Shit Still Be Happenin'

Ok. Anybody still out there? I know, Where the HELL have I been! Um, sorry folks, the work load has really been a brute. I really shouldn't even be writing this now. But I thought I should check in. Especially since Little Man is now OVER A YEAR OLD. Holy shit where has the time gone? I actually took a few minutes to read one of my regular Blogs today and felt bad because I'm not sitting down writing Little Man long letters chronicling what has been going on in his life thus far like apparently all mom bloggers do. In fact, often times I feel like I am letting him down, or not doing enough. He is old enough now that I feel over the weekends he is BORED. There is so much going on during the day at daycare, I don't know how we can possibly compete and still have food and clothing available to us.
But I digress. So many things have happened since Little Man came into our lives. He turned one! And we had a party. No one from Back East came. Per F's orders.  There were many, MANY ear infections. I believe last count had us at 8.  They started when we enrolled him into daycare after my mom said she just couldn't do it any more. At four months old I handed my sweet little man over to someone else to care for. NOT. EASY.
Because of the ear infections we had tubes installed, just after his first birthday.  A month later, another infection. The ENT that did the surgery pretty much blew us off, and every doctor at our pediatrician's office had a different opinion about the effectiveness of tubes.  Needless to say, we've switched care providers on both fronts. So far, so good.
  F took Little Man BY HIMSELF Back East. Because I continue to refuse to stay with the out-laws, F decided that the cost of staying in a hotel was too much and given several options, chose the one where I stayed home. I can't say I was thrilled to have Little Man out of my line of sight for several days considering where he was going, but they both came back none the worse for wear and Little Man's bedtime routine was still the same. NO RETRAINING required. Bless us Lord. Amen.
After coming back from said trip F was already talking about the next one for this summer. *heavy sigh*
Things with the outlaws are still contentious. I suppose I am so used to my own mom's hands-off approach that when they start questioning, poking, nagging, I get annoyed and shut down.  My own problem I know.

Anyway, happier note! Little Man has hit all his milestones. I cannot tell you how relieved that makes me feel. He is a little on the small, side, but he makes up for it with his massive amounts of personality and mischief making.
We just took him for his 18 month check up, all is well!!! My ears and heart delight each and every time he says "Mom-mah" and I hope that is how he will always say it. He and Puppy have their moments. Sometimes she'll play with him, most times she runs from him though. He loves to read and knows exactly where his books are kept, or "boo(k silent)".  He has my heart he does.
 There is so much to share, I can't tell you all of it because I can't remember all of it! I can't say I will do better about keeping you informed, but I will try. Often times I forget I even have a blog.

I hope you all are well! I wish you a fabulous long Memorial Day weekend! God Bless our Troops!!!

You're Right. What Could I Possibly Know?

So I just had a co-worker try to convince me that my out-laws, "Can't be THAT bad. They CAN'T BE THAT BAD." She smiled and slowly shook her head at me like I was a silly little child who was upset that the sun was going down.
And that really made me angry. She knows many of the tales. Has crinkled her face in disbelief. And yet here she was, telling me I couldn't possibly be right.
I often do think that maybe I am being overly sensitive. Constantly on guard with them. That I should give them more slack. And then things happen or are said and I'm right back to where I started. Shaking my head and kicking myself for being so naive. Wondering why everyone keeps telling me that's just how it is and I should just deal with it.

So I come here, and I reread what I've written about the visits.  Relive the moments, the statements, the questions and some times I feel vindicated and other times I feel doubt.
Like when MIL heard of my plan to wait until Little Man was 6 months old to start feeding him solids, she wagged her finger at me via Skype and said, " You listen to ME honey, if you don't feed him food now, he won't like anything later!"
Um, what? Doesn't one of the nephews you pretty much raised only eat chicken nuggets? And he's 8? Soooooooo, what again??
Or how she gave me a necklace and out right lied about "having one made for you from The Homeland because you said you liked mine."
Oh, you read that and think how sweet! why is she complaining? I can't stand being lied to, especially when you give me a broken piece of jewelry as a gift and tell me it is new, especially made for me. To me that is an insult to my intelligence. And this is when I question myself. Just let it go! I say to myself. She is TRYING. But then my other side says, Is it really trying if it is lies and broken items?
I drive myself crazy with the back and forth!

