What happens during a single vacation day

My husband took off work today so that I could get some dental work done.  Most of you know that I do require taking an anxiolytic in order to agree to any painful dental procedures.  It was nice to have him around in the middle of the week.  He even went grocery shopping and cooked dinner!  It was great.  :)

While my husband was out at the market, I took the time to whip up some icing to go with the "chocolate chip cookie cupcakes" I created last night at my 4 year old's request.  We rarely let him eat sweets, so he got to have one of the cupcakes, so I had a bunch left over.  I figured I'd experiment with a new icing flavor to go with the cupcake creation.  Of course I had to taste test a cupcake when I was finished.  I got halfway through the cupcake, and the sugar had me in a near coma.  (Sweets and I have a love/coma relationship.)  I quickly abandoned half the cupcake at the table, icing making equipment and ingredients all over the kitchen counter, and crashed on the sofa.  My husband came home, and took one look at the scene and started laughing.

Me What?

Husband It's like a cupcake crime scene in here!  Dirty mixer, sugar spilled on the counter.  Drips of vanilla.  A half eaten cupcake.  And my wife passed out on the couch.  What is going on in here?!

Me Perhaps the spawn of a chocolate chip cookie and a cupcake is a bit much for me.  Another bite would have been lethal.  Don't throw it out.  I'll be back for the other half as soon as I can get off of this couch.

Husband Of course.  That's reasonable.

My son had come into the room, and was eager to tell me all about their shopping trip.  He was very upset that my husband had put the free cookie club cookie in his pocket, and it broke.

Me Why did you have a cookie in your pocket?

Husband Well, he wasn't ready to eat it, so I had to put it somewhere.  Don't worry, I explained we do not put things in our pocket at the store that are for sale.  I told him this was like the free piece of cheese they give the kids.  It's a free sample, and that is different.  We only put the free cookies or free cheese in our pockets.

Me Actually, I prefer he doesn't put any food in his pocket.  ESPECIALLY the free cheese.

Husband Why not?  Pocket cheese is the best.  Especially when Mommy finds in in your pocket days later when she's pulling clothes out of the washer.  Mommy loves that!

Me No, nope.  Mommy never loves that.  Just eat the free cheese, and be done with it.  No cheese pockets.

This really could be another example of "When Daddy's in charge."  I haven't even mentioned that he gave the baby animal cookies and sausage for lunch the other day.  You did not read that wrong.  Blech....

After the whole pocket cheese incident, I decided to have my revenge through Dora.  My son was insisting on watching Dora, and we hate this show.  Mostly because it's simple, boring, and she screams at you the whole time. 

Me Hey, kiddo.  Daddy saved that for you?

Son Yeah, I wanted him to record it.

Me Awe, that was nice.  Daddy LOVES Dora.

Husband See, son, that is called "sarcasm".  Mommy was taking moment to teach a lesson about sarcasm, and give you a good example.  Daddy really does NOT love Dora.  He doesn't like it at all... If he did like it, he would like it ironically.  Mommy thinks she's being funny.

Me See, kiddo, he really does like Dora.  He probably wants to watch it with you every day.  When he says he'd like it ironically... that means it's his very favorite show.

At this point, my husband was just rolling his eyes and walking away.  It was probably for the best.  He did start making dinner, though, so maybe he found inspiration in Dora to be a better person.  


In other news, Happy 200th blog post! 

It's official, I can build stuff!

Our favorite Friday night show (maybe overall show, actually) was not on tonight, so my husband and I decided to put up a frame for part of one wall in our basement.  We are finishing off half of the basement as a family room.  (The other half contains an office and storage already.)  Well, we did it!  It's level, too!  I know, hold your applause.  We did use a chalk line at one point, and my husband read off the warnings on the package before we used the doo-hicky thing to make the chalk line.  I only noticed he was speaking, but didn't hear what he was saying.  After we snapped the line I tasted chalk, and realized it was on my hands, too... probably also in my hair and eyes.

Me Honey, what did that package say about breathing in that chalk, or getting it in your eyes.  Oh, and also getting it on your skin.  Should I be wearing gloves?

