I'm sitting up front at work and there is NO ONE in the lobby and NO ONE calling on the phone and NO ONE needing to go through electronic doors...I am very scared as this has to be the calm before the storm...I have plenty of things I could be doing (such as planning my next fabulous vacation) but instead I'm blogging for my followers. Love me. Love me now.
So vacay: I'm thinking five nights in Amish country (or as Angela would say, the AAAAmish) and then a nine night cruise to Canada/New England. I'm super excited about this cruise because I think I would actually have fun in ports like Bar Harbor and Boston whereas when I take a Caribbean or Bahamas cruise I get off the ship and want to die from the heat.
---SIDE NOTE: I would kind of like gravy and biscuits from breakfast which is weird because I don't really like gravy and biscuits...END SIDE NOTE---
Aarrrgggg my head hurts. My eyes feel puffy and my whole face hurts. I guess it's allergies or sinuses or something else non fatal.
(Apparently this has just turned into a 'random thoughts blog' so I'll not bother putting 'side note' just know that it's all 'side note'...)
I'm excited about our Pigeon Forge trip.
I'm not excited about the people starting to come into the lobby. Ugh.
I just recently learned that the phrase 'down the road' means going to prison; COOL!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Start Throwing Stones
This weekend is a fifth Sunday which means absolutely nothing to you unless you go to a church that cancels services on fifth Sundays. And in that case it's something you look forward to. Don't get me wrong, I love church, I LOVE IT, but to have a weekend with absolutely nothing to do is...glorious. And so few and far between.
For those who don't know, Craig was called to a ministry at a nursing home in Gainesville and he preaches there every 1st and 3rd sunday and does a Bible study every 2nd and 4th saturday. At first I had mixed emotions about this. As excited as I was about God using Craig I was also a little sad that we'd be missing home church two times a month. Especially now that Coop is old enough to actually participate a little in Sunday school and I just felt like he was going to be missing out on a vital part of childhood.
So I was kind of hoping that we'd go a few times and hate it and then I'd just go to our church on the Sundays that Craig had to preach. The first time we walked in and I thought to myself, ugh, nursing home, Lord, how long will it take me to accept this part of our life you have for us and how will I ever love these people the way you want me to? As the elderly patients began to gather I looked around and honestly it took about thirty seconds to fall in love. Craig and I both have our favorites and even Cooper has special ones that he bonds with. So as much as I didn't want to love this I do. I truely do.
I count it an honor to get to worship with these people. People who have seen wars and civil movements and depressions and probably make up the generation that has seen the absolute most change in their lifetime. I love to sit back and watch while we sing and even though we have songbooks and some of them hold them they're not at all looking at the words, they know them by heart. Sometimes they close their eyes and move their lips silently along with the words and I think "oh to be as close to God as these people are!"
I said that to say this, I do love the nursing home ministry *BUT* I thought we were off this weekend. I thought we had one of those oh so rare weekends that consisted of having no plans and doing nothing and YES I KNOW, that's horrible and lazy and all kinds of things but still sometimes it's nice. So when Craig informed me that he had checked and we were supposed to go Sunday even though it was a fifth Sunday and we thought we didn't have to and for a few minutes, I'll admit it, I whined, I fussed, I pouted. I wanted my weekend to be mine, I wanted to be the ruler of it and for a bit I absolutely resented having to go to the nursing home at all. (I KNOW, JUST TYPING THIS, I WANT TO PUNCH MY OWN SELF IN THE FACE).
Now I realize having one and two obligations a week is nothing. Shelli and Les just finished seven weeks of revivals which probably had day services too so you're talking about forty nine (49!) services. And I know that Sheryl and Nathan have had to go with the choir to so many different churches this year (although Nathan only gets half credit for this since he sometimes only stays for the singing), STILL THOUGH, there are people everywhere giving a lot more time to God than me and then I complain about this one thing. I'm especially humbled after reading a quote just yesterday that said "Time is God's gift to us so that we can give it back to Him."
I am a horrible person but the difference is I'll admit I'm horrible. I'll admit that sometimes on Sunday mornings I just DON'T want to get out of bed. Sometimes on Saturday I DON'T want to go to Bible study. Sometimes on Wednesdays it takes all of my stregth just to make it to church. I know this is on me. These are things that I need to work on and that I need to overcome. But everyone has their own weaknesses and the major difference is that I share mine with the world. I'm one of those loud hypocrites.
So let the throwing of stones commence. But when you're finished if you're church has been cancelled on Sunday come join us at the nursing home.
For those who don't know, Craig was called to a ministry at a nursing home in Gainesville and he preaches there every 1st and 3rd sunday and does a Bible study every 2nd and 4th saturday. At first I had mixed emotions about this. As excited as I was about God using Craig I was also a little sad that we'd be missing home church two times a month. Especially now that Coop is old enough to actually participate a little in Sunday school and I just felt like he was going to be missing out on a vital part of childhood.
So I was kind of hoping that we'd go a few times and hate it and then I'd just go to our church on the Sundays that Craig had to preach. The first time we walked in and I thought to myself, ugh, nursing home, Lord, how long will it take me to accept this part of our life you have for us and how will I ever love these people the way you want me to? As the elderly patients began to gather I looked around and honestly it took about thirty seconds to fall in love. Craig and I both have our favorites and even Cooper has special ones that he bonds with. So as much as I didn't want to love this I do. I truely do.
I count it an honor to get to worship with these people. People who have seen wars and civil movements and depressions and probably make up the generation that has seen the absolute most change in their lifetime. I love to sit back and watch while we sing and even though we have songbooks and some of them hold them they're not at all looking at the words, they know them by heart. Sometimes they close their eyes and move their lips silently along with the words and I think "oh to be as close to God as these people are!"
I said that to say this, I do love the nursing home ministry *BUT* I thought we were off this weekend. I thought we had one of those oh so rare weekends that consisted of having no plans and doing nothing and YES I KNOW, that's horrible and lazy and all kinds of things but still sometimes it's nice. So when Craig informed me that he had checked and we were supposed to go Sunday even though it was a fifth Sunday and we thought we didn't have to and for a few minutes, I'll admit it, I whined, I fussed, I pouted. I wanted my weekend to be mine, I wanted to be the ruler of it and for a bit I absolutely resented having to go to the nursing home at all. (I KNOW, JUST TYPING THIS, I WANT TO PUNCH MY OWN SELF IN THE FACE).
Now I realize having one and two obligations a week is nothing. Shelli and Les just finished seven weeks of revivals which probably had day services too so you're talking about forty nine (49!) services. And I know that Sheryl and Nathan have had to go with the choir to so many different churches this year (although Nathan only gets half credit for this since he sometimes only stays for the singing), STILL THOUGH, there are people everywhere giving a lot more time to God than me and then I complain about this one thing. I'm especially humbled after reading a quote just yesterday that said "Time is God's gift to us so that we can give it back to Him."
I am a horrible person but the difference is I'll admit I'm horrible. I'll admit that sometimes on Sunday mornings I just DON'T want to get out of bed. Sometimes on Saturday I DON'T want to go to Bible study. Sometimes on Wednesdays it takes all of my stregth just to make it to church. I know this is on me. These are things that I need to work on and that I need to overcome. But everyone has their own weaknesses and the major difference is that I share mine with the world. I'm one of those loud hypocrites.
So let the throwing of stones commence. But when you're finished if you're church has been cancelled on Sunday come join us at the nursing home.
Because things like this JUST HAPPEN to me:
Rite Aid has a website where you can watch short videos and then it'll let you print off coupons. This website has taken every available measure to ensure that you would ACTUALLY watch the videos and not say for instance, turn them on and then pull up another window to surf the web or blog or any kind of crap like that. If you do minimize their site the video will stop and resume only when you click play again. If you start a video and then say you have to use the bathroom you better make sure you get back before it's over because you only have twenty five seconds to enter a code at then end or that video doesn't count toward your credits and you have to start all over. IT'S STRICT.
So because I have a little bit of A.D.D. I usually wait to watch these videos when I have something else going on or else I go crazy. Today I had to sit up front at work for several hours so I figured I would make the most of my time and "watch" some videos all the while really answering the phone, controlling the board, etc. and as long as I managed to enter the code within my TWENTY FIVE SECOND time frame I was good to go.
Okay now the most valuable coupon is the $5 off of $20 that you get after you accumulate twenty credits (from watching the videos) so that's what I strive for. If you keep reading I promise THIS STORY DOES HAVE A POINT.
So today my main goal was to just get my twenty credits so I'm blindly just clicking on the ads in no particular order, going about my business, doing my thing and then clicking the next video without paying much attention.
Out of the corner of my eye I see one of the jail Sergents coming into control one so I go to the computer to pause the video (you know, just because) and I look up in horror at the screen as I see a giant picture of a durex condom and my mind focuses on the sleazy music and the announcer shouts "HAVE A SEXPERIENCE WITH OUR CONDOMS!" And all the while, almost as if in slow motion I'm going "Noooooooooooo" and hitting 'pause', 'minimize' 'DELETE' but nothing happens because I guess the universe thought it would be hilariously ironic if I got fired over watching a commercial of all things.
Luckily for me this Sergent lives in his own little bubble so I don't even think he noticed.
Note to self: forget porn but if you watch VIDEO VALUES at work keep your trigger finger ready to hit DELETE.
So because I have a little bit of A.D.D. I usually wait to watch these videos when I have something else going on or else I go crazy. Today I had to sit up front at work for several hours so I figured I would make the most of my time and "watch" some videos all the while really answering the phone, controlling the board, etc. and as long as I managed to enter the code within my TWENTY FIVE SECOND time frame I was good to go.
Okay now the most valuable coupon is the $5 off of $20 that you get after you accumulate twenty credits (from watching the videos) so that's what I strive for. If you keep reading I promise THIS STORY DOES HAVE A POINT.
So today my main goal was to just get my twenty credits so I'm blindly just clicking on the ads in no particular order, going about my business, doing my thing and then clicking the next video without paying much attention.