 The constant battle between F and I over his family is harmful. Here it is almost 4 months out and I'm already stressing about heading Back East for Christmas. No matter what we do, someone is going to be miserable. I of course prefer it not be us.
How do you make yourself not care? How do you make yourself the person who is always seeing the bright side of things? How do I become Zen? How I ask you,  HOW?

It Has Begun

Last Post I told you of the impending trip Back East to visit with the Outlaws. From day one the "discussion" about where we would unpack our suitcases began. It has not been pleasant. I made my case, crossed my arms over my chest, drew my line in the sand and considered the discussion closed since F agreed to a hotel.  MIL on the other hand does not agree. And over a month later she is still harassing F. Still crying to him on the phone.  F is absolutely beside himself with guilt and God only knows what other feelings are churning inside him. I can only guess at what is being said to him. And it makes my blood absolutely boil. I am stressed out by extension because I know if I would just give in and agree to stay there, things would be pleasant. For the moment.
I have however made up my mind that I am standing my ground. My little family deserves to be treated with love and kindness, not anger and disappointment. No matter what we do, there is always something that makes them unhappy.  And by "them" I mean the entire family.  We don't visit often enough. We don't get there fast enough.(I'm not exaggerating about this.) We don't stay long enough. We don't spend enough time visiting with each family member. We don't allow MIL to make us enough meals.
It is exhausting.
And stressful.
And sad.
F is between a rock and a hard place. Visiting with family should be exhausting, but because you've done so many activities and late night card games, not because you've been emotionally tormented.

If anyone has any suggestions on how to deal with this, I would greatly appreciate them.

Blessed Be Bitches

Today Little Man is 5 months old! I cannot tell you how much we love him. It isn't quantifiable. As much as I want him to stay the same, I love all the changes I see in him. His smile is a heart melter, let me tell ya. FLIRT just like his daddy.

Anyway, I believe I promised you a Baptism story.  F did all the planning. I did all the shopping.
There were countless discussions about where the Outlaws would stay upon their arrival. F of course wanted them housed with us. I of course, did not. I managed to make enough logical points(or so I believe) that they, and the other out of towners, stayed at the local hotel. How this went down with them, I don't know, F has taken to not telling me certain things where his family is concerned, but I am sure it was not received well.
MIL immediately dedicated herself to telling me that Little Man was catching his death of cold in the meat locker I kept him in while dressed in mere rags. This continued for the next 4 days. Even when we were in a restaurant that I kid you not, was above 80 degrees and Little Man was in his sheep skin lined car seat, with fleece pants and jacket on. I told F to remove said fleece jacket so he wouldn't over heat. "Isn't he cold?!!!!" MIL quivered worriedly as F reached to do as I asked. He stopped dead mid-air.
"No, he's not. F, take the jacket OFF."  F did as I asked. Bless him. Crazy Best Friend was seated beside me and later gave me her take on the whole situation.
"They must think you are one bossy bitch."
"What?!!? Why?!"
" 'F! TAKE OFF HIS JACKET!!!'  Seriously DH, you were bitchy about it."
I was floored. I floundered about for why she, who knows me so very well would say this. We are decidedly honest with each other and I knew she wouldn't say something, obviously, just to make me feel better.
"I'm going to guess you didn't hear MIL say "Isn't he cold!?" "
"She did?"
"Yes."
"Oh, well then, you were fine."
As the long weekend came to a close CBF saw more and more instances of MIL questioning my parenting choices and of her "poor pity me, I'm such a victim" manipulation tactics. They are subtle, but they are there.
 I'm not going to lie, it was nice to be validated. I'm not just being over sensitive, these things really do happen.
Every time I would try to take Little Man into a separate part of the house behind closed doors to feed him or try to quiet him down for a nap or just because he was being over stimulated by all the activity, MIL would hunt me down, burst into the room without knocking (I breast feed in my own home with it all hanging out, no cover); and insist that I needed help. Was she truly wanting to be helpful? Maybe. But I took it as her continual questioning of my parenting skills. I had been doing it without help up to this point, why did she keep insisting that I needed it?
MIL's parting conversation with me? In a heavily concerned voice; "DH. I don't know how you can do it *heavy sigh* but you MUST find a way to keep him warm in there (Little Man's bedroom)." (a room that has its own free standing heater. Set at 70. With the door closed.) 
 FIL on the other hand insisted that Little Man, at all of 3 months, smile on demand. And became disgusted when Little Man didn't comply.
He was told a day in advance at what time he needed to be ready to leave for the church.  15 minutes from departure time he insisted that he needed another 30 minutes to get ready. F hit the roof. FIL managed to get himself together in the allotted  time but upon arriving at our house, REFUSED to get out of the car and come in.  True to form he was grouchy and sullen for most of the visit. After picking up CBF at the airport and getting her settled into the hotel we went back to our house. The moment my foot touched the tile FIL demanded, "WHAT IS GOING ON????!!!!"
Bewildered I asked, "What is going on with what?"
"With M and L!"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Have they landed!!???"
"I don't know. Didn't F leave to go get them from the airport?"
"YES. But they were delayed because of the snow. So what is going on! Are they coming here or what??!!!"
"I haven't heard anything from F, so I don't know what is going on. You know more than me. Have you called him?"
"YES. He's not answering."
He was not at all happy with my lack of knowledge and glared at me until F and his passengers walked through the door and then it was as if the long lost son (M, not F) had returned.
When Little Man would start to cry he would loudly inform me, "HE'S HUNGRY! Feed him!"
By the end of the long weekend I had all I could do to continue to bite my tongue.  M even mentioned to F that he was shocked when I snapped at FIL after FIL had informed me that my son needed feeding. I didn't even remember doing it. I was that exhausted by dealing with them. (Later I would also realize that I was coming down with the stomach flu that weekend, so yay!)
The stress was was insane for both F and me. I felt bad for him and how his father was behaving.
But we made it through intact.

