Tammy Thingelstad

Mazie has joined her first social club.  It’s called “The Kate Club” and it’s quite exclusive.  You must be a girl, garner an invitation, and you must be willing to “eat” a leaf before you join and every day after that.  The club members call it “eating a leaf” but really all you do is put it in your mouth, chew it up, and spit it out.  The club meets during recess and focuses on chasing boys and doing what Kate says.  The club is named after Kate since she started it and so it only makes sense that she would instruct other members about what they should be doing while the club is in session.

I’m loving this club.  I’m thinking about starting my own Tammy club where each day we drink a mommy beer and chase men…and of course, do what I say.

Mazie loves stories; I guess most people do.  She usually requests stories from when I was a kid.  It’s always interesting to try and remember way back when and it’s fun too, so Mazie frequently gets her wish.

She has a few favorites, like when I got knocked unconscious after sledding off a jump and landed on a parked car on Christmas Eve, or the time my friend and I were playing in the attic without my mom’s knowledge and my friend tripped coming out of the attic into my closet ceiling and broke her nose.  I thought she should just brush it off, clean up, and no one would ever know.  After all, we were supposed to have a sleep-over that night and I knew all of the blood would probably result in a cancellation.

There was the time I pooped in the swimming pool, because I was having so much fun and didn’t want to get out and ruin my good time.  Of course what I didn’t know then that I quickly found out was that poop doesn’t magically disappear like pee in a pool.  Instead the poop starts “swimming” all on its own, the pool is evacuated and has to be drained and cleaned.  Oops.  Another Mazie favorite is the time I pooped out the window of my upstairs bedroom because my parents were busying showing the house to potential buyers and they were all camped out in the bathroom and I really had to go.  Seriously, I don’t know what was wrong with me; I was a gross kid.

There are lots and lots of stories and they generally break down into two categories, painful things or embarrassing things.  Mazie doesn’t seem to have a preference for either type of story, she’s happy to revel in either my past embarrassment or pain.

The Michael Vorlicek story is one of the exceptions to this rule.  Michael Vorlicek was the first boy I ever “went” with.  We were both fourth graders at Forest Hills Elementary School.  A friend of mine approached me at recess one day and asked if I wanted to “go” with Michael.  Not knowing who he was, I wasn’t sure.  I asked some of my friends and they were all of the opinion that accepting Michael’s invitation was a good idea.  So I told my friend yes, she told Michael’s friend yes, Michael’s friend told Michael yes, and viola a romance was born.

I’m not sure how long we stayed together, but I’m guessing it was a brief affair.  Michael was nothing if not a gentleman.  He showered me with gifts.  His friends bestowed a massive heap of gum packs on me one day at lunch and I quickly became very popular.  His friends also brought me a large Valentine’s heart filled with chocolates on Valentine’s Day and a gold-colored necklace with three stars.  Michael was a generous guy, even if we never talked or looked at one another.  Such is the guise of fourth grade love.

I’m not sure what went wrong with our love tryst, but one day it fell apart.  In what I remember as our only face-to-face exchange, I said something rude, ripped the necklace off my neck, and handed it stiffly back to Michael.  Who knows, maybe he dumped me and started showering some other girl with goodies.  I just don’t remember.

What I do remember is that name, Michael Vorlicek.  It’s seared into my brain.  It’s on instant recall.  Sometimes I forget the name of a neighbor or an acquaintance, but I’m always on the ready with Michael Vorlicek.

I’ve never been a Jennifer Lopez person. I know who she is, I don’t live under a rock, but I couldn’t tell you the name of any of her songs, if she’s married, single, dating or really anything about her. She’s pretty and she’s a singer/actress, that’s all I know. However, I am a fan of American Idol even though it shames me to admit it.

Ever since I saw the first show, I was hooked. I many times hate the performances, but watching each week gives me satisfaction. The ritual of every January starting with all of the hopefuls, culling them down to a group of 24, then 12 and then a winner is fun for me. I like a lot of the singers that they have on the show, but I’ve never liked a single song that any one of them have released. They talk on the show about being unique and having your own take and spin on a song, but when the music comes out after the show is over, it’s always the same. Over produced ick, or at least to my tender ears it sounds like over produced ick.

But, none of this is the point. The point of all of this is an introduction into why my daughter knows who Jennifer Lopez is. This is Mazie’s first year watching American Idol. She doesn’t really care about the show and spends most of her time playing while the show is on, but this is the first show we have watched as a “family” and I’m grooving on the idea.

The one thing Mazie does love about American Idol is Jennifer Lopez. From the first moment she saw the show, she has been captivated by her. She refers to her as Ms. Jennifer Lopez. It’s freaking cute and I can’t help but to like Jennifer Lopez myself. I’m never going to be a fan of her music, but as she is my daughter’s first celebrity “crush”, I heart Jennifer Lopez.

Mazie is also in the process of learning to read and write. She’s not had much interest in either activity, but in the last month or two, she’s started to see the light. She now writes phonetically and that’s another freaking cute thing. I’m sure everybody’s kid does it, but it’s my first exposure and I’m digging the experience.

All of this back story is finally going to pay off: Here is the picture that she drew of Jennifer Lopez with included name at the top. I don’t often say these words, but you can quote me…it’s precious!