Out of the corner of my eye I see one of the jail Sergents coming into control one so I go to the computer to pause the video (you know, just because) and I look up in horror at the screen as I see a giant picture of a durex condom and my mind focuses on the sleazy music and the announcer shouts "HAVE A SEXPERIENCE WITH OUR CONDOMS!" And all the while, almost as if in slow motion I'm going "Noooooooooooo" and hitting 'pause', 'minimize' 'DELETE' but nothing happens because I guess the universe thought it would be hilariously ironic if I got fired over watching a commercial of all things.
Luckily for me this Sergent lives in his own little bubble so I don't even think he noticed.
Note to self: forget porn but if you watch VIDEO VALUES at work keep your trigger finger ready to hit DELETE.
Bedtime & Bandaids
A week or two ago Cooper got a booboo (according to him from "running and fall down") and I really needed to put a bandaid on it. Mainly because it was on his finger and I didn't want it to get infected and possible spread and his whole hand have to be cut off and him end up with a hook. Speaking of, what exactly is the purpose of a hook? I mean why pick that as a replacement? WHAT DO YOU DO WITH A FRIGGIN HOOK? Wouldn't you actually have just as much luck with a nub as you do a hook? You know what would happen if I ever had to have a hook? I would somehow manage to poke my own eye out with it and then I'd be half way to a pirate.
Anyway so Cooper, he has a booboo...We try repeatedly to put a bandaid on it. I try, my mom tries, Bec tries and every single time he freaks out because (well I don't know why because he's two I guess and sometimes things seem like they're the end of the world and he might just die but in reality it means he just has to wait an extra five minutes for his scooby snack.
So to remedy this problem, me (in my awesome motherly wisdom) bought some scooby doo bandaids! Yay me! Not only did this solve the problem of him being "scared" of bandaids they actually became like his favorite thing EVER. AND incidentally since then he's had a booboo EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
And every single day he needs a scooby doo bandaid but he still doesn't quite get exactly what the bandaid is supposed to do. He doesn't want me to put it on his injury, instead "I DO IT! I GET IT!" (his catch phrase when he's subtly letting us know that he can handle something) sooo he then proceeds to stick it on various places (usually not his booboo) and eventually after being played with enough it just falls off and I am constantly finding ROUGE wandering bandaids throughout my house. Even though they weren't technically "used" it's still pretty gross.
Last night as we were getting ready for bed he convinced me he needing a scooby doo bandaid real bad. (Insert eye rolling). Fine, so I give him one and sure enough by this morning it's stuck all in his hair. Ewww. Ewww. EWWW.
I feel like if this was someone else's kid and I was an outsider looking in I might say "if you've ever woken up with a BANDAID stuck in your hair...you might be a little trashy..."
-Side note: spellcheck went absolutely crazy with this one. It was like if you say ewww, scooby doo or booboo one more time my tiny computer brain might just explode.
Anyway so Cooper, he has a booboo...We try repeatedly to put a bandaid on it. I try, my mom tries, Bec tries and every single time he freaks out because (well I don't know why because he's two I guess and sometimes things seem like they're the end of the world and he might just die but in reality it means he just has to wait an extra five minutes for his scooby snack.
So to remedy this problem, me (in my awesome motherly wisdom) bought some scooby doo bandaids! Yay me! Not only did this solve the problem of him being "scared" of bandaids they actually became like his favorite thing EVER. AND incidentally since then he's had a booboo EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
And every single day he needs a scooby doo bandaid but he still doesn't quite get exactly what the bandaid is supposed to do. He doesn't want me to put it on his injury, instead "I DO IT! I GET IT!" (his catch phrase when he's subtly letting us know that he can handle something) sooo he then proceeds to stick it on various places (usually not his booboo) and eventually after being played with enough it just falls off and I am constantly finding ROUGE wandering bandaids throughout my house. Even though they weren't technically "used" it's still pretty gross.
Last night as we were getting ready for bed he convinced me he needing a scooby doo bandaid real bad. (Insert eye rolling). Fine, so I give him one and sure enough by this morning it's stuck all in his hair. Ewww. Ewww. EWWW.
I feel like if this was someone else's kid and I was an outsider looking in I might say "if you've ever woken up with a BANDAID stuck in your hair...you might be a little trashy..."
-Side note: spellcheck went absolutely crazy with this one. It was like if you say ewww, scooby doo or booboo one more time my tiny computer brain might just explode.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
If it was REAL SMUT they couldn't show it on tv...
After having a discussion that I may or may not have become passionate about, I accused Craig of not even giving the tv shows that I like a fair chance. He countered with the fact that he had painfully endured a year and half of 'Desperate Housewives' and he finally couldn't stand it anymore. (And technically this wasn't really a fair assessment on my part because there actually are several shows that we both enjoy plus the original argument had nothing to do with the housewives) BUT at 11:30 pm it seemed like a logical fight to have. I know, we have such *problems* you just hate us, right?
Anyway for the record if I have to see Bear Grills (yes I realize that can't be how you spell his name but WHATEVER) if I have to see that lunatic give himself one more enema or drink his own urine one more time or rip one more camel's heart out I might just go crazy.
Anyway for the record if I have to see Bear Grills (yes I realize that can't be how you spell his name but WHATEVER) if I have to see that lunatic give himself one more enema or drink his own urine one more time or rip one more camel's heart out I might just go crazy.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
The more boring post ever. Seriously, don't read.
Nothing even remotely interesting has happened today. So I'm going to blog about the very non interesting things. Because I am determined to be a blogger, dang it. Speaking of, I love it when someone asks me "what do I want to do with my life?" and I answer with "I want to be a professional blogger" and they're all like "oh, okay like that's even real" and I'm all like "ummm hello, have you not heard of Dooce, the absolute famous blogger that has basically made herself a millionaire just by sharing stories about crap (sometimes all too literal 'crap') from her life?" And then they just give me a blank stare. But seriously Dooce isn't even all that good. In fact, I don't think I'd waste time on her site. Stop minimizing me, STOP IT!
I had a very ironic thing happen yesterday but even if I bothered to tell you all about it no one would believe me because they'd be all "OH WHATEVER, that didn't really happen!" But it did! Because my life is a big ironic pit sometimes.
Also last night after leaving church we were walking to the car and Cooper pointed to the cemetery and said "what's that?" except it came out super cute like "WHAZZAT?!?!?!" because he says everything with great joy and expression. And then I had to ponder "oh crap, how will I ever explain death to a two year old" but then he pointed to a bug on the parking lot and exclaimed, "WHAZZAT?!" so luckily I was saved from a potentially monumental parenting moment...hopefully for a long time.
I always want Moe's to eat. I crave it all the time. Two weeks ago I got a text with a code for a free meal. Ever since then the thought of Moe's has disgusted me. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I ROLL.
I'm currently trying to play a "I've come to the conclusion that" game on facebook but I'm not sure that people get it...
Okay I'm going, in hopes that something (ANTHING!) exciting might come my way...and then I'll share it with you...and you'll laugh and you'll like it and you'll buy a THE SHAN tshirt and wear it and all your friends will become "followers" (but not in a creepy way) and then I can finally be a blogger AND (what am I saying, I know you've already deserted me for Dooce...)
I had a very ironic thing happen yesterday but even if I bothered to tell you all about it no one would believe me because they'd be all "OH WHATEVER, that didn't really happen!" But it did! Because my life is a big ironic pit sometimes.
Also last night after leaving church we were walking to the car and Cooper pointed to the cemetery and said "what's that?" except it came out super cute like "WHAZZAT?!?!?!" because he says everything with great joy and expression. And then I had to ponder "oh crap, how will I ever explain death to a two year old" but then he pointed to a bug on the parking lot and exclaimed, "WHAZZAT?!" so luckily I was saved from a potentially monumental parenting moment...hopefully for a long time.
I always want Moe's to eat. I crave it all the time. Two weeks ago I got a text with a code for a free meal. Ever since then the thought of Moe's has disgusted me. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I ROLL.
I'm currently trying to play a "I've come to the conclusion that" game on facebook but I'm not sure that people get it...
Okay I'm going, in hopes that something (ANTHING!) exciting might come my way...and then I'll share it with you...and you'll laugh and you'll like it and you'll buy a THE SHAN tshirt and wear it and all your friends will become "followers" (but not in a creepy way) and then I can finally be a blogger AND (what am I saying, I know you've already deserted me for Dooce...)
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
nOt ThAt CoOl
When I look at facebook in the morning and I see the status of some people (who don't have a job mind you) updating every hour just to let us know "they're chillin in the bed" it kind of pisses me off because ONE: there's nothing physically wrong with you, you could have a job but you choose to accept food stamps and WIC as a way of life and TWO: if you really are so desolate why are able to update your status from your flippin IPHONE while "chillin in bed".
DISCLAIMER: If you update (FROM YOUR IPHONE OR BLACKBERRY) that you're so poor and you could really use some help, I'm likely to make fun of you and mock you on my blog.
DISCLAIMER: If you update (FROM YOUR IPHONE OR BLACKBERRY) that you're so poor and you could really use some help, I'm likely to make fun of you and mock you on my blog.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Death of a Cricket
I kept noticing that my cat Mercy kept pawing at the bottom of the couch and looking under it like something was there. Now we have a very real problem with scorpions and I have an incredible imagination that led me to believe there could be anything under there, from giant snakes to a very small midget that was hiding and plotting to kill us all in our sleep soooooooo I felt the incredible urge to check it out.
I lifted the end of the couch (since Craig is still recuperating from his "surgery". (Not that his surgery wasn't real but if I was telling this story in person I would definitely put it in air quotes because that's how I roll...) SO I LIFTED THE COUCH...and told Craig to look under and see what it was. (And if it had fangs or a very small pair of nun chucks to give me the signal and I would crush whatever it was with my might and the very large couch).
