So I don’t know if talking to yourself, silently usually, is a sign (and not a good one probably) but I find myself repeating a few mantras daily to myself.  I think that mantras are usually supposed to be calming and inspirational.  Perhaps soothing and meaningful spoken during yoga or meditation.  But, I live in China and have a new puppy so my mantras are more down to earth, usually screamed and sometimes with accompanying rude hand gestures:

Mantra #1-usually spoken to China drivers:  I’d REALLY like to NOT die today!

Mantra #2-always spoken to Thor:  PLEASE do NOT pee on me.  SERIOUSLY.  You have vampire teeth.  STOP biting me.

Yes, this is my life and I like it.  It’s complicated, messy (literally with Thor) and challenging, just the way I want it to be.

First, as to the “not dying today” mantra, when you live in China and walk to work, by the time I hit the first crosswalk and the bus is gunning for me and the scooter I didn’t see going the WRONG WAY on the street touches me and the car is driving down the damn sidewalk instead of the street, I am usually making my pleas to God.  I’m REALLY not ready to go yet–places to see, family to take care of, blogs to be written, etc. Give me more time please.

Now, if I get hit in a crosswalk in China, I’m going down and I know it.  No bystanders will assist (not that people are mean here but they just don’t get involved) and no ambulance will come.  If I can’t limp or crawl to a taxi, which will never pick me up if I’m bleeding so why even try, then I’m toast.  Dead toast.  So, I’m nimble, look both ways and behind me to avoid getting hit and I pray ALOT.

Now on to Thor.  He really does have vampire teeth.  WHAT.  THE.  HELL.  When do those sharp little suckers drop out and he gets normal teeth?  Can’t come soon enough for me.

And he has a bad habit of peeing everywhere but the pee pads.  Yes, it’s a big apartment and he has little legs so maybe (and I’m giving him a HUGE benefit of the doubt here) he gets tired halfway to his room and he just has to let it go.  Okay but when he’s sitting on my lap all warm and cuddly and then I’m feeling a cold, wet sensation, that’s just not cool.  We had to take up all the rugs after he decided that they seemed like pee pads too and James stepped in poo on the kitchen rug.  While he was gagging, Thom scrapped the shit off his foot and washed it.  A dad’s job is never done!  Tough love Mom that I am, I would have told him to hop right on into the shower and wash it off himself. He’s 21 for God’s sake.   Guess that’s why Thom stayed home and raised the kids while I worked.  They are all the better humans for it.  Good job, Thom!

So, I’ll keep on dodging traffic and watching where I step, all the while repeating my mantras and enjoying this crazy life I lead.  Hallelujah!