I may be recovered by the time we head BACK EAST to visit with them for a week in June.

You Won't See This Pregnancy Story On TLC

My pregnancy had been pretty easy. All the NSTs (non-stress tests) had gone very well. Little Guy was a mover and a shaker. So much in fact that my very first NST landed us in the Hospital because they couldn't get a clear read on him. But an hour and half later I was back home chillin.
Yes, I had Gestational Diabetes from pretty much day one and was put on insulin, but I was doing incredibly well controlling it. My Dr had agreed to let me go to 40 Weeks if everything in that area stayed under control. She knew I didn't want to be induced. And I felt we were well on our way to a "normal" delivery pretty close to my due date.
Um, yeah, no.
I think it was about week 35 that things started to go haywire. 
At one visit my Dr informed me that I had dilated to 2 cm. But in my gut I knew I was no where near ready to deliver. Then my sugar levels started to drop. Which in turn made my insulin needs drop. Not a lot, but enough. In fact it took me a few late night sweats for me to figure it out.  I was in the middle of week 37 and was desperate to go to week 40. My Drs decided that because my need for insulin had dropped, that my pancreas was shutting down and the baby needed to come out ASAP. I was not at all pleased with this. At WORK, on a Wednesday the Dr shut down my hopes by telling me that I was to come in on the following Monday. After I calmed down a bit, F and I were able wrap our heads around a Monday delivery and even made plans for the weekend. Luckily we went shopping for a few important baby items. Thursday, the very next day, the Dr called me at work again and told me I was to report to the Hospital THAT VERY NIGHT.
 I freaked the hell out.
 I was not ready for this! I truly felt that if I had the weekend, my body would do it's job and make the baby ready to come. I still had an appointment with the Dr that afternoon and hoped I could push this whole thing back to the original Monday plan.
Then the Dr called again and said there was no room at the Inn for Thursday night but hey, come Friday!  I'll see you at your appointment!!
No, no, no. I still needed that extra day to finish work! I still needed that extra day to find some peace with this. The Dr would not budge. Even though in two weeks I'd only dilated HALF a cm more. Nope doesn't matter; Friday, come on in!
I knew in my core that this wasn't necessary. That the baby was FINE and we could make it just a little longer. Let my body do what it was meant to do. I thought about refusing to go through it all, but I knew if putting this off meant something would then go wrong and Little Man would somehow be affected, I would never forgive myself. So I relented.  We went in on Friday morning, and were late getting there. They still didn't have a place for me, so we ended up waiting. Little did we know that it was going to be  waiting game for a full day while they monitored me and Little Man. We were none too pleased to discover this since we thought by Friday night we would have a baby. Not so much.