"Oh I said relieved, it's just a little cricket!" Mercy tried to pounce it but I yelled at her to stop. "Mercy it's just a cricket don't kill it, I'll put it outside." Then Craig "ever helpful" (that one got italics and AIR QUOTES), stomped it. I stared at him with my mouth open. (All the while still holding the end of the couch. "CRAIG! I just told the cat NOT to kill it I was going to put it outside." He goes, "Oh, uh I think it's too late for that..." See I told you he was super helpful (INSERT GIANT EYE ROLLING SMILIE HERE).
I lifted the end of the couch (since Craig is still recuperating from his "surgery". (Not that his surgery wasn't real but if I was telling this story in person I would definitely put it in air quotes because that's how I roll...) SO I LIFTED THE COUCH...and told Craig to look under and see what it was. (And if it had fangs or a very small pair of nun chucks to give me the signal and I would crush whatever it was with my might and the very large couch).
"Oh I said relieved, it's just a little cricket!" Mercy tried to pounce it but I yelled at her to stop. "Mercy it's just a cricket don't kill it, I'll put it outside." Then Craig "ever helpful" (that one got italics and AIR QUOTES), stomped it. I stared at him with my mouth open. (All the while still holding the end of the couch. "CRAIG! I just told the cat NOT to kill it I was going to put it outside." He goes, "Oh, uh I think it's too late for that..." See I told you he was super helpful (INSERT GIANT EYE ROLLING SMILIE HERE).
As heard from my house, this weekend:
The Setting: Our house, me cooking tacos, Craig reading, Cooper being wild;
Me: "Craig, do you think if I died you'd start cooking or would you and Cooper just starve to death?"
Craig: "I've actually been cooking a fair amount lately."
Me: "WHAT HAVE YOU COOKED?!"
Craig: I boiled some eggs...yeah probably I'll have to learn to cook if you die."
The Setting: Our house, me cooking (AGAIN), Craig and Cooper playing;
Cooper: "(insert high pitched squeal here)"
Craig: "Son, boy's don't screech."
Cooper: "(insert even higher, louder and more blood curdling scream here)"
Craig: "SON! I told you boys don't scream, only little girls scream, yuck, you don't want to be a little girl do you?!"
Cooper: "Uh huh, little girl! (screeeeeech)"
Craig: (In a most disapproving tone): "SON!!!"
The Setting: All of us in the truck, chattering.
Me: (to Cooper): "Do you know your name?"
Cooper: "B-L-T-P"
Me: (laughing) "I didn't ask could you spell your name sillygoose!"
Cooper: (laughing)
Me: "Your name is Cooper. And you spell it CO-PP-ER." (I chanted in a sing song-y voice)
Cooper: "douper."
Me: "Yep Cooper, CO-PP-ER."
Craig: "Uh babe, how did you spell that?"
Me: (kind of annoyed) "Craig I'm trying to teach him something, I'm making it sing song-y so he'll remember it "CO-PP-ER."
Craig: "Yeah that's COPPER...like the metal..."
Me: "AWWW CRAP!"
Later that night while telling the story to my mom and Bec;
Bec: "Cooper, can you spell your name now?"
Cooper "B-O-O-B"
Me: (hysterical with laughter) "Craig he just spelled his first word, BOOB!"
Craig: "AWWW CRAP!"
Me: "Craig, do you think if I died you'd start cooking or would you and Cooper just starve to death?"
Craig: "I've actually been cooking a fair amount lately."
Me: "WHAT HAVE YOU COOKED?!"
Craig: I boiled some eggs...yeah probably I'll have to learn to cook if you die."
The Setting: Our house, me cooking (AGAIN), Craig and Cooper playing;
Cooper: "(insert high pitched squeal here)"
Craig: "Son, boy's don't screech."
Cooper: "(insert even higher, louder and more blood curdling scream here)"
Craig: "SON! I told you boys don't scream, only little girls scream, yuck, you don't want to be a little girl do you?!"
Cooper: "Uh huh, little girl! (screeeeeech)"
Craig: (In a most disapproving tone): "SON!!!"
The Setting: All of us in the truck, chattering.
Me: (to Cooper): "Do you know your name?"
Cooper: "B-L-T-P"
Me: (laughing) "I didn't ask could you spell your name sillygoose!"
Cooper: (laughing)
Me: "Your name is Cooper. And you spell it CO-PP-ER." (I chanted in a sing song-y voice)
Cooper: "douper."
Me: "Yep Cooper, CO-PP-ER."
Craig: "Uh babe, how did you spell that?"
Me: (kind of annoyed) "Craig I'm trying to teach him something, I'm making it sing song-y so he'll remember it "CO-PP-ER."
Craig: "Yeah that's COPPER...like the metal..."
Me: "AWWW CRAP!"
Later that night while telling the story to my mom and Bec;
Bec: "Cooper, can you spell your name now?"
Cooper "B-O-O-B"
Me: (hysterical with laughter) "Craig he just spelled his first word, BOOB!"
Craig: "AWWW CRAP!"
Friday, August 20, 2010
I mean really, I owe it to the fans...
To continue this blog. Sure I've gotten some bad feedback from it. Absolutely people have told me my life would run more smoothly if I didn't post my absolute feelings and my honest opinions, but really what fun would that be? And how let down would my 9 (NINE!) fans be if I started blogging about crap like happy unicorns and hope filled butterflies?
So nine followers, remember I went out on a limb for you and I stretched out my neck and one day if my family abandons me and I'm left friendless I expect some of you to take up the slack. Remember if you invite me for Thanksgiving I don't do turkey...
So anyway, facebook added a new feature called 'Facebook Places'. This is a brilliant little feature that when enabled links your facebook page to your gps located on your phone and has the ability to let all your "friends" know where you are at all times...And I am truly using the term "friends" here on the fast and loose. I mean let's face it, everyone has that one creepy guy on their friend list who looks a little like a molester yet you went to school with him and he only has eighteen friends as it is and you hate to be the a-hole that kicks him while he's down and the final straw for him chugging that whole bottle of nyquil JUST TO EASE THE PAIN FOR A LITTLE BIT so you go ahead and accept his friend request but let's face it do you really want THAT GUY to know where you are 24/7?
Plus it totally eliminates the element of surprise. No more can you stalk your friend at walmart and slowly follow her down the aisles randomly throwing crap in her buggy (ex: ky jelly, whipped cream and a pregnancy test) while her back is turned. Now your friend will just consult her phone and be on high alert and you'll be found out and what's the fun in that?
And further more facebook places, will eventually make the term "FANCY MEETING YOU HERE" completely obsolete because it's not fancy if it's planned.
So nine followers, remember I went out on a limb for you and I stretched out my neck and one day if my family abandons me and I'm left friendless I expect some of you to take up the slack. Remember if you invite me for Thanksgiving I don't do turkey...
So anyway, facebook added a new feature called 'Facebook Places'. This is a brilliant little feature that when enabled links your facebook page to your gps located on your phone and has the ability to let all your "friends" know where you are at all times...And I am truly using the term "friends" here on the fast and loose. I mean let's face it, everyone has that one creepy guy on their friend list who looks a little like a molester yet you went to school with him and he only has eighteen friends as it is and you hate to be the a-hole that kicks him while he's down and the final straw for him chugging that whole bottle of nyquil JUST TO EASE THE PAIN FOR A LITTLE BIT so you go ahead and accept his friend request but let's face it do you really want THAT GUY to know where you are 24/7?
Plus it totally eliminates the element of surprise. No more can you stalk your friend at walmart and slowly follow her down the aisles randomly throwing crap in her buggy (ex: ky jelly, whipped cream and a pregnancy test) while her back is turned. Now your friend will just consult her phone and be on high alert and you'll be found out and what's the fun in that?
And further more facebook places, will eventually make the term "FANCY MEETING YOU HERE" completely obsolete because it's not fancy if it's planned.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The One Where It All Comes Out
It was brought to my attention that my blog had offended someone in my family. They thought I was talking about them being a "crazy family member". Nothing could be farther from the truth so let me just elaborate on EXACTLY who I was talking about.
When I talked about moving to new england I was having a crappy day at work. Newsflash: I hate my job.
When I mentioned the holidays this was strictly talking about the amount of stress it takes to plan anything on Craig's side of the family. Maybe it's because there are so many of us. Maybe it's because Brad has a crazy schedule or we have so many church obligations or that Joann works on weekends or maybe it's just because the devil doesn't want us to have a good Christmas, WHATEVER the reason, that's what that was about.
When I talked about "crazy relatives" I had two people in mind. One used to be married to my aunt for about forty years until he decided he didn't love her anymore. And it seems like almost every single day he pulls some new stunt causing her a great deal of grief. Okay you don't love her, move on and stop trying to make her life hell. Just leave her alone. Stop rubbing salt in the wound and just get away from all of us.
The other person I had in mind is in Craig's family and he has harbored hatred and resentment toward's us for almost a year and the only thing I can figure is that we didn't attend a wedding. The almost ironic thing is we were all planning on going until we heard him say he didn't want kids there. So I stayed with Cooper and Craig went, representing our family. This is the only thing I can remotely think of that we "did". I'm sorry that you forgot about the fact that we spent all day at a shower/bbq for this same person plus we all brought gifts plus the fact THAT WE WERE GOING TO GO UNTIL YOU SPECIFICALLY SAID YOU DIDN'T WANT CHILDREN THERE. *anyway* The fact is it's over, let it go. Don't keep punishing everyone around you for something so petty. The fact that this has blown all the crap out of proportion to the point where you've taken all of the photos of yourself home with you and you refuse to talk to anyone in the family is utterly ridiculous. I have, out of respect for my mother in law who didn't want anyone to know just how childish and petty someone could be to try to break a family in half, have not blogged about this until now but just so we clarify, this is what I was talking about. It hurts my feelings that you'll stand two feet away from my child at a funeral and ignore him completely just because you're mad at his parent's for something so completely juvenile. I thought you loved him. Apparently not. It hurts my feelings that you've gone months without speaking to two of your sisters and I've seen them both cry over it. It hurts my feelings that my husband, your nephew, has had three surgeries since then and your sister had a stroke yet you still can't break down the walls of indifference.