Husband It says "For super duper good health, breathe in chalk very deeply.  Also, apply to skin liberally, then touch your eyes."

Me We should probably do it again, in that case.

I'm so glad you can get a straight answer around here.  Anywho, the frame is up, and I believe our house is now officially worth two dollars and fifty cents more than it was before we started the project a week ago.  As my husband said:

Husband We're exactly like Mr. and Mrs. Viva.

Me What do paper towels have to do with this?  We are paper towels, or the inventors of paper towels?

Husband What are you talking about?

Me What are YOU talking about?

Husband Like Bob Viva.

Me Vila... Bob Vila.  Yes, exactly like him.  Maybe you should lay off breathing in that chalk.


One more thing for the night... I miss you D!  I'd say I wish everyone could have you as a friend, and be as blessed as I am... but that's not true.  I want to hog you all to myself.  That is probably why we had to be moved to opposite ends of the country... anytime you have something you want to keep to yourself, eventually you do have to share.  I hope the west can recognize how awesome you are, and that they appreciate you... otherwise I'll be super pissed that I had to share.

He's like the greeter at Wal Mart, except all his customers are dead

It's time for another installment of "Things Heard 'Round this House".  Today all of us were letting our crazy out.

*This first conversation was on the way to drop my son off at school.  I'd been up all night with an unhappy baby (still with this perpetual ear infection), and was ragged and exhausted.)

Son Good morning dead people!

Me Mommy's not dead, honey.  She's just very very tired.

Son Not you!  I'm talking to those dead guys over there.  You know, the bones in the dirt?

Me *noticing the cemetery* Oh, yeah.  Dead people ARE over there.

Son Yeah, they were probably poisoned.

Me Wait!  What?!

So, that started our morning.  I didn't even really get into where he had come up with that idea, because I was so tired and I had a hunch that it was going to be a long, very complicated explanation.

*Later in the day, my husband was home from work, but had gone down to his office to work some more.  It was past the time for him to be off for the day, and I was hauling ass trying to cook, get the kids situated for dinner, and not fall asleep standing up.  I finally went down to his office, gave the universal sign for "cut", which also looks like "I will cut you", when you have crazy lady eyes, and then I realized he was on the phone.*

Husband, to his employee Well, my wife just came down here to my office to tell me that I better get up to dinner now, or she is going to beat me with her frying pan.

Thankfully, most of the folks he works with have a sense of humor.  If not, well this guy at least has a pretty accurate first impression of me now.  It's also fun to note that no matter what sign language I use with my husband, he always translates it to "I'm going to beat you with a frying pan."  He knows me like no one else does.... it's like he sees into my soul.

*And this last gem came from a tiny clip my husband caught from Parks and Recreation tonight, where April says "Don't listen to me, I'm drunk." and inspired a mini-rant from my soul mate.*

Husband I wish you were like that!  You're all "Listen to me!  Do exactly as I say!", and you're very persistent.  "Stop the car!  The road won't stop moving!  How can you even DRIVE like this?"  Even after I tell you that YOU are the drunk one, and I haven't even had a drink, you still demand that I have to pull over because it's just too dangerous.  Or, how about your "You know what, it's one AM, let's stop at the grocery store and pick up some carpet shampoo!"  You know how that ended?  I picked up some carpet shampoo, like an idiot, at 1:00 in the morning!  You just will NOT give up, and you come up with the most ridiculous ideas.  You really need to switch to "Don't listen to me, I'm drunk."  That would be so much easier.

Me I'm going to start doing that.  Just for you.

Husband Really?

Me Nah, don't listen to me.  I'm drunk. 
 

Bee mine... or else!

This thing terrifies me.  I think it will eat your brains.  Naturally, I bought it for my mother for Valentine's Day.  Also, she hates bees.  I do love her, but she made me this way.  So, you see, it's kinda her fault.  But isn't this guy creepy (to say the least)?  It's probably best if she keeps him at her office.  I wouldn't want to fall asleep in the same room with it.