It only got worse once I was "settled" in my room and the medical side of things started. Needles and I are not friends. IVs and I are mortal enemies. So needless to say when they stabbed me 6 times before they managed to get the IV in; I almost passed out. My mom told me later I was whiter than the pillow case. Then my sugar crashed because I hadn't eaten since 6 am ("something lite" like I was told, total bs, btw, eat as much as you want) and my system was used to snacking right about the time they decided to stab me.  By noon time they were just starting the medicine to get my cervix to dilate, since it wasn't doing it on its own. (duh) Little Man and I were continually monitored throughout the day.  At 2 pm I still hadn't been feed, and was being told that wouldn't happen until after I delivered. MANY HOURS LATER. (WTF?) When the Dr on rotation came in and told me that they might send me home to rest for a few days and "let things progress naturally" then bring me back, on MONDAY to try again; I had all I could do to not start swearing up a storm and crying like a little girl. They were so worried about the baby that they MADE me come in and be induced, but NOW it was ok to send me home?  At home who would monitor me, the baby, my sugar that was low, or my blood pressure that was continuing to climb? The nurse did her best to talk me into it, but she couldn't answer any of my concerns. Needless to say nothing more was said on the topic.  The new nurse ordered me food on the sly at 5pm.   VERY late Friday night I got feed again, again on the sly, because within the hour they would start the Pitocin to induce contractions.  By Saturday morning I still hadn't progressed much more. All day long on Saturday they pumped me with pitocin and monitored my sugar and blood pressure. Throughout the day they upped the pitocin dose until they finally maxed it out.  Late Saturday afternoon they broke my water which kicked the barely felt contractions into high gear. That in turn made my blood pressure soar. They put me on bed rest and the nurse highly encouraged me to get an epidural because my blood pressure just kept climbing. I had wanted as natural of a birth as possible. Granted, I hadn't completely ruled out the epidural, but to me it was a last resort. However, putting me on bed rest due to my blood pressure killed all the plans I had to walk, shower, or use the birthing ball to help the process along. So I went along with it, I mean, if I was going to be confined to bed, why should I suffer? F had just left to get something to eat, but he came running back to be there when they stuck me, IN MY SPINE. Yeah, a NEEDLE in my SPINE? SERIOUSLY? Thank God that stuff is fast acting. They put a skull monitor on Little Man and one inside me since I wasn't going anywhere and it would give a more accurate reading of his heart rate and my contractions. I still had to fight to be feed and was only allowed broth, and they were still talking about a vaginal delivery. At this point, a day and a half in with 2 sandwiches in my stomach and no real sleep to speak of, I was beyond that. I was tired, extremely hungry and knew there was no way I would have the strength for "4 to 6 hours of pushing, people do it all the time." WTF????  Yes, this wasn't the way I wanted to give birth. But NONE of what was happening was how I wanted to give birth. I probably could have done it, but I still knew that my body was not ready for a vaginal delivery.

Late Saturday night/ Early Sunday morning they stopped the pitocin to give my system a break. They started it up again about 3 hours later. For a total of 27 hours of pitocin. I think it was a record.  I was so incredibly bloated it was horrifying. I could have given the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man a run for his money.  During the night Saturday Little Man's heart rate went down a few times. Just before 7am Sunday morning I was still stuck  at being dilated 6cm  and 70% effaced.  It was at this point that they decided to do a C-Section. I was fully on board at this point. I just wanted to be done. Poor F had all of 15 minutes to pack up all our stuff so it could be moved to Recovery. He saw his son born while still in his slippers, pj pants and a t-shirt.  They stuck me AGAIN to have a "fresh IV line", so I had TWO flipping IVs in me for the next several hours. At 8:54am on Sunday they pulled my little baby boy out of me. And then stapled me back together, again WTF??? STAPLES???????????
So yes, I didn't really get to "deliver" or "have" my son. He was taken and then given to me. But damned if he's not the  most precious thing I know.
The next several days in the hospital were surreal.  Nurses, Doctors, Aides, all came and went. Little Man and I struggled to breast feed. He was so tiny and thin!! I felt like my huge boobs would crush him. Family came the same day. I fell asleep on more than one visitor. F and I were so spent. Hospitals are not known for their restfulness. Twice I sent F home to try and get some sleep in a real bed. It didn't really help.  
Finally we were released into the wild as a new little family unit. As we pulled out of the parking lot it hit us full force. We had a baby in the back seat!!! Holy crap, now what???? There wasn't going to be anyone checking on us every hour, no call button to bring immediate answers.
SHIT.
We were on our own. On our own with a little 6 pound 6 ounce person. There would be no leaving him in the car to run into grab a pizza. Those days were gone.
Do I wish it had all gone differently? Of course. Did the end justify the means? To a point. I will always believe things could have progressed on their own just fine if left alone. But when I look at Little Man and he smiles at me, I know I would do it all again.
He is the best gift God could ever have given us.