And when I posted about grandma and her picture I think I was pretty clear about who I was talking about considering I said her name. Why grandma, why, why, why, would you ever think that I would put something on my facebook to publically humiliate you? I loved the picture. I loved it. I loved how Cooper looked so happy to be sitting with you and you looked in complete awe of him and you were laughing so merrily like this was the best thing ever. I loved how I thought it really demonstrated a great grandmother's love. But apparently you only saw a picture of yourself that you didn't care for...I don't know, I don't get it. I never in a million years thought that by me caring enough about you to love a picture of you and Cooper so much that I would want to share it with the world would cause such hurt. Yes I was hurt.
And to top it all off I guess I was a little stressed and emotionally drained because I had spent all weekend long sifting through my nanny's belongings (whom is dead). I spent all weekend long agonizing about what I should keep, what I should give away, what someone else might appreciate just to keep a little part of her alive so maybe I am overly sensitive, maybe that's why I wanted to dearly cherish the picture I have of grandma and Cooper and I was offended when she hated it.
So there, everyone was hurt, no one's perfect and I hope I've cleared up any misunderstandings. And no, I don't plan on filtering my blog or my opinions but anyone who hates it, Please feel free to hit 'UNSUBSCRIBE'.
When I talked about moving to new england I was having a crappy day at work. Newsflash: I hate my job.
When I mentioned the holidays this was strictly talking about the amount of stress it takes to plan anything on Craig's side of the family. Maybe it's because there are so many of us. Maybe it's because Brad has a crazy schedule or we have so many church obligations or that Joann works on weekends or maybe it's just because the devil doesn't want us to have a good Christmas, WHATEVER the reason, that's what that was about.
When I talked about "crazy relatives" I had two people in mind. One used to be married to my aunt for about forty years until he decided he didn't love her anymore. And it seems like almost every single day he pulls some new stunt causing her a great deal of grief. Okay you don't love her, move on and stop trying to make her life hell. Just leave her alone. Stop rubbing salt in the wound and just get away from all of us.
The other person I had in mind is in Craig's family and he has harbored hatred and resentment toward's us for almost a year and the only thing I can figure is that we didn't attend a wedding. The almost ironic thing is we were all planning on going until we heard him say he didn't want kids there. So I stayed with Cooper and Craig went, representing our family. This is the only thing I can remotely think of that we "did". I'm sorry that you forgot about the fact that we spent all day at a shower/bbq for this same person plus we all brought gifts plus the fact THAT WE WERE GOING TO GO UNTIL YOU SPECIFICALLY SAID YOU DIDN'T WANT CHILDREN THERE. *anyway* The fact is it's over, let it go. Don't keep punishing everyone around you for something so petty. The fact that this has blown all the crap out of proportion to the point where you've taken all of the photos of yourself home with you and you refuse to talk to anyone in the family is utterly ridiculous. I have, out of respect for my mother in law who didn't want anyone to know just how childish and petty someone could be to try to break a family in half, have not blogged about this until now but just so we clarify, this is what I was talking about. It hurts my feelings that you'll stand two feet away from my child at a funeral and ignore him completely just because you're mad at his parent's for something so completely juvenile. I thought you loved him. Apparently not. It hurts my feelings that you've gone months without speaking to two of your sisters and I've seen them both cry over it. It hurts my feelings that my husband, your nephew, has had three surgeries since then and your sister had a stroke yet you still can't break down the walls of indifference.
And when I posted about grandma and her picture I think I was pretty clear about who I was talking about considering I said her name. Why grandma, why, why, why, would you ever think that I would put something on my facebook to publically humiliate you? I loved the picture. I loved it. I loved how Cooper looked so happy to be sitting with you and you looked in complete awe of him and you were laughing so merrily like this was the best thing ever. I loved how I thought it really demonstrated a great grandmother's love. But apparently you only saw a picture of yourself that you didn't care for...I don't know, I don't get it. I never in a million years thought that by me caring enough about you to love a picture of you and Cooper so much that I would want to share it with the world would cause such hurt. Yes I was hurt.
And to top it all off I guess I was a little stressed and emotionally drained because I had spent all weekend long sifting through my nanny's belongings (whom is dead). I spent all weekend long agonizing about what I should keep, what I should give away, what someone else might appreciate just to keep a little part of her alive so maybe I am overly sensitive, maybe that's why I wanted to dearly cherish the picture I have of grandma and Cooper and I was offended when she hated it.
So there, everyone was hurt, no one's perfect and I hope I've cleared up any misunderstandings. And no, I don't plan on filtering my blog or my opinions but anyone who hates it, Please feel free to hit 'UNSUBSCRIBE'.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Question of the Hour
Every once in a while or every ten minutes depending on who I'm talking to (KAREN) (jk), the question comes up "when are you going to have another baby?" And from a spiritual side I want to say that we'll pray about it diligently and God will let us know when the time is right (if ever). From a totally carnal and lazy human side I want to say I DON'T WANT TO START OVER!
I had a conversation with Gretchen the other day about how it's even hard to find time to take a shower when you have a newborn. I didn't want to burst her bubble but that continues...for years. But I remember the newborn stage quite well when Craig would come home and be all like, "eww what's that smell?" and then I'd burst into tears (hormones) and start screaming (me, just being me) that in case he had forgotten, we have a two week old and I can't take a shower anytime I want like him and maybe he should just count himself lucky I still let him live in my house after WHAT HE DID (getting me pregnant...).
But no seriously...yeah...that about sums it up. I remember being so glad when mom, dad or Bec would come down so I could at least go brush my teeth and put my contacts in. Maybe we just had it harder than most new parents because we had the extra challenge of never leaving our baby in the room alone with our cats lest one of them suck his breath...
Showering has become easier but it's still not foolproof. Today I told Coop to pick out one toy that he had to come in the bathroom with me while I showered. He reluctantly grabbed the nearest tractor and trudged to the bathroom muttering "oh man..." I quickly thought it over. Okay he's two...he's pretty mature for his age, maybe he could be left unattended while I take a shower and get ready. (See the last time I *thought* he was old enough to do this it ended in me walking out of the bathroom to see him swallow something and all he would say was "yummy money" and we had to check poop for a week, so maybe that's why I was reluctant for this alone time).
"Fine I said, I'll put on Scooby Doo and you can watch that while I'm in the shower but I'm going to call your name and you have to come to the bathroom and check in with me, letting me know you're okay, alright?" "Oh-tayy" he said merrily.
The first check in went like clock work. I called his name, he peeked in the door and said "Hi mommy!" I relaxed. I started to actually enjoy the first shower I'd had in a long time that didn't involve things like toddler toys being randomly thrown at the curtain or refereeing Coop and the cats chasing each other through the bathroom.
Then I got nervous. Had I remembered to lock the door? Was the stove off? Had I left out any sharp objects or things that could be easily swallowed?
"Cooper?" I yelled. No response. I tried to calm down, probably everything was fine. "Cooper?!" Nothing. Okay Shannon, don't let your imagination run away with you, PROBABLY a mountain lion didn't bust through your glass door and is currently trying to attack your helpless son, with whom you left no sharp objects with to protect himself. "COOPER? GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW OR I'M TURNING OFF SCOOBY DOO!" He comes running in, "Nooooo mommy!" Oh so you are alive? You fended off the mountain lion? "Okay go back and watch scooby doo and come the next time I call you." He walked out of the bathroom and slammed the door! Are you kidding me, Mr. Attitude? Did we skip the terrible two's and go straight to the moody teenager stage?!
So to sum up, I successfully took a shower today with no major disasters.
We're out of the bottle stage. I no longer spend half of my grocery budget on formula. We sleep all night, every night. I haven't had to purchase diapers in over a month (hallelujah!) and now I get to take showers again...
To start over would be absolutely crazy. Insane. Impossible.
But then I see baby Jaxon and he's so cuddly and he smells soooooo good!
And then I see Cooper and he's all like being crazy, asking for a scooby snack, running around and cracking me up and in that instance when people ask when we're going to have another baby I can honestly say "We're set. We're good!"
I had a conversation with Gretchen the other day about how it's even hard to find time to take a shower when you have a newborn. I didn't want to burst her bubble but that continues...for years. But I remember the newborn stage quite well when Craig would come home and be all like, "eww what's that smell?" and then I'd burst into tears (hormones) and start screaming (me, just being me) that in case he had forgotten, we have a two week old and I can't take a shower anytime I want like him and maybe he should just count himself lucky I still let him live in my house after WHAT HE DID (getting me pregnant...).
But no seriously...yeah...that about sums it up. I remember being so glad when mom, dad or Bec would come down so I could at least go brush my teeth and put my contacts in. Maybe we just had it harder than most new parents because we had the extra challenge of never leaving our baby in the room alone with our cats lest one of them suck his breath...
Showering has become easier but it's still not foolproof. Today I told Coop to pick out one toy that he had to come in the bathroom with me while I showered. He reluctantly grabbed the nearest tractor and trudged to the bathroom muttering "oh man..." I quickly thought it over. Okay he's two...he's pretty mature for his age, maybe he could be left unattended while I take a shower and get ready. (See the last time I *thought* he was old enough to do this it ended in me walking out of the bathroom to see him swallow something and all he would say was "yummy money" and we had to check poop for a week, so maybe that's why I was reluctant for this alone time).
"Fine I said, I'll put on Scooby Doo and you can watch that while I'm in the shower but I'm going to call your name and you have to come to the bathroom and check in with me, letting me know you're okay, alright?" "Oh-tayy" he said merrily.
The first check in went like clock work. I called his name, he peeked in the door and said "Hi mommy!" I relaxed. I started to actually enjoy the first shower I'd had in a long time that didn't involve things like toddler toys being randomly thrown at the curtain or refereeing Coop and the cats chasing each other through the bathroom.
Then I got nervous. Had I remembered to lock the door? Was the stove off? Had I left out any sharp objects or things that could be easily swallowed?
