Tangled up in blue and pink

I'm not sure if it's because of the bipolar weather we've been having, or the blob/tumor enacting its dark magic on my hormones, or the imminent arrival of the full moon this week, but I am almost getting the impression that I'm acting like...a girl.

Dun-duh

Or someone who is so fearful of winter and its environs that she now feels even more like a rabid squirrel in a garbage can.

This morning, early, as the sun warmed my groggy face, the Sisco kid and I sat on the back steps and enjoyed our last moments as humans before the anvil of Monday came down on us. He sipped at the coffee we were sharing and looked down at my bare feet.

"Um, you know, that ankle bracelet is starting to make me think you're turning into a girl or something." He smiled over the rim of the cup. "Ya know, when we first met you carried an axe and wore wife beaters." Still smiling, he looked triumphant, like he might be responsible for my femininity or something.

I glanced down at the silver anklet adorned with pink shells remembering that after I put the thing on (sometime on Friday) I actually contemplated painting my toenails as well. I resisted the urge in favor of some mascara and lip gloss.

"Don't worry," I said, trying to sound cool; I think I might have even spit off the steps, "It's still there, tied to my knee."

He shook his head and smiled.

But, my god, what if he's right? What if I am losing my edge? The other night I started babbling about how we could get a tiny apartment in Rome and live out the rest of our days there after the kids were grown. I could blame the pain meds, but I hadn't taken any. What's next? Joint grocery trips, I'll-wash-you-dry dishes, decorating each other's rooms, imaginary house hunting?!

Apparently I need a little ride back into reality, and thank you to Lucian and Anna for providing just such a ride. Lucian wasn't off the bus more than 5 minutes before I had to threaten his mortal existence if he didn't leave his sister alone. And Anna wasn't off the bus more than 5 hours before she came clean about why she had to stay in for recess (I'm still working out the details of that punishment).

And, of course, she arrived with a booger clogged nose and the announcement that her dad might let her ride her bike BY HERSELF to a friend's house next week.

Over my dead f*cking body, man.

Did I mention that Lucian's nosebleeds are back in season. Fortunately, though, I've wised up to their patterns so that there won't be any more hysterical CAT scans and Google MD research. Now it's just an ice pack and me pinching the top of his nose until the thing clots up.

"Wow, mom, you pinch harder than Dad, and you can even hold the ice pack on my neck at the same time."

Amazing, isn't it? I think I'll clean my Leatherman and read some John Irving tonight to get my mind right.