Baby Chicken Legs

Pinch Hitter

We are closing in on the end of the whole I'm PREGNANT phase and approaching the I'M A NEW MOM phase. And honestly, I am a little sad to see the end of the pregnancy. I've had a really good one with few problems and I'm not going to lie, I enjoy the special treatment. Who wouldn't? I get to sit and watch Ghost Hunters while F cleans the house? Um, YES PLEASE. I get to nap instead of doing laundry? Where's the pillow??? Seriously, I could really get used to the pampered lifestyle.
But I know it is coming to a close. And I am ready to meet this Little Man who loves to punch his mommy in her bladder making her stop in her tracks while the ringing vibration of the hit subsides. I am ready to be done with the swollen feet. The end of October and I am still wearing flip flops because it is the only thing that fits. I am also ready to be done hearing F say, "Well how can you TELL your feet are swollen??" When CLEARLY they are 4X their normal size and there are strap marks from your flip flops still cutting across your foot an hour after you've removed your shoes and propped your feet up. When the doctor looks at you at during your appointment and says, "So, how's the swelling?" as he hitches up  your pant leg to take a look at your "elephantinus" (Sailor Mouth's husband's assessment) ankles. And then proceeds to tell you that you better remove your wedding ring while you still can and put it on a chain to wear.  When I told F this new development that would require the purchase of a chain? "Just don't wear it."
Um, yeah. Cause the stigma of a pregnant lady without a ring is non-existent. I received no chain and have been "just not wearing it" and feel completely judged every time I go out. This brings us to the newest phase of being pregnant. The Birth Class phase. When I realized there were various classes offered I signed us up for as many as I dared before I thought F would start refusing to attend. F claims to not be a novice with this whole baby thing, but seriously, he so is. Some of his comments over the last 7 months has really made me wonder about his knowledge of the birthing process. It is minimal ya'll. We had our first class together this weekend. I was concerned about how he would take the 7.5 hours of birth Birth BIRTH!!!! But he did remarkably well. Half way through he said he was learning all manner of things. I was surprised but very glad that this was the case.  His interest began to wane at the end of the class when it was focused on making your baby momma more comfortable during labor. He was not pleased about being my pillow, but I did get a half hearted attempt at a back massage later that night, so something appeared to have sunk in.
What I'm finding "sunk in" was bits and pieces, not the full scheme of the "L&D" process.  I think we've discussed that  F is an engineer?  And hence has a VERY different thought process, very linear. When the instructor informed the class that at 35 weeks you are considered full term and can deliver safely anytime thereafter,  F heard "DELIVER ANYTIME, IMMEDIATELY." On the way home from picking up the crib mattress he queried as to how far, exactly, was I along?
"Just the start of 35 weeks."
"When do you start counting?"
"Well, on Wednesday I will be 35 weeks, 5 days."
"So the 35th week started.......?"
"Friday?"
"Yes, FRIDAY. So you could go into labor ANY MINUTE."
"Well, yes, I suppose."
"ANY DAY, ANY TIME!"
"Um, yeah?"
"We have to be ready, we HAVE TO GET THE CRIB!!!!"
"ooook."
When we got home he fixated on the crib and the need for it to be in the house RIGHT NOW.
This discussion brought me almost to tears because my feet were swollen, my back hurt, I'd just spent 7.5 hours in a class I really didn't need to attend and then was dragged to a sketchy Toys-R-Us to pick up the crib mattress. I was SPENT and just wanted to be done for the day.
We agreed that the next day we would go order the crib. Thankfully they had one in stock and there was no need to wait 6-8 weeks for delivery because I was due NOW NOW, ANYTIME NOW!!!!!
I thought after procuring said crib we'd moved on into safer, calmer waters of understanding.
I was wrong.
While at dinner at my mom's later that night the topic turned towards her readiness for the impending day and the need to put together her own hospital bag since I asked her to be part of my L&D team. And by "Team" I meant her, F and anyone with a medical background and a hospital ID badge. I made her a list as we discussed what she might need clothes wise F chimes in with, "You know, you really should line up some other (birthing) coaches. Like maybe call S_E_S."
"What?"
"Well, if labor really does last 20 hours (a factoid from class, 20 hours is the average from the very start to finish) then I'm going to need someone to relieve me."
My mom stopped mid task and stared at him.
My mouth was stopped from hitting the floor only because the kitchen table was in the way.
"WHAT?!" my mom and I said together.
"That's a long time, someone will need to relieve me."
"REALLY? And just WHO will I get to relieve ME and take over having the baby?"
"Well, no one."
"EXACTLY. If I have to be there the whole time, YOU have to be there
THE. WHOLE. TIME."
"Nuh nuh."
"Yuh Huh."