"Cooper?" I yelled. No response. I tried to calm down, probably everything was fine. "Cooper?!" Nothing. Okay Shannon, don't let your imagination run away with you, PROBABLY a mountain lion didn't bust through your glass door and is currently trying to attack your helpless son, with whom you left no sharp objects with to protect himself. "COOPER? GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW OR I'M TURNING OFF SCOOBY DOO!" He comes running in, "Nooooo mommy!" Oh so you are alive? You fended off the mountain lion? "Okay go back and watch scooby doo and come the next time I call you." He walked out of the bathroom and slammed the door! Are you kidding me, Mr. Attitude? Did we skip the terrible two's and go straight to the moody teenager stage?!
So to sum up, I successfully took a shower today with no major disasters.
We're out of the bottle stage. I no longer spend half of my grocery budget on formula. We sleep all night, every night. I haven't had to purchase diapers in over a month (hallelujah!) and now I get to take showers again...
To start over would be absolutely crazy. Insane. Impossible.
But then I see baby Jaxon and he's so cuddly and he smells soooooo good!
And then I see Cooper and he's all like being crazy, asking for a scooby snack, running around and cracking me up and in that instance when people ask when we're going to have another baby I can honestly say "We're set. We're good!"
Monday, August 16, 2010
I'm Thinking New England...
I'm sick of drama. I'm sick of my job. I'm sick of georgia weather. I'm thinking New England. I want to move. Some people move like vagabonds. They have no problem putting down absolutely no roots at all. I want to be those people. I want to be able to just go and not look back and only fly home for Christmas and funerals and when I do come home people flaunt over me and tell me how great it is to see me. Maybe that's the problem, "my people" see me too much. They need a little "absense makes the heart grow fonder"...sigh
Really though, I'd like to be in new england...where it's cool and I picture people having fall parties where they bob for apples (I don't know I guess I saw it on a movie one time or something) and where I could work from home, writing mystery novels while sipping my hot chocolate and staring out the window from my seaside villa.
And when someone dies and their house needs to be cleaned out DON'T CALL US, WE'RE LIVING IN NEW ENGLAND and if someone's in the hospital and needs a bedside vigal DON'T BOTHER LETTING US KNOW, WE'RE IN NEW ENGLAND, and all this petty, crappy, suck filled day to day drama that both my family and Craig's tends to produce in magnitudes, well soon it won't matter because I'LL BE IN NEW ENGLAND.
Things I officially won't worry about once I move:
Really though, I'd like to be in new england...where it's cool and I picture people having fall parties where they bob for apples (I don't know I guess I saw it on a movie one time or something) and where I could work from home, writing mystery novels while sipping my hot chocolate and staring out the window from my seaside villa.
And when someone dies and their house needs to be cleaned out DON'T CALL US, WE'RE LIVING IN NEW ENGLAND and if someone's in the hospital and needs a bedside vigal DON'T BOTHER LETTING US KNOW, WE'RE IN NEW ENGLAND, and all this petty, crappy, suck filled day to day drama that both my family and Craig's tends to produce in magnitudes, well soon it won't matter because I'LL BE IN NEW ENGLAND.
Things I officially won't worry about once I move:
- Feverishly planning and replanning holiday parties to try and accomodate everyone's schedule. When I fly in for my "once a year" everyone will work around MY schedule, and MY time.
- Family vacations. Enough said.
- Hearing a loved one utter the words "where've you been, haven't seen you in forever". See, when I'm in new england everyone will know where I am and it won't be a question.
- Stepping outside and breaking into a sweat.
- Hearing people say "Hot enough for ya?" daily.
- Dealing with ridiculous public issues at my job.
- Getting daily updates on what outrageous new stunt some crazy family member has pulled.
- Dividing out time equally among family, when we're in new england, EVERYONE LOSES.
The One Where Everyone Freaks the HECK Out...
I used "HECK" because last week when I wrote about someone who used to be married to someone in my family and he totally got mean, vindictive and physco and so I used the best word I could think of to describe him, (it started with an "A" and ended with a "HOLE"), my lovely husband (who's favorite book is "HELL") informed me this wasn't proper language for a preacher's wife to use. And I'm all like "BUT HE SOOOOO IS...ya know, one of THOSE things" And Craig's all like "yeah you still can't say it out loud or BLOG ABOUT IT". And it's not like I officially let Craig tell me what to do but at the same time I try to be respectful of his wishes so I deleted the "offensive" blog and from now on will be using a whole lot of HECK, SHOOT, and sometimes MOTHER PUPPY.
So my grandma called me at work today and yelled at me. Actually yelled. Because I had a picture of her on my facebook. It was taken at Cooper's birthday and she's holding him and he's laughing and she's laughing and I *thought* it was a really sweet picture. In fact I loved it. So I made it my profile pic and someone that's my facebook friend that works with her showed it to her. This person had already made a comment saying she loved the picture so it was in no way malicious but my grandma took this as I was trying to personally attack her with putting such a "horrible picture" of her where everyone could see it and she was pissed and went on to say that she was talking to Banister and we better not get any ideas about making a video to show at the funeral home when she died or she'd come back and haunt us all...
OVER-REACTION MUCH?!
So my grandma called me at work today and yelled at me. Actually yelled. Because I had a picture of her on my facebook. It was taken at Cooper's birthday and she's holding him and he's laughing and she's laughing and I *thought* it was a really sweet picture. In fact I loved it. So I made it my profile pic and someone that's my facebook friend that works with her showed it to her. This person had already made a comment saying she loved the picture so it was in no way malicious but my grandma took this as I was trying to personally attack her with putting such a "horrible picture" of her where everyone could see it and she was pissed and went on to say that she was talking to Banister and we better not get any ideas about making a video to show at the funeral home when she died or she'd come back and haunt us all...
OVER-REACTION MUCH?!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Craig's new book
Craig, my little Biblio scholar tries to read anything and everything about religion and the Bible. Someone recently lent him a book entitled "Hell". I says it will be an awesome witnessing tool. He tries to share things with me that are in the book...repeatedly. I tell him I have no interest. He insists that I should learn.
My response: Jesus told me all I ever need to know about hell; that I don't have to go and that's good enough for me!
My response: Jesus told me all I ever need to know about hell; that I don't have to go and that's good enough for me!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
For Those Who Are Wondering...
We can't really help you if your bank closes your account. Even if you're "mad as heck" as you put it, the bank still hasn't committed a crime. I don't know all the rules about banks and reasons they would or would not close your account but I do know that we cannot go arrest the branch manager just because you're pissed. PLEASE do not call me again.
So, it's Official
The people at my house don't want me to sleep...ever...
All this week Cooper hasn't taken a nap during the day. Okay whatever, I'm not a rigid scheduled type person, I don't care if he doesn't sleep during the day, EXCEPT, when he's so exhausted he falls asleep as soon as we get home. For the last two nights we haven't even finished dinner and his head starts bobbing and he's out cold. Grrrr. I want to play with him and read with him and watch scooby doo. It sucks when he goes to sleep so early. NOT TO MENTION, that it also mean he wakes up so, so very early. This morning it was at 5:15 am. He was standing in his crib yelling, "UP! UP! UP!" So I get him up and put him in bed with us. Normally he goes right back to sleep but I guess he had gotten plenty of sleep SINCE HE FELL ASLEEP BEFORE IT WAS EVEN DARK!
He gets right in my face and looks into my eyes and says "Up, mama." I'm like, "dude, it is the middle of the night!" And yes I realize some of you get up at 5:15 but anything before 7:00 am at our house is the middle of the night! He's like "UP mama! Watch Scooby Doo!" "No Cooper, go back to sleep." "WATCH SCOOBY DOO, EAT SCOOBY SNACK!" Muttering under my breath, "damn you scooby doo, damn you!" Then I say outloud, "Cooper it's still sleepy time, go back to sleep." Insert total two year old meltdown. Screaming, crying, thrashing about.
Now Craig might have been helpful on a normal day but as it was he had only went to sleep like I don't know, fifteen minutes before this whole fiasco started because he absolutely has his days and nights mixed up. Muttering again, "damn you percocet, damn you!" So anyway he lays there completely comatose while I deal with our irate child. Honestly I don't even know how this played out because I fell back asleep and eventually so did Cooper. Gah, I have awesome parenting skills. When in doubt, just roll over and go to sleep. Probably your kid won't get out of bed and do something crazy like scale a cabinet in search of scooby snacks...
Anyway you're probably thinking "well 5:15 wasn't that early why were you so sleepy anyway?" Let me enlighten you on Last Night:
The Scene: Our living room, 10:30 pm
Me: "So I guess you're not sleepy at all, huh?"
Craig: "Nope, not at all but I will go lay down with you if you're going to bed!"
Me: "No no, no, no, NO. No need for that, you go ahead and stay up..."
Ten minutes later: both of us in bed: (sigh)
Craig: "talk, talk, talking"
Me: "hmmhmmm hmmmhmm hmmmhmm"
(Then out of nowhere he slaps my butt and says),
Craig: "haha do you wish I was into weird things like spanking you?"
Me: "I wish you were into things like SLEEPING AT NIGHT!"
All this week Cooper hasn't taken a nap during the day. Okay whatever, I'm not a rigid scheduled type person, I don't care if he doesn't sleep during the day, EXCEPT, when he's so exhausted he falls asleep as soon as we get home. For the last two nights we haven't even finished dinner and his head starts bobbing and he's out cold. Grrrr. I want to play with him and read with him and watch scooby doo. It sucks when he goes to sleep so early. NOT TO MENTION, that it also mean he wakes up so, so very early. This morning it was at 5:15 am. He was standing in his crib yelling, "UP! UP! UP!" So I get him up and put him in bed with us. Normally he goes right back to sleep but I guess he had gotten plenty of sleep SINCE HE FELL ASLEEP BEFORE IT WAS EVEN DARK!