Maybe my new name should be Mabel....

I know that previously I mentioned I am a 58 year old man , but apparently I have transformed into a 90 year old woman.... at least while I'm watching tv.  I realized, while watching tv tonight, that I've developed some odd habits that only come out while I'm watching a show I have previously recorded.  How hard is it to watch tv?  Not that hard, one would think... unless you've spent so much time on the planet creating memories that you do not possibly have enough room left to simply remember where you have sat the remote from minute to minute.  Each time a commercial comes on, I reach for the remote to skip over it.  Everytime I reach for the remote, it's not there.  Then I have to hunt for it.  Sometimes I actually just give up and watch the commercials, or get distracted by something on my laptop and forget I have even turned the tv on.  If it's the latter of the two, then you can pretty much guarantee enough time will pass before I remember I was watching something that I then have to reach for the remote to rewind to where I left off.  Then we are back to searching for the remote again.  Then I swear at myself, ask the imaginary people in the room (or worse... my cats) "where is the damn remote!"  Like it's some conspiracy.  I also have started a running commentary on several of the shows I watch.  I offer opinions on how believable I feel the story is, how well the character development is, and what I think will happen next. 

Sometimes my husband watches tv with me, and he just lets me go.  I think it's just that he is simultaneously turning into a 90 year old man.  He probably doesn't hear me muttering to the television, and offering my notes for better editing.  Either that, or he's just frightened by my possession and thinks it's safer to just keep quiet.  However, judging by his new hobby of butting into phone conversations with a good:

"What are you saying?  Fuzzy turtles?"
or
"Who is that, is that your mother?"
or
"Are you telling her about the sale on organic bananas?"

I suspect he's just morphing into a senior citizen.  (Sorry to all the seniors out there who don't have the same problems that we have... I don't think all seniors handle remote controls and other people's phone conversations this way.  I just didn't expect this kind of behavior out of us for another, oh, let's say 40 years.  Apparently we're overachievers.)

Another solid example of his sudden advancement in age?  He asked me if I wanted to go out tomorrow for "supper" at 4:30.  Forget botox!  How do we erase the signs of aging on our behavior?  I mean, when I suggested we go out at a more normal dinner hour, say 6pm, he recoiled and explained "I don't think we want to be out at that place on a Saturday night like that."  I had to remind him that we were young once (like last week) and 6pm did not then, nor does it now, qualify as Saturday night!

What is happening here?  Well, I'm watching a show now, actually, so I need to search through these blankets to find the remote so I may rewind and see what I've missed.  Hopefully I won't doze off before the show is over.  If that happens, I'm signing up for AARP.

MIA... but not the kind that flips the bird on national tv

I know my posts have been spotty, at best, lately.  If you've guessed "sick kids, again" as the reason, you win!  You don't win anything really, because I wouldn't have had the time to run out and put together a little prize bag, but you could brag about it, if you'd like. 

Now is the part where I dish out some unsolicited advice... I accidentally discovered that the health benefits of zinc are, in fact, not at all exaggerated when it comes to preventing illness or reducing the severity of illness.  I take zinc every day for my hair.  I didn't while pregnant or nursing, but this fall I resumed taking it.  My sons have been sick since labor day, with only a 1-5 day break in between illnesses.  This is not an exaggeration.  My husband has caught nearly everything they come down with, as well.  I, however, have only caught one cold.  It was terrible, but it was only one of the many the rest of them suffered through.  Then, when picking up some Zicam, as recommended by another nurse friend of mine, I noticed it's just zinc.  That's when it dawned on me.  That is why I haven't been sick.  So, it's not such a funny post, but this post could save you some miserable colds... or at least shorten them.  Twice I did have a sore throat for less than a day, but then it vanished.  There you have it.  My own, accidental, science experiment.  Where was this in high school, when I had to think up my own projects on purpose?

PS, If I already wrote about zinc, sorry, I'm sleep deprived & zinc does squat for that.