Yep, complete and total understanding.

Where We Are With The Pregnancy Thing

I've cut my possible baby name list in half. I've traded my visions of dresses and pig tails for vests and frog tails. And you know what? I love him already. I talk to him more, I smile when he tickles my belly from the inside, and I look forward to my little man's arrival. My little man. He has ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes and one strong little beating heart. I can't tell if he loves or hates the spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy's, but I know it makes him do baby gymnastics in there. He's growing right on schedule. I have finally relaxed about most of it. I am avoiding some things still, like research, and classes, which I know I need to do, but I have this fear in my heart and mind of jinxing his arrival if I get ahead of myself. Which in reality is probably making me be behind. But I think I'm ok with that.
I am not OK with the gestational diabetes. Because of my age and weight and "sugar history", they tested me super early, like week 8. It has been a constant battle of numbers since. Testing four times a day. Testing within an hour of eating; which can really take a toll on your personal life and vacation plans. Shooting up with insulin at the same time every night. I never thought I would be packing an insulin pen in my clutch at a recent wedding so I could stab myself in a stall in the lady's room. Counting, counting, COUNTING CARBS. Goodbye cheesy bread sticks! Hello STEAK. I have been doing quite well with this, I admit. I've "cheated" a few times. I had a scoop of ice cream for my birthday. But it has turned out to be much easier than I thought. Because I want to give this Little Man a chance. After everything to get him here, I want him to know happiness. So I have a bite or two of F's pizza before finishing off my salad. I've actually LOST WEIGHT. I can not tell you how many people have asked me if I'm really pregnant or not. As I type this in week 21? I am STILL wearing my regular pants! Who knew?!?!?!
So there you have it. A BOY. A Boy who has already stolen his momma's heart.

What DO You Know Costco?

So, what are you telling us about Mother's Day Costco?
Arrive with flowers AND a survival kit?
What if you have more than 4 people in your family?
If you buy 2, do you get a discount?

There Was No Snow for Christmas.....

And no Peace and certainly not Joy.

That's right my digital friends, F and I drugged and packed up Puppy and headed Back East to spend the Lord Jesus' Birthday with his family.
 I have to say that once again this year things were less drama filled than in the past. However, F and I found ourselves smack dab in the middle PLUMBING GATE: 2011. Please read here about the use of vinegar and baking soda. FIL attacked F about our use of T.P. as the cause of PLUMBING GATE: 2011. F HIT THE ROOF. He told FIL not to accuse him and his wife(that would be me) of causing a problem he (FIL) already knew he had and refused help in fixing. Apparently FIL's response was: "Oh, so you're going to be a MAN now are you?"
Oh, the love, it is overwhelming.
After this little male pissing contest we took MIL shopping. F turned on her in the car. She refused to talk about it which enraged F even more. He declared, once again, that we would NOT be staying at their house when next we visit. She declared that in THAT case we need not visit, AT ALL.

And here my digital friends is where FIVE YEARS ( i know, not all that long compared to some, but quite long for me) of keeping my peace came to a very dramatic end.
I LOST MY COOL.
I YELLED. YELLED. Not spoke sternly. Not through gritted teeth and pursed lips. FULL ON YELLED at MIL.
I don't remember verbatim what I said, but the gist was; Stop the drama! Do not Threaten us! Not visiting is VERY MUCH an option as far as I'm concerned, so DO NOT PUSH ME.
 F, was stunned. I was stunned. MIL was crying.
MIL's response was that she wasn't threatening us, that we just don't understand what it is like with HIM everyday since we are only there ONCE a YEAR and ONLY for a FEW Days. (ah, still able to get a dig in). It hurts her feelings that we don't want to stay in  her house; and how would we feel if she did that? I told her I wouldn't care. Whatever made her most comfortable was fine by me.