He gets right in my face and looks into my eyes and says "Up, mama." I'm like, "dude, it is the middle of the night!" And yes I realize some of you get up at 5:15 but anything before 7:00 am at our house is the middle of the night! He's like "UP mama! Watch Scooby Doo!" "No Cooper, go back to sleep." "WATCH SCOOBY DOO, EAT SCOOBY SNACK!" Muttering under my breath, "damn you scooby doo, damn you!" Then I say outloud, "Cooper it's still sleepy time, go back to sleep." Insert total two year old meltdown. Screaming, crying, thrashing about.
Now Craig might have been helpful on a normal day but as it was he had only went to sleep like I don't know, fifteen minutes before this whole fiasco started because he absolutely has his days and nights mixed up. Muttering again, "damn you percocet, damn you!" So anyway he lays there completely comatose while I deal with our irate child. Honestly I don't even know how this played out because I fell back asleep and eventually so did Cooper. Gah, I have awesome parenting skills. When in doubt, just roll over and go to sleep. Probably your kid won't get out of bed and do something crazy like scale a cabinet in search of scooby snacks...
Anyway you're probably thinking "well 5:15 wasn't that early why were you so sleepy anyway?" Let me enlighten you on Last Night:
The Scene: Our living room, 10:30 pm
Me: "So I guess you're not sleepy at all, huh?"
Craig: "Nope, not at all but I will go lay down with you if you're going to bed!"
Me: "No no, no, no, NO. No need for that, you go ahead and stay up..."
Ten minutes later: both of us in bed: (sigh)
Craig: "talk, talk, talking"
Me: "hmmhmmm hmmmhmm hmmmhmm"
(Then out of nowhere he slaps my butt and says),
Craig: "haha do you wish I was into weird things like spanking you?"
Me: "I wish you were into things like SLEEPING AT NIGHT!"
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Dear Man That I Married,
When I said I was going to go to bed early it was because I was exhausted. I had worked all day and we had a really stressful weekend (which you may or may not remember because you spent most of it high). You said you weren't sleepy and that was fine. I was in no way implying that you needed to come to bed then. But you said you wanted to be close to me so you would come lie down even though you weren't sleepy.
I really appreciate your kindness and your need to be with me but as soon as you got into bed you started chattering. You wanted to talk. And talk. You wanted to discuss dreams and life goals and things that required lots of brain activity and all I really wanted to do was sleep. I tried rolling over and scrunching into a ball but that only spurred you on to move closer to me. It was as if you took this as an invitation that I wanted you to spoon with me and grope me. Take note: I Did Not.
This morning as I left you to go to work, you were resting peacefully, nice and cozy and all doped up on your percocet. I wanted to climb on the couch with you. I wanted to pry open your eyes and peer into your soul and demand that you have in depth conversations with me. However, I feel if we have another episode like that one of us will end up smothered to death by a pillow.
I really appreciate your kindness and your need to be with me but as soon as you got into bed you started chattering. You wanted to talk. And talk. You wanted to discuss dreams and life goals and things that required lots of brain activity and all I really wanted to do was sleep. I tried rolling over and scrunching into a ball but that only spurred you on to move closer to me. It was as if you took this as an invitation that I wanted you to spoon with me and grope me. Take note: I Did Not.
This morning as I left you to go to work, you were resting peacefully, nice and cozy and all doped up on your percocet. I wanted to climb on the couch with you. I wanted to pry open your eyes and peer into your soul and demand that you have in depth conversations with me. However, I feel if we have another episode like that one of us will end up smothered to death by a pillow.
Monday, August 9, 2010
The Surgery
Well the time has come that you've all been waiting for...or possibly you've already forgotten that Craig had surgery and you've not been waiting on pins and needles for details...either way, HERE IT IS.
Friday 5:45 am:
5:45 is a time that I wasn't even entirely sure actually existed until I experienced it for myself. This is not a time that I would recommend getting up, EVER. So I'm getting ready and Craig's getting ready and everything seems to be going okay. All of a sudden Craig goes crazy. He picks this very moment to freak out and he convinces himself we're going to be late, the doctor won't do the surgery and the world is possibly exploding. This is the part where it all gets a little fuzzy but it went something like this: hysterics, screaming from both parties, hands waving in the air and finally the grand finale of Craig grabbing his keys and declaring that he's just going to head on to the hospital because he can't take a chance on being late...really Craig, REALLY?!
I just stop getting ready, throw my wet hair up, and grab Cooper and march out the door. I yell back at him that I'm leaving to go to Karen's and for him to just pick me up there. He apparently speed walks up the hill to grandma's house and they jump in the car (almost leaving Bec behind) and after I've dropped Coop off I'm heading toward the road so I can leap in, taking as little time as possible and I see them fly by. *sigh* It's going to be one of those days. Luckily grandma reminded Craig that he had forgotten something, HIS WIFE. They did turn around and get me but still, it doesn't feel very good to see your ride fly by.
Friday 7:30 am:
We get to the hospital without further incident (fifteen whole minutes early). We check in and boring things happen.
Friday 9:00 am:
Craig is prepped and just waiting to be taken back. About three different nurses plus assistants had come in and each one asked him his name and what he was there for. (I'm guessing a security measure). Joking, I said "hey the next person who asks you what you're here for you should tell them a sex change". Hahaha laughter ensues. Well...then they come in and pump him full of happy juice and let me tell you he was flying high. There was laughing. A lot of laughing. Then a new nurse came in. "Good morning sir, what's your name and what are we doing today?" Craig's answer was priceless. He smirks a little, giggles and says "A SEX CHANGE!!!" (In Craig's version of this story he tells people I "tricked" him into saying it...I say you can't trick the willing). So after that we kiss goodbye and they take him back and nothing is sadder than watching your soul mate be wheeled away...yeah, I may have cried a little.
Friday 9:36 am:
They make an announcement for the Sexton family to come to the front desk. There, they hand me a beeper (like one of the vibrating ones you get at a restaurant while waiting for a table) and explain that they will page me every sixty minutes AND any time there are any updates or changes from the O.R. They say they will do this by the beeper or just calling our name over the loud speaker. They also tell me that the O.R. just called and they had just started the surgery. Previously, the doctor had told me that the surgery would probably take forty five minutes and he would be in recovery for forty five minutes so I was hoping the next "page" I got was letting me know he was in recovery and doing fine...
10:20 am:
No word from the O.R. yet plus I hadn't been able to get a hold of Karen (my babysitter) who had my tiny little boy for the day. Normally she's at her store before 10:00 so when I couldn't get her on the phone by 10:20 I presumed her and Cooper had suffered some kind of horrible fate and were possibly laying in a ditch somewhere and something had went terribly wrong with Craig and that's why they hadn't called and basically my mind goes to the absolute WORST scenario because that's who I am!!!
10:25 am:
Finally get Karen on the phone. They weren't dead, only late.
10:40 am:
Okay MORE than sixty minutes has went by on this forty five minute surgery so it's time to get re-acquainted with the front desk. I go and inquire and they check the computer and say yes he's in recovery and they don't know why we weren't notified but they would let me know when I could go back and see him.
12:25 pm:
Still no word so this time I go back to the "staging area". (I have no flipping clue what this is called. It's the large area with all the beds where they have the people waiting to go to surgery and the people that just got done with recovery). I ask that nurse if he's back yet and she says no he's still in recovery. I'm like, "okay well the doctor said he would only be in recovery for forty five minutes, is something wrong?" She tells me she's sure it's fine and the front desk will let me know when he's back. Oh, the front desk! The front desk that's been so faithful to report back to me so far letting me know what's going on. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
12:30 pm:
They call and say we can go back to see him. We walk back and he's sitting up right, drinking a coke and laughing and talking...my guess is they forgot him in recovery and after we kept walking past the front desk and being persistent they rummaged around and found him. I know, it happens, you loose things. I do it all the time. Sometimes at Dipper's we forget orders and don't realize it until the crazy people start parading in front of the counter. I feel like this is the same type scenario except we're talking about my Craig and not a slaw dog.
1:00 pm:
Craig tells me he had a crazy dream that he told the nurse he was there for a sex change. Sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but that was no dream...He's like "OH CRAP!" Then the nurse comes in and tells him as soon as he uses the bathroom he can leave. He's like, "I guess we're about to find out exactly what kind of surgery I had..." Luckily all was well in that area. Then the nurse tells him to get dressed except that he can't bend down what so ever so I end up putting his underwear on to which he wiggles around a bit and serenades the whole process with stripper music. Yes, my high husband, gave me a reverse strip show.
Saturday 3:00 am:
Craig wakes me up, asking if I can get him some meds. After he takes his narcotic he starts to feel better and proceeds to try and carry on a conversation with me. It goes something like this:
Craig: "I'm not really hurting as bad as I thought I would be. Those pills helped, thanks. Thanks for going to the hospital today. I'm sorry I yelled this morning.
Me: (in a slightly comatose state) "mmmhhhmmmmhhm"
Craig: "It was good I didn't drive, I mean how would I ever have gotten my truck home. I couldn't have drove home...gosh, I'm just really not sleepy at all anymore."
Me: "If you don't stop talking and let me sleep I'm totally stealing the rest of your percocets."
Things we have learned:
-My husband is very, very fun while on percocets.
-Do not trust hospital staff when they tell you they'll update you. They are lying. (And the thing is I wouldn't have been near as worried if they hadn't made such a huge deal with the beeper and calling me up telling me they'd make sure I got updates).
-It's not smart to tell anyone to say something bizarre right before they get the happy juice.
One final tidbit into our weekend:
Craig: "Baby you've been so good to me since this surgery. How can I ever repay you? I mean you've waited on me hand and foot? When I get better what do you need?"
Me: "How about the next time I have a C-section (which by the way has to be WAY worst than your "hernia situation" and I did not come home with a bottle full of pills...), you at least get up in the middle of the night with the new baby for a week."
Craig: "Didn't I do that with Cooper?"
Me: "Your pills make you delusional."
Craig: "My pills make you mean."
