Megan Stielstra's Blog

Nick says I have to list five things that some people may consider "lame," but I, despite the possible stigma, am totally proud of.

For the record, I consider myself pretty lame in general and how can I limit the list to just five? But here goes:

ONE
I talk to my dog as though he were a human. Also, I narrate his inner monologue aloud. Also, Christopher and I sometimes communicate through him (“Mojo, tell your mother to turn down the television”) and also I think he has superpowers. Dog people reading this will understand what I’m talking about, non-dog people will probably think I’m crazy, and everyone will think I’m crazy when I admit that over the past few months, I’ve compared raising my child to raising my puppy.

(I’m still not sure if I should be admitting that last part because I’m sure to get all sorts of “friendly explanations” in the comments about how children and dogs are different. Thank you, but it’s really not necessary. I understand that my child will be different from my dog. For example, I saw my child on the ultrasound last week and he has only TWO legs, and—get this!—I read in anatomy books that he’ll walk UPRIGHT).

TWO
I watch really bad movies. I watch good ones, too, but for the most part it’s high-action exploding ninja vampires with genetic disasters trying to explode Los Angeles. Last week, Jeff and I watched Resident Evil and Resident Evil II in the afternoon and then went to the theater for Resident Evil III (I wondered, at one point, if my kid, deep in utero, could hear the six straight hours of zombie movie soundtrack, like those parents who play their unborn children Beethoven so it’ll be smarter, which, of course, I’ll end up doing. Beethoven, and also classic rock and good electronica and probably hip-hop since both his dad and I are (ahem) rhythmically challenged so any heads-up we can give him would be much appreciated). If you go into my netflix account you’ll see Underworld I and II, Die Hard I through IV and Seasons four, five and six of 24 back-to-back. This disturbs my husband to no end, and he’s retaliating with Out of Africa, Babel, and The English Patient, all of which are award-winners and far superior in script, scope, artistry and cinematography to anything I bring into the house; in short, they are awesome. My husband is awesome. He has kick-ass taste. What I have are stacks and stacks of writing to read, for my students and 2nd Story, plus books and books and books, and sometimes I have to just shut down my brain and watch some schlock. Some high-action schlock. With vampires. And nuclear explosions set to go off in four minutes if Jack Bauer doesn't get there in time.

THREE
ME: What’s something lame about me?
CHRISTOPHER: Is this a trick question?
ME: Nick tagged me with a q-and-a thing.
CHRISTOPHER: Oh. In that case, you hate the Bears.
ME: I hate bears?
CHRISTOPHER: THE Bears. The bears the football team the Bears? And you call yourself a Chicagoan.
ME: I didn’t know I hate the Bears.
CHRISTOPHER: You do.
ME: Do I hate the Bears or am I ambivalent to the Bears?
CHRISTOPHER: I DO NOT WANT TO GET INTO A DISCUSSION ABOUT THIS YOU ASKED ME FOR SOMETHING LAME HATING THE BEARS IS LAME.

(two hours later)

ME: I don’ think I have feelings either way about Bears.
CHRISTOPHER: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ME: OKAY! I’M DROPPING IT!

FOUR
I have this pair of sweatpants. They're four years old and splattered with paint and full of holes, including holes in the butt, and Christopher keeps nicely suggesting that maybe I get some new ones and I just can't 'cause they're the most comfortable thing in the Universe. And then I start thinking about stereotypical gender roles and how I'm the one who should be making him get rid of schkeevy old clothes but really, he doesn't have any, he's always very well put together even when he's slumming around, and then I want to go shopping, and get a pedicure, and new shoes and a coat and blue pashmina wrap.

But not new sweatpants.

FIVE
I’ve drank nearly two gallons of Gatorade in the past four days.