I apologized for yelling. And then I told her she could come visit us, that we want her to come visit us. She wailed that she can't go anywhere!
She was still crying, F was crying. I was shocked and horrified at myself. I was also waiting for F to lose his shit on me for losing mine on his mamma.
I did feel some sense of relief though, I have to say. My friend at work felt that it was unfair that MIL took the verbal beating for FIL, but as I told  her, she lets him get away with it and sits silently by as the victim. And who knows? A verbal beat down most likely is still in FIL's future.
Oddly enough, all was well after that. FIL even called a plumber. I wish I had been a fly on that wall for conversation with MIL and FIL about me losing my cool.  Why else would he suddenly decide to call a plumber? Maybe I am over crediting myself, but who knows. SOMETHING knocked some sense into him, if only temporally.
There were no ugly clothes received this year. W and T only fought once. The boys LOVED Puppy almost to death. No, really, they were very good with her. FIL groused that he had NO say in Puppy coming with us, to which F said we would happily have stayed at a hotel. Disbelief all around that a hotel would allow a pet. F and I both lost our cool with the boys once over a slapping incident. We both slept like shit despite the new mattress, see link above.
And, I did NOT get sick!! How amazing is that??

Look Into My Not So Crystal Clear Ball........

F's parents called.  Apparently when F went to visit them over Easter weekend; the night F left to come home, FIL had an earth shattering prophetic dream.  F was actually misty eyed when he got off the phone.

But here is my question, If it was so earth shattering and prophetic, why did it take an ENTIRE month for FIL to pass it along?

Ring In Already!!!

We are currently on the road heading Back East to visit with the Outlaws for the holidays.
I'm sure I'll have something to tell when I get back.
10 days can't be completely uneventful, right???
In the mean time, have a great Christmas and a fabulous New Year!!!!
Come on 2011!!!!!!!!!

Thanks-giving Me a Stress Twitch

I opted to Adult Up and host Thanksgiving this year. After the first year I did it, and almost killed my then BF (now hubs) my family was a little skittish. I assured them that there would be no repeat of a death match. All would be well, I had it all under control. Turkey? BAG, no basting required, painless.  Martha Stewart was providing the mashed potato recipe(somewhat doctored by me). Real Simple was providing a REAL SIMPLE green bean with bacon vinaigrette recipe. Mom provided the stuffing recipe, and the apple pie recipe. The grocery store provided the brown and serve rolls. "I GOT THIS" was my mantra. F insisted on coming along to do the grocery shopping. It is times like these that I wish he was as uninvolved in the kitchen as most husbands are.  I had a list that he keep wanting to deviate from, annoying. Then he insisted that he would go get all the fruit and vegetables because he a) knows better and more importantly (to him) b) he could get it cheaper at the fruit market. FINE.
I had the day before thanksgiving off. My PREP Day. I had at least 4 items I planned on checking off my list that day.  And that went downhill the minute I over slept. Until 11:30am. Yeah. Guess I needed it. I got up, showered and strapped on my "apron". One of F's old dress shirts with the sleeves removed. Hey, what can I say? When you've got the boobs I've got, you need more coverage that the average apron.  And I was OFF! to the couch to watch TV while I peeled and cored apples for the pie. If you bake apple stuff? Or any good sized fruit that requires peeling; You NEED one of these:

Time Saver!!

Then I went on to make the pie crusts, my second attempt only at making pie crust, ever! My brother laughed at me when I called about the crumb topping recipe, "Aren't you like 36? and you've never made pie crust before?"  Apple pie crust came out pretty well! I filled it with the apples and placed it in the freezer downstairs since the fridge was FULL. I moved on to the chocolate pie. At the rate I was going I knew I could still get the potatoes done and in the crock pot for the next day where they would just be warmed up through out the day. SCORE! Less stress baby!!!
Um, yeah. Not so much.
Being my mother's daughter I was all about making everything possible from scratch. The pie crusts, the potatoes, etc. I placed the second pie crust in the oven and while that baked I started the COOKED pudding, not INSTANT. My timing was near on PREFECT! Pudding finished just moments before the crust! Another SCORE! I was in my happy place! I could do it all bitches!! I was contemplating making dinner before F got home from work as well! I was feeling that good about my progress.
Pudding was cooling on the back of the stove. Pie crust was removed and placed on top of the stove.
And that is when it all fell apart.