Friday 5:45 am:
5:45 is a time that I wasn't even entirely sure actually existed until I experienced it for myself. This is not a time that I would recommend getting up, EVER. So I'm getting ready and Craig's getting ready and everything seems to be going okay. All of a sudden Craig goes crazy. He picks this very moment to freak out and he convinces himself we're going to be late, the doctor won't do the surgery and the world is possibly exploding. This is the part where it all gets a little fuzzy but it went something like this: hysterics, screaming from both parties, hands waving in the air and finally the grand finale of Craig grabbing his keys and declaring that he's just going to head on to the hospital because he can't take a chance on being late...really Craig, REALLY?!
I just stop getting ready, throw my wet hair up, and grab Cooper and march out the door. I yell back at him that I'm leaving to go to Karen's and for him to just pick me up there. He apparently speed walks up the hill to grandma's house and they jump in the car (almost leaving Bec behind) and after I've dropped Coop off I'm heading toward the road so I can leap in, taking as little time as possible and I see them fly by. *sigh* It's going to be one of those days. Luckily grandma reminded Craig that he had forgotten something, HIS WIFE. They did turn around and get me but still, it doesn't feel very good to see your ride fly by.
Friday 7:30 am:
We get to the hospital without further incident (fifteen whole minutes early). We check in and boring things happen.
Friday 9:00 am:
Craig is prepped and just waiting to be taken back. About three different nurses plus assistants had come in and each one asked him his name and what he was there for. (I'm guessing a security measure). Joking, I said "hey the next person who asks you what you're here for you should tell them a sex change". Hahaha laughter ensues. Well...then they come in and pump him full of happy juice and let me tell you he was flying high. There was laughing. A lot of laughing. Then a new nurse came in. "Good morning sir, what's your name and what are we doing today?" Craig's answer was priceless. He smirks a little, giggles and says "A SEX CHANGE!!!" (In Craig's version of this story he tells people I "tricked" him into saying it...I say you can't trick the willing). So after that we kiss goodbye and they take him back and nothing is sadder than watching your soul mate be wheeled away...yeah, I may have cried a little.
Friday 9:36 am:
They make an announcement for the Sexton family to come to the front desk. There, they hand me a beeper (like one of the vibrating ones you get at a restaurant while waiting for a table) and explain that they will page me every sixty minutes AND any time there are any updates or changes from the O.R. They say they will do this by the beeper or just calling our name over the loud speaker. They also tell me that the O.R. just called and they had just started the surgery. Previously, the doctor had told me that the surgery would probably take forty five minutes and he would be in recovery for forty five minutes so I was hoping the next "page" I got was letting me know he was in recovery and doing fine...
10:20 am:
No word from the O.R. yet plus I hadn't been able to get a hold of Karen (my babysitter) who had my tiny little boy for the day. Normally she's at her store before 10:00 so when I couldn't get her on the phone by 10:20 I presumed her and Cooper had suffered some kind of horrible fate and were possibly laying in a ditch somewhere and something had went terribly wrong with Craig and that's why they hadn't called and basically my mind goes to the absolute WORST scenario because that's who I am!!!
10:25 am:
Finally get Karen on the phone. They weren't dead, only late.
10:40 am:
Okay MORE than sixty minutes has went by on this forty five minute surgery so it's time to get re-acquainted with the front desk. I go and inquire and they check the computer and say yes he's in recovery and they don't know why we weren't notified but they would let me know when I could go back and see him.
12:25 pm:
Still no word so this time I go back to the "staging area". (I have no flipping clue what this is called. It's the large area with all the beds where they have the people waiting to go to surgery and the people that just got done with recovery). I ask that nurse if he's back yet and she says no he's still in recovery. I'm like, "okay well the doctor said he would only be in recovery for forty five minutes, is something wrong?" She tells me she's sure it's fine and the front desk will let me know when he's back. Oh, the front desk! The front desk that's been so faithful to report back to me so far letting me know what's going on. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
12:30 pm:
They call and say we can go back to see him. We walk back and he's sitting up right, drinking a coke and laughing and talking...my guess is they forgot him in recovery and after we kept walking past the front desk and being persistent they rummaged around and found him. I know, it happens, you loose things. I do it all the time. Sometimes at Dipper's we forget orders and don't realize it until the crazy people start parading in front of the counter. I feel like this is the same type scenario except we're talking about my Craig and not a slaw dog.
1:00 pm:
Craig tells me he had a crazy dream that he told the nurse he was there for a sex change. Sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but that was no dream...He's like "OH CRAP!" Then the nurse comes in and tells him as soon as he uses the bathroom he can leave. He's like, "I guess we're about to find out exactly what kind of surgery I had..." Luckily all was well in that area. Then the nurse tells him to get dressed except that he can't bend down what so ever so I end up putting his underwear on to which he wiggles around a bit and serenades the whole process with stripper music. Yes, my high husband, gave me a reverse strip show.
Saturday 3:00 am:
Craig wakes me up, asking if I can get him some meds. After he takes his narcotic he starts to feel better and proceeds to try and carry on a conversation with me. It goes something like this:
Craig: "I'm not really hurting as bad as I thought I would be. Those pills helped, thanks. Thanks for going to the hospital today. I'm sorry I yelled this morning.
Me: (in a slightly comatose state) "mmmhhhmmmmhhm"
Craig: "It was good I didn't drive, I mean how would I ever have gotten my truck home. I couldn't have drove home...gosh, I'm just really not sleepy at all anymore."
Me: "If you don't stop talking and let me sleep I'm totally stealing the rest of your percocets."
Things we have learned:
-My husband is very, very fun while on percocets.
-Do not trust hospital staff when they tell you they'll update you. They are lying. (And the thing is I wouldn't have been near as worried if they hadn't made such a huge deal with the beeper and calling me up telling me they'd make sure I got updates).
-It's not smart to tell anyone to say something bizarre right before they get the happy juice.
One final tidbit into our weekend:
Craig: "Baby you've been so good to me since this surgery. How can I ever repay you? I mean you've waited on me hand and foot? When I get better what do you need?"
Me: "How about the next time I have a C-section (which by the way has to be WAY worst than your "hernia situation" and I did not come home with a bottle full of pills...), you at least get up in the middle of the night with the new baby for a week."
Craig: "Didn't I do that with Cooper?"
Me: "Your pills make you delusional."
Craig: "My pills make you mean."
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Not to be Outdone...
I decided to write a blog tonight. Because...my friend Jennifer just started a blog. (here's where I would link to it but I already closed out my facebook page and I can't remember the address). Just find it on my facebook page. It's awesome. It's more interesting than mine. It's her first day and she's already done a rap. (Darn my exclusively lily white roots).
Speaking of 'rap' and the fact that it always reminds me of 'rape' (no, not because I'm some southern racial profiler but rather because I'm a horrible speller so any words that are similar I have to stop and sort out in my brain which one is which). This one time in elementary school we had to write a story and I wrote about my wallpaper. (I know, I know, I didn't get out much...). But I had this wallpaper that had elephants and well, a lot of other safari animals but I mostly remember the elephants. So anyway my story (I almost wrote "my blog" right there but blogs didn't even exist when I was in elementary school). Kids around the world are going, THAT'S A GOOD STORY GRANDMA. Who am I kidding, kids around the world don't read my blog....A-N-Y-W-A-Y, so in my STORY I wrote about how the animals came to life and played with me and I titled it 'The Magic Wallpaper' but my teacher misunderstood me when I started reading it aloud and stopped me and was like "you wrote a store called 'THE MAGIC RAPER?!?!" I decided that if I ever did write a highly inappropriate, wildly unpopular children's book, I would name it 'The Magic Raper'.
So, my friend Jennifer, she wrote a blog...(that really is what I was trying to get to). And she posted TWICE today, which makes me feel inadequate. I mean it's okay that I worked two jobs today and then got home late because a tree was across the road (thanks for that, mother nature). It's okay that even if I fell asleep RIGHT NOW I would only get five hours of sleep. Don't worry Jennifer, I'll try to keep up with your break neck speed of publishing blogs...rant over. I'm tired. Plus it wasn't really a rant, it was just a haha. (There's a real name other than haha but did I mention that I'm tired and I can't think?) Ruse? No. Banter? Or does that have to take place while actually conversing with someone? I give up.
So I took my cats to the vet today and got the monster vet. There are two really, really nice vets at my office and one bruha that is evil. (Guess which one I always get?!) She has the demeanor of a dim lamp shade and she pretty much tells you, you suck at being a cat-mom then she always finds a way to tell you your animals are probably dying.
Before she came in the exam room it was just the vet techs and they were doing all the preliminary stuff so I got Dudley out of her cat box and explained that she "had a little bit of a weight problem" except I did it all funny like Chris Farley did in 'Tommyboy' and then I called her my "chunky monkey". They were all like "oh no honey, we get cats in here all the time that are like 25-30 pounds, she's fine!" Then evil herself walked in and told me that on a scale of 1-10 for risk factors Dudley was at a 9 for developing hip problems, diabetes, joint discomfort, blah, blah, BLAH. And guess how much she weighed? 12 pounds. That's it, twelve. That seems on the high side of normal for a cat so I'm not worried. Plus I've had experience with this vet, her philosophy is "every animal is on the verge of death". I kid you not, it's not just me, I've talked to other people who's seen her and they said the same thing as they came out in tears, clutching their cats to their chests just waiting for them to take their final breaths...then five minutes later they realize the lady's C-R-A-Z-Y and they just ask to not be scheduled with her again. The woman would never make it as a counselor. People would go with minor issues and before their hour was up she would have them convinced they needed to go home and kill themselves.
So...I've had all of my dishes washed up all week except for tonight. And tomorrow is when my mother in law is coming to stay. Lucky for me, she's not a judger. Not like some people's mother in law's which shall remain nameless although you'll recognize them from their limp, as I have it on good authority they may be getting beaten with a cane soon...
