Catching up…
I’ve been away. Nothing big has happened and I think I have a tendency to do this for a few months out of the year. Usually from September to or through April. Ok, maybe a better way to say it would be that a few months out of the year I’m ok. Anyway, moving on…
I have a house. I want to sell it. I want to build a new house. We actually have the opportunity to do that. What I seem to be lacking is time. It always comes back to time, or the lack thereof. Even once I have some of that elusive time thing, other people want it and I’m all “leave a bitch alone” in my head. I think these things but then I hear what is suspiciously my voice saying things like, “sure, not a problem”. I’m working on it.
Have I bitched about my inability to conceive? If not, I need to say I’m having issues getting pregnant. The issue is that I’m not. It took 3 years to get pregnant with my son and apparently, at least that many to have the next child. I’ve run out of ways to explain the roller coaster ride of joy that experience has become. We’re working on it. My hubby had his sperm counted, there’s plenty and they’re healthy. I had blood work done and contrary to popular belief, my hormone levels are indeed normal. The next step is an HSG. Look it up. It involves x-rays and is internal. Hubby gets to jack off into a cup, I get to spend 15 minutes in pain. This is fair because?
I had my brother live with us for a short period of time. This was because my mother’s home was and still is a dilapitated turd. I thought we could help. I was wrong, we could not. My mother is/was a hoarder of animals but I guess I can say she was a good hoarder. She tried to take better care of the animals than she did herself or my brother. But, my brother is 21. It’s not like someone should be taking care of him at this point. Over 70 dogs were signed over to the SPCA on Christmas day and we’re moving on from that. My brother is not here now and I have my office back. Do you know how hard it is to write a bitch-fest when the second you stand up, someone swoops in like a buzzard on roadkill? PC does not mean public computer. It’s personal computer not public.
So, today I’m just zoning when I shouldn’t be. I should be washing the hubby’s 3 loads of laundry, packing the house and doing whatever it is that I should be doing. Yesterday was the memorial service for my best friend’s mother. It was cancer. I wish you supposed adults would stop fucking around with that. Apparently, The Big C does not fool around. My dad was 43 when he died. Her mother was 53. Both of them were scared of it being serious so they ignored it. Can someone learn a lesson from this?
That’s all for now.
Add a comment April 23, 2008
Soccer Mom
Officially, I am a “Soccer Mom”, admittedly, I do not fit this role well. The Kid is 4 and has limited organized sports experience. Limited as in, never having played real sports because I don’t think we can count “Sunshine League”. That is an entire series of posts for another time. Soccer is what The Kid has wanted to do since Dora wowed us all with her Super Soccer Kick. Funny enough, when he decided that he was going to be a soccer player he also made it clear that I was going to be a Soccer Mom. Those are his words, not even kidding. He begged and pleaded and while I had no issue with him playing, he just wasn’t old enough. I managed to slip him in past the birthday cutoff this year and was hopeful it wouldn’t be an issue.
Who was I kidding? We all have issues in this family.
If ever I wondered about The Kid’s attention span, well, this experience has confirmed that he doesn’t have one. We’ve spent a few nights hanging our heads in shame as he goes through the Power Ranger imitations, talks to his buddies and runs off the field MID GAME to sit with a ponytailed blonde. I do have to say, The Kid’s endurance has improved immensly since starting and he does have a genuine love for the game and that has been my only concern. As long as he continues to love the game and the experience of playing, then I will continue being his Soccer Mom.
I do have to say that I’ve had some moments of, well, full-on-frustration. Not so much with him but with other parents. Since this is his first real go at sports, I figure it’s for fun and since it’s only clinic, that we don’t have to worry about winning. I wish others felt the same way. Mothers shouting at their kids to be in position, get the ball, get out there and so on really do ruin the experience. They also drown me out as I’m yelling for The Kid to stop picking grass, get the ball out of his shirt, pull his hands out of the net and to get out of the bushes.
I mean, really, you’d think they could be more considerate especially when it’s a given that 15 minutes before the end of practice and games that they’re all picking grass, being chickens and looking at airplanes. That’s how we know it’s almost time to go.
1 comment October 17, 2007
Orientation
Tomorrow is the big day. The Kid and I are headed over to his preschool for orientation. This is it people, his final year of preschool. After this, do you know what is expected of me? I’m expected to put him on a school bus and send him away for 8 hours. I’m sure by then, I will be a swinging door of emotions. One minute, giddy over the endless possibilities of accomplishment during a QUIET day and the next, devastated that my baby is leaving me. I won’t lie, I’ll be a mess, it’s a year away and I’m a mess thinking about it now.
