to come up with an excuse to go home.
My mother-in-law denied what was going on when we asked her. She said that the neighbor just doesn’t want to intrude on our visit. My mother-in-law just sees life through rose colored glasses. She is one of those half full type of gal. I am more cynical than she is, especially when there is a party and the neighbor goes ‘Oh your son is here’ and then runs out the door.
What eventually got this neighbor over her fear was normalcy. Normalcy that she was able to relate one of her life experiences to our life. When we adopted Ashley and became parents something clicked. Parenthood was what she could relate to. She was lovely to our daughter.Soon after Ashley came, she started talking to us about parenthood. Eventually her fear was banished. She finally saw us in a light that she could understand. We were parents just like she. We had all the same issues with raising a child. We had a connection that lead to an understanding. Now when we visit, she talks our ears off about everything in her life! I think I liked the other way better. I kid you really I do.
What Rosie needs is some positive experiences with the dwarf community. If she can see we are just like everyone else, just short, her fear will go away. Human contact goes a long way in breaking down perception and stereotypes. All people need is to see you are a real person. A real person with the same problems and fears like they have. Normalcy is the key to breaking down the fear of the unknown.
Rosie come over to my house. We will have a blast! I make a mean spaghetti and meatballs. We can go shopping afterwards. I am sure after you meet me, you never again have ‘dwarf’ fear again.
My partner in-crime and I were out most of the day on Tuesday. In our travels we decided to go to lunch at a common seafood restaurant that begins with the letter ‘R’. I have successfully eaten at this establishment in the past so I was not concerned about my food allergy I have to lobster. The broiled fish I had must have touched lobster in the cooking process. Two hours after we got home, I was sick to my stomach about another hour later I was in the bathroom. My allergy doesn’t cause shock (thank God) but I do get very very sick to my stomach. Let’s just say nothing stays in me! I was so sick that it lasted most of yesterday. I feel a little better today. This has only happened to me 5x in my life.
The last time it happened was when hubby and me planned a romantic evening out. Grandma was keeping our daughter over night and we had reservations in a swanky Charleston hotel. To surprise me, Rich made reservations at a 5 star restaurant. It was a wonderful restaurant. The kind that has maitre’d that seats you and pours the water. One problem with this lovely restaurant, Almost everything contained LOBSTER. I did find a shrimp entree that looked safe. I should have known better when I asked the waitress if it contained any Lobster and she replied ‘I don’t think so’. The last romantic thing we did that night was walked hand-in-hand back to the hotel. By the time we got out the room key, I had to make a mad dash to the bathroom! I mean it was like scene from the Exorcist.Every thing was spinning out of me. Needless to say romance went out the window that night. It is hard to be romantic to a girl who is kneeling to the porcelain god never less wanting to kiss her afterwards. Poor Rich, all that money spent and nothing in return! He was bummed that I was sick as well as concerned. It was a long night for both of us and not the way it was planned.
Things were not that bad the other day. Next time I have to be more careful where I eat and avoid any restaurant that has a picture of a lobster as its’ logo. How dumb was that?
My mid-life crisis officially started last month when I turned 48. As many who turn the mid-century mark, you wonder ‘where the hell did time go?’. In my mind, I am still at St.Aedans getting yelled at by Sister Catherine for standing too long by the pencil sharpener. Sister Catherine frowned upon socializing while sharpening. I was always guilty of the crime.
I still look somewhat the same from my college days and feel the same inside. I play video games,watch Beavis and ButtHead and still love ‘fart’ jokes. I can’t help it, I am my dad’s child. In our family we lived for fart jokes.
Physically though I can’t say I am the same. I have more aches and pains than Bon Jovi in an Advil ad. By the way, did he sell out or what? My boobs have officially joined my stomach in becoming one with the universe. I can’t even have a glass of wine now without falling asleep.Back in my college days, I held my liquor with the best of them.
All my melancholy has been brought on by one blaring reason, middle school. Ashley will attend Middle School next year. Oh my God, she will be going to middle school! Boys with raging hormones, girls with short skirts and make-up and puberty sprouting all over the hallways. I can’t bear the thought of dances and texting. Why do they text so much anyway? Isn’t talking on the phone like we did much better?
She still plays with dolls and watches Spongebob. She thinks boys are cute as well as icky. I told her she is not allowed to kiss a boy until she is in college. For some stupid reason she agreed. The joke is on her! More likely the joke will be on me. She will probably break that one by the end of sixth grade. Oh god, smelly stinky boys(no offense to the mothers of boys, I give you permission to say the same about girls). I don’t think I will be able to handle this.
I have been a ‘helicopter’ mom for the past eleven years. When she was a toddler, I used the ‘kid leash’ because I was terrified of her getting away from me and I couldn’t catch her. I became homeroom mom to follow her when she started Kindergarten. I still drive her to school and when she is outside playing, I annoy her at least four to six times to make sure she is okay. I am not ready to let go. How am going to let go? If I am this emotional about middle school, can you friggin imagine how I will be when she leaves for college? I will probably grab her ankles and scream ‘Taking me with you’ while she tells me to stop embarrassing her. Don’t even mention the phrase ‘Drivers License’.
Do you think colleges will let me rent a room on campus? Oh never mind, just get me a bottle of wine. I am going to start drinking like it’s 1985!