Tomorrow is Craig's hernia surgery where he "re-claims" his belly button, as he says. I'm nervous for him but also glad he's getting it taken care of. (Did I already blog about this last time or just think about it. Something sounds really familiar). Great, now I've completely run out of things to blab about and I'm just starting over. Anyway prayers are appreciate, both for a speedy recovery for Craig and also the lifeline of this blog, which I fear the end may be coming near for. I want to pull the plug and put it out of it's misery but I still have hope that something really exciting will happen that more than three people care about and that will breath new life into it.
In closing I just took a sip of water (city water from dipper dans) and I had the urge to spit it back out and say (IN NAPOLEAN'S DEADPAN VOICE), "the defect in that one's bleach".
The end. Forever. (just kidding).
Speaking of 'rap' and the fact that it always reminds me of 'rape' (no, not because I'm some southern racial profiler but rather because I'm a horrible speller so any words that are similar I have to stop and sort out in my brain which one is which). This one time in elementary school we had to write a story and I wrote about my wallpaper. (I know, I know, I didn't get out much...). But I had this wallpaper that had elephants and well, a lot of other safari animals but I mostly remember the elephants. So anyway my story (I almost wrote "my blog" right there but blogs didn't even exist when I was in elementary school). Kids around the world are going, THAT'S A GOOD STORY GRANDMA. Who am I kidding, kids around the world don't read my blog....A-N-Y-W-A-Y, so in my STORY I wrote about how the animals came to life and played with me and I titled it 'The Magic Wallpaper' but my teacher misunderstood me when I started reading it aloud and stopped me and was like "you wrote a store called 'THE MAGIC RAPER?!?!" I decided that if I ever did write a highly inappropriate, wildly unpopular children's book, I would name it 'The Magic Raper'.
So, my friend Jennifer, she wrote a blog...(that really is what I was trying to get to). And she posted TWICE today, which makes me feel inadequate. I mean it's okay that I worked two jobs today and then got home late because a tree was across the road (thanks for that, mother nature). It's okay that even if I fell asleep RIGHT NOW I would only get five hours of sleep. Don't worry Jennifer, I'll try to keep up with your break neck speed of publishing blogs...rant over. I'm tired. Plus it wasn't really a rant, it was just a haha. (There's a real name other than haha but did I mention that I'm tired and I can't think?) Ruse? No. Banter? Or does that have to take place while actually conversing with someone? I give up.
So I took my cats to the vet today and got the monster vet. There are two really, really nice vets at my office and one bruha that is evil. (Guess which one I always get?!) She has the demeanor of a dim lamp shade and she pretty much tells you, you suck at being a cat-mom then she always finds a way to tell you your animals are probably dying.
Before she came in the exam room it was just the vet techs and they were doing all the preliminary stuff so I got Dudley out of her cat box and explained that she "had a little bit of a weight problem" except I did it all funny like Chris Farley did in 'Tommyboy' and then I called her my "chunky monkey". They were all like "oh no honey, we get cats in here all the time that are like 25-30 pounds, she's fine!" Then evil herself walked in and told me that on a scale of 1-10 for risk factors Dudley was at a 9 for developing hip problems, diabetes, joint discomfort, blah, blah, BLAH. And guess how much she weighed? 12 pounds. That's it, twelve. That seems on the high side of normal for a cat so I'm not worried. Plus I've had experience with this vet, her philosophy is "every animal is on the verge of death". I kid you not, it's not just me, I've talked to other people who's seen her and they said the same thing as they came out in tears, clutching their cats to their chests just waiting for them to take their final breaths...then five minutes later they realize the lady's C-R-A-Z-Y and they just ask to not be scheduled with her again. The woman would never make it as a counselor. People would go with minor issues and before their hour was up she would have them convinced they needed to go home and kill themselves.
So...I've had all of my dishes washed up all week except for tonight. And tomorrow is when my mother in law is coming to stay. Lucky for me, she's not a judger. Not like some people's mother in law's which shall remain nameless although you'll recognize them from their limp, as I have it on good authority they may be getting beaten with a cane soon...
Tomorrow is Craig's hernia surgery where he "re-claims" his belly button, as he says. I'm nervous for him but also glad he's getting it taken care of. (Did I already blog about this last time or just think about it. Something sounds really familiar). Great, now I've completely run out of things to blab about and I'm just starting over. Anyway prayers are appreciate, both for a speedy recovery for Craig and also the lifeline of this blog, which I fear the end may be coming near for. I want to pull the plug and put it out of it's misery but I still have hope that something really exciting will happen that more than three people care about and that will breath new life into it.
In closing I just took a sip of water (city water from dipper dans) and I had the urge to spit it back out and say (IN NAPOLEAN'S DEADPAN VOICE), "the defect in that one's bleach".
The end. Forever. (just kidding).
A whole lot of Nothing
So I've started like three blogs in the last two days and then decided they were too boring for words and people might throw up in their mouths if they had to read them. To be honest this one isn't showing very much potential either.
This morning Craig tells me he didn't have time to get his lunch so instead he stopped by the atm and grabbed a $20.00. Really? I had already fixed your lunch all you had to do was grab it out of the fridge but REALLY NO, I see your point that stopping by the atm was soooooo much faster...
Cooper was still asleep this morning when I carried him to the car and then when I sat him down his eyes popped open and he goes "scooby doo snack?!" (Which is the scooby doo go-gurts that we freeze like a popsicle). I tell him that I forgot it and maybe Bec will come down and get him one later. He says, "need one real bad now mama". After that, how could I resist, I went back in and got him one.
So I get to work and Alida asks me if I remembered to tell Marie she needed to take extra time at lunch to go to the doctor. I tell her no, I never saw Marie after she told me that yesterday. Then a few minutes later Marie calls, annoyed at me that I didn't tell her Alida's leaving early for lunch. So let me get this straight, Marie yells at me because I forgot to tell her that Alida is leaving early. WHERE IS THE LOGIC IN THAT?! *sigh*
So Becca and me are taking Dudley and Jay-Jay to the vet today. I'm afraid that the vet is going to take one look at Dudley and demand that she go on a strict diet. Poor baby cat chunky monkey, she's fluffy like her mama.
That is all for now. Hopefully interesting things will happen to me in the near future. Until then...
This morning Craig tells me he didn't have time to get his lunch so instead he stopped by the atm and grabbed a $20.00. Really? I had already fixed your lunch all you had to do was grab it out of the fridge but REALLY NO, I see your point that stopping by the atm was soooooo much faster...
Cooper was still asleep this morning when I carried him to the car and then when I sat him down his eyes popped open and he goes "scooby doo snack?!" (Which is the scooby doo go-gurts that we freeze like a popsicle). I tell him that I forgot it and maybe Bec will come down and get him one later. He says, "need one real bad now mama". After that, how could I resist, I went back in and got him one.
So I get to work and Alida asks me if I remembered to tell Marie she needed to take extra time at lunch to go to the doctor. I tell her no, I never saw Marie after she told me that yesterday. Then a few minutes later Marie calls, annoyed at me that I didn't tell her Alida's leaving early for lunch. So let me get this straight, Marie yells at me because I forgot to tell her that Alida is leaving early. WHERE IS THE LOGIC IN THAT?! *sigh*
So Becca and me are taking Dudley and Jay-Jay to the vet today. I'm afraid that the vet is going to take one look at Dudley and demand that she go on a strict diet. Poor baby cat chunky monkey, she's fluffy like her mama.
That is all for now. Hopefully interesting things will happen to me in the near future. Until then...
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
A "perfect" life
Some people. Ugh. I swear I don't know who they think they're kidding. I have some facebook friends that have a distorted view of reality. Their children are perfect, their husbands are a dream and their houses are immaculate. Really?!
My kid pooped in the floor the other day. Then he chose to copy me right when I chose to call someone a "SLUT PUPPY!"
My husband puts snap n pops under the toilet seat to give me heart attacks and he spend all of our money on tools.
My house...don't even get me started on my house. We don't have halls, we have "trails".
And all of this is OKAY. I'll take my feisty kid and my hilarious husband and my "well lived in" house.
I'll take my "normal life" over your "distorted view of perfection" any day!
My kid pooped in the floor the other day. Then he chose to copy me right when I chose to call someone a "SLUT PUPPY!"
My husband puts snap n pops under the toilet seat to give me heart attacks and he spend all of our money on tools.
My house...don't even get me started on my house. We don't have halls, we have "trails".
And all of this is OKAY. I'll take my feisty kid and my hilarious husband and my "well lived in" house.
I'll take my "normal life" over your "distorted view of perfection" any day!
Monday, August 2, 2010
Be afraid, be very afraid
On our "Caution Wet Floor" signs at the office (which always seem to be in the hallway...) they caution you to "wetness" in three different languages.
I have absolute OCD when it comes to reading words in front of me. If I'm driving behind a truck I read the logo over and over again. I turn my water bottles "name side" away from me so I don't spend all day chanting "deer park, deer park, deer park" and finally anytime I walk anywhere if I see a word or collection of words I read them. Every. Single. Time.
Unfortunately I see the wet floor signs no less than 385 times a day so I can with confidence warn three separate groups of people of impending danger. Now I have no idea what the other two languages are but I am tempted to try it out.
The next time I see a foreign person I think I'll look terrified, cover my head and scream "CAUTION! ACHTUNG! CUIDADO!" If they in turn look horrified and run for their lives I'm pretty sure I can consider myself trilingual. (At least when it comes to warning of wetness).
I have absolute OCD when it comes to reading words in front of me. If I'm driving behind a truck I read the logo over and over again. I turn my water bottles "name side" away from me so I don't spend all day chanting "deer park, deer park, deer park" and finally anytime I walk anywhere if I see a word or collection of words I read them. Every. Single. Time.
Unfortunately I see the wet floor signs no less than 385 times a day so I can with confidence warn three separate groups of people of impending danger. Now I have no idea what the other two languages are but I am tempted to try it out.
The next time I see a foreign person I think I'll look terrified, cover my head and scream "CAUTION! ACHTUNG! CUIDADO!" If they in turn look horrified and run for their lives I'm pretty sure I can consider myself trilingual. (At least when it comes to warning of wetness).
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