On a sillier note... today we were watching a TED talk, and it was about marriage.  The woman giving the "lecture" put up a picture of that "porn for women" calendar... you know the one... all the hot guys doing chores... dishes, vacuuming... etc... Well she said they did a study, and the more a man was willing to help with the domestic work, the more attractive he seemed to his wife, and, therefore, the more sex they had.  I would point out here that they didn't have to waste time or money on a study, but she pointed out that it was unnecessary already.  They simply could've asked any wife, and she would have agreed.  One hour later, my husband starts telling me how he had done some dishes, and taken care of our cat's box...

Me "Wait, are you name-dropping chores, now?"

Him "Yes, are you impressed?"

Me "Well, when you walked in the room earlier, for a moment there I was all 'Wait, who IS that sexy beast?'."

And, if you watched "30 Rock" tonight, after we were done our snarky laughter, we got back to our hot night of "normaling" with diaper changes, trying to talk to each other while brushing our teeth (so pointless, but strangely amusing, and one of our only chances to talk to each other, uninterrupted), and complaining about how dry the air is in this place.  I know... RENT A ROOM!  At least then we could get a full night of glorious, uninterrupted, delicious... sleep.  Speaking of sleep... goodnight!

What a pain in the neck... both literally and figuratively.

As you may have previously read, I had some dental work done last week, which set off a series of events that lead to my neck being injured.  After 2 hours with my neck cranked back all the way, and my jaw held open, my neck was stiff.  Later, reaching for something, I felt something like a shock go down my arm and my arm go numb.  Then, to top it all off, I lifted my son into his booster seat, and twisted my neck.  That was the last straw, apparently, because I lost nearly all range of motion.  It was seriously painful... a 7-8 on a scale of 10... all the time.  Even resting. 

My sister knew what I was going through.  Suffering from neck and back pain herself, she understood all too well.  She is lucky to have a friend who is a massage therapist... and I'm lucky enough to have my sister to send said massage therapist over to my house to fix me.  I'm a very lucky girl!  It was the best thing I could've done to help my neck.  The massage therapist was wonderful.  She was calming, helped me relax, and knew just what to do to help me.  A lot of the knots I have were obviously there for a long time.  I just had accumulated so many, it was too painful to ignore anymore.  She found them all, loosened them up, and today I have much greater range of motion.  I'm a little tender, but it's nothing like this past week.  I couldn't be happier.  I even felt some of the stress I was under melt away.  Enough of the gray cloud lifted that I started to see little bits of my usual self shine through.  It's been a long time since I've felt like myself. 

On a related note, but kinda off topic... I got my camera back today.  I haven't really blogged about what happened, because I like to either put up things that I can write about in an entertaining way, or, like above, tell a story that I think might help someone else who gets into a similar situation.  (Moral of above story... sore neck?  get a real, full on massage!  Stressed out?  Massage for that, too!)  But, this story is just mean and depressing.  It ends with me deciding I no longer had it in me to show up somewhere to be insulted, put down, one upped, humiliated, whatever she came up with to pester me about anymore.  Then I left my camera there... and we had to go back today to get it.  So there is your laugh... seeing the comedy in announcing you won't be back and then having to immediately go back.  Only I could be so dumb.  Oh well!  I have my camera, and I have my self respect.  So, really, I worked at getting rid of 2 pains in my neck this week.  One pain shows I stress too much, work too hard without remembering to play hard, too, and take on too much, creating stress and tension.  The other pain shows that I can never work hard enough to please her. 

Alright, in need of a lighter note to end this post?  Kid-ism of the day!

Son *explaining his dream to me* I had a dream about a funny monster.  He was really just silly.  He kept coming over to my basket of death, and putting dead things in it.

Me You have a basket of death?

Son Yeah, it's for dead things.

Me Well, okay then.  Where is it?

Son It's just in my dream, Mommy!  


Me Thank goodness, because I seriously think that thing would start to stink sooner rather than later.




 

Note to self...

When you finally draw the line and tell someone you won't be coming back to deal with anymore mistreatment... do NOT leave your camera behind with a zillion pictures of your children that you have not backed up to your computer.  *frowny face*