Sadly, my kid loves his school. He is excited to get up and go. Why can’t he be that excited over Walmart? I suppose it’s better for him to be excited and willing to go instead of one of those kids that is screaming and hanging at the knees of their parents. That was never my kid. Never has been and I’m pretty sure it never will be. It’s a little late in the game to decide that you want to be tied at Mommy’s apron.
So, tomorrow morning at 10 am, I will bravely trek the 4 minutes away to our preschool so he can meet his teacher and classmates. I won’t cry, I promise. I’ll save that for Monday.
Add a comment September 5, 2007
Beating down the Emo-baby…
and I promise that I won’t let her post on the blog again unless it’s absolutely unavoidable. Good grief, the only thing that was missing in my first posts here was some Robert Smith in the background and a razor.
I AM NOT ENCOURAGING OR CONDONING THAT BEHAVIOR, CALM DOWN.
I do encourage The Cure, I’m just mildly annoyed and yet mesmerized by the culture that seems to have grown in the last 15 years sort of around a band that’s more than 30 years old. That being said, I can move on.
Now, can anyone tell me where I can find some, oh it pains me to say this, vintage Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles merchandise? The 3yo watched the vhs copies of the movies and was elated at the Walmart commercials featuring toys that we will not be able to find unless by some miracle they are in a box in the barn. Let’s add to the poor kid’s frustration when he goes into Hot Topic and the TMNT are only available on girl things. He’s all for equal opportunity but he’s pretty sure that’s not fair and I’m pretty sure I want my childhood left untainted.
Add a comment June 4, 2007
True Love
I have been with my husband for almost 15 years and after awhile, you run out of things to do. So it was with great disappointment that the uber-cool place that we were going to on Friday didn’t happen because of our uber-not-so-cool bills. It happens and we made do with a nice dinner out after a magnificent display of restraint when my husband decided to go for a walk to clear his head. At 8 in the morning. Without telling me.
Our son walked around the house yelling for his Daddy and I just assumed he was somewhere with the laptop and headphones. I joined the search after a few minutes and found that yep, the kid was right, he was missing. I grabbed the keys, threw a coat on the kid who was still in his pajamas and started out the front door just as my husband was coming back in.
I did one of those “Where were you, don’t do that to me” slaps on the shoulder. You know, it’s the thing where you’re so annoyed but relieved at the same time, nothing mean about it. I just wasn’t prepared for my husband to scream in my face and I’m sure he wasn’t prepared for me to tell him to get out.
I’ll be honest. I grew up with that and made it my little marriage mantra growing up “I’ll NEVER marry someone like my dad”. Well, I did in many ways and my husband hates that I think that. What he doesn’t realize is that his screaming at me, completely out of nowhere was more like my father than he will ever know. After that little display of love we talked for a long time. Stress over money tears us up and while money can’t buy happiness, it can buy choices of which we have very little right now. It’s hard but again, we’ve been at this for 15 years now. I’ve had him in my life longer than I haven’t and he never realized the importance of that until the other day. His fear in life is me leaving because he “can’t get his sh*t together”. Honestly, if that was going to happen, I’d have done it years ago because the man has never had it together and here’s a secret, mine’s not all that neatly packed either. Plus there’s the fact that I do love my husband, our family and life so much that “irreconcilable differences” are something that we learn to deal with. I guess that means they’re not really irreconcilable though.
Anyway, in the end, he apologized for screaming, I apologized for swatting him because apparently it stung and his last comment on the episode? “Now do you believe me when I say that I would never hit you” which begged the question, “Now do you believe me that I would kick your ass if you did”.
That’s love right there.
3 comments April 16, 2007
Happy Day
Today is the dh’s birthday. I have nothing planned for him for today. I suggested he take tomorrow off and we’d do something uber cool with the boy. It’s going to cost us over $60 to even walk in the doors of the uber coolness that is the MD Science Center but it will be worth it. His present is getting to spend time with us. He really doesn’t get to do it enough and the burden of cost was lightened a little by his parents. They surprised him at his work, took him to lunch and gave the obligatory card but included cash. I’m happy that they did this, he seemed happy to have spent time with them and talk with his dad.
BUT
I won’t lie, I’m annoyed that I’m sitting here on the couch watching the dog chase her butt and the boy pretending to shop at Walmart. Let me tell you, I live the life baby.
Now, dh’s birthday has had me thinking anyways. For my birthday last year, I was given a karaoke machine. No, wait scratch that. I was told I was getting a karaoke machine. He never actually bought it, claiming that it was such a personal gift that he wanted to make sure I had all the features I wanted. Ok, so Christmas rolls around and that is about when he finally ordered the thing. We hooked it up and it was broken. He is still driving around with the thing in his car, fighting with Ace Karaoke to get the machine replaced. Some advice, don’t go through Ace Karaoke for your drunken entertainment needs. I finally told him the other night he should just return it. I didn’t say it in a mean way, just a “you know what, you might as well just return that thing”. Yes, I’m aware that I sound like I just walked down the mountain when I compose sentences out loud. That’s not what we’re talking about right now, so shh.
I’m not sure how this happens but I always put more into his birthday and occasions than he does. It’s not a contest and I’m not doing it just to see how it benefits me. I do it because I want to do these things and I love seeing the smile on his face when he gets something that he’s been longing for. When I gave him the acoustic guitar for our anniversary, the look on his face as he pulled it out of the box, started tuning and strumming was priceless. There was no look on my face at any point because I didn’t get anything for our anniversary.
For my birthday in 2005, he bought me a beautiful cake, pink with roses and my proper name spelled out. NO ONE calls me by that and EVERYONE wanted to know why he did it. Our anniversary then? I can’t even remember. Our 5th anniversary in 2002, oh that was a treat. I gave him a stainless steel Bulova watch with a blue dial and he gives me a stack of wood. He had designed a custom doll case to hold a porcelain doll. The problem was, it wasn’t finished it in time and still hasn’t been.
So, again, why do I do it? Because I care about the man, I love him more than I could ever imagine caring for a person that I didn’t have a blood tie too. Does this mean he doesn’t aggravate the hell out of me and make me feel like crap when he “forgets” or “run out of time”? Of course not. If anything, it gets me more-so. I’d say that I could stop caring but I worry so much that it would hurt him if I forgot that I could never do it.
I suppose one of these days I’ll figure it out.
Add a comment April 12, 2007
Ta-da.
I recently started a blog for my family. Mind you, it was about 4 years later than I promised but I did it, what more do you want? Anyway, in the process of setting up the page, I came across a dilemma. Ok, not necessarily a dilemma but an annoyance that created a dilemma. It also provided an opportunity for that ugly beast Hypocrisy to raise her head. I know she’s a she. Has to be, now just bear with me.
Anyways, I can only be so clever with what I have and what I have is a last name that is 4 letters long and easily found in a book. Any attempts at brain power were thwarted by people who apparently have cyber-ADD. I mumbled, muttered and moaned every time one of my cute and clever titles came back as “unavailable”. As the female of the species is more inquisitive than the male, I proceeded to find out who had the audacity to take away my potential blog title.
Weeeeellllllllllll, it would seem that blog-making is a decision made on a whim and lasts no longer than the first post that details how the user is so excited to finally be on the web with one of those blog things that everyone is raving on. Then nothing. Nada, zilch, zip, finito? No, not finito because it’s still hanging there! Blogs from January 2005 just taking up space with their lonely posts on standard issue templates. It’s sad really.
So sad in fact that I became nostalgic and was reminded of this little place online called Vox. I have a poor sense of direction and a short attention span. This is how I found Vox. With one haphazard click, I begin a downward spiral that will end up pages and hours away from where I innocently started on a fairly regular basis. Fairly regular being daily.
Since a great fear in life is being hypocritical I rushed over to Vox’s website and attempted to log in. I just had one itsy problem and that is that I have neglected to remember the password, email account, screen name and so on and I guess that’s ok since I never even made the aforementioned introductory post. At this point, Hypocrisy was sent to the naughty mat and I said “to hell with it” and dragged myself back over to Blogger which resulted in disaster. The word hell was paired with the word handbasket and I had no choice but to delete and come to WordPress. A certain level of anonymity is required here as you will soon understand.
I have no idea what this blog will be for. I make no promises other than I will ramble on to my own discontent. I’m a happy person but I have issues and since I’m not ready to fix my own I worry more about the issues of those around me. I have avoidance finessed in ways that some can only dream.
There was a time I would write and I have come to another time in my life where I need to write. Unfortunately and I’m still concerned how this came to be but my personal writings became a burden to those around me. Ironically those around me were the ones driving me to write. They felt I needed to express myself since they could see the stress literally boring an infectious path through my insides. So I wrote and they didn’t like what they read, in some cases without permission, and told me that I had no right.
Maybe tomorrow we can talk about my guilt.
1 comment April 8, 2007