PING! PING! PING! Yes, those are the sounds of glass pie plate hitting glass top stove

 



Amazingly I had the presence of mind to take pictures for you

 

My mother insisted I could NOT just place the crust in a new pie plate

Apparently, from what SIL who works for a glass company told me later at Christmas dinner, the minuscule drop of milk that was on the stove top created a vacuum with the glass pie plate which caused it to break. (yes I saw the milk droplet and thought nothing of it). At 4:30pm the night before Thanksgiving I found myself at the grocery store. OMG. What a crazy place!!! I raced down the aisle picking up things I had forgotten. I almost cried when the shelf where I purchased the two pie plates two weeks (at TWICE THE COST!!) before were EMPTY.  I had made up my mind to skip it and just use the metal pan I had at home when I saw a kindly looking employee. She assured me that there were more pie plates! But just WHERE, now that's the question??????? My heart sank again as she took to the meat section of the store. WHAT?? Who places a pie making display in the meat aisle!!!???
I stood in line with everyone else in town, the express lane was not so express.  I rushed home to start again on the crust. By now it was after 5.  The crust? Went in the trash. The two recipes are right next to each, one for two 8in pies and one for two 10in pies. I got them crossed and didn't add enough Crisco. TRASHED.
Things were going downhill fast. I still hadn't riped up and seasoned the bread so it could stale overnight. The potatoes were still in the bag. I started a fresh crust. It was super thin, but I was tired and hadn't had any dinner, so I patched it together, literally, and stuck it in the oven. By now the pudding was beyond set and cold. Lovely. Thankfully F had seen the need and started in on the bread for the stuffing.  When it came time to put the pudding in the crust, there wasn't enough pudding. The pudding was a good inch lower then the edge of the pie crust. It looked bad. Luckily I found a box of instant pudding in the cupboard, that however only brought the level up sightly.  I was on the verge of tears as F stated, "Just go to the store and get another one." He apparently has never been to the grocery store the night before Thanksgiving. Or made cooked pudding. I refused to go. I was done. I was giving in. Admitting defeat. I covered the pie and found room in the fridge for it.  I was dead on my feet. I couldn't think. I knew there was no way I could do the potatoes without staying up until midnight. It was already nine.  I cleaned up the kitchen, threw a few decoration up and called it night.
I figured getting up at 8 would give me plenty of time to do the potatoes, and green beans and get the turkey in the oven. I got up at 7:30. I should have gotten up at 6. Maybe even earlier.  I had read my mom's directions as closely as I should have, because I COMPLETELY missed the time line for making the stock.

Her exact directions: "(...)TURKEY neck, heart, giblets to pot and simmer for 1 hour - DO NOT boil.
you can make it a day ahead or VERY EARLY on Thanksgiving morning; keep simmering on stove ALL day so you can use it to moisten stuffing that's in crock pot while it cooks. may need more water or broth as day goes on."
I completely missed the whole ONE HOUR, and VERY EARLY. Yeah. PANIC. I called on F to help, "I'm SEVERAL hours behind, I need your help!! Please do the potatoes! The directions are on the fridge."
And by " Do the potatoes" I meant mash them and add all the ingredients and put them in the crock pot to keep warm. F started reading the recipe, completely failing to notice that that morning that I had already peeled and cut them. I see him dump the cooked potatoes out and start rinsing them.
 "What are you doing?"
 "It says they need to cool enough so I can rub the peels off (oh Martha, really? REALLY?) and then cut them up."
"F, look at them, they are already peeled and cut. Just mash them and add the stuff."
He looks at me, looks at the recipe, and starts to walk away, leaving the potatoes in the strainer.
"What are you doing NOW?????"
"They can cool, then I'll mash them later."
"No. Mash them, Now Please. They are easier to mash when hot (i have no idea if that is true.)."
"Fine."
"You'll probably have to do them in the crock pot."
Somewhere along the line he had add water to the crock pot. I had no idea how truly clueless he was about making real mashed potatoes.
He mashes the potatoes and starts to walk away again.
"You're done already???"
"Yeah, about 2 I'll add the stuff in and turn them on for dinner."

Mind you, at this point it is probably closing in on noon.

"Um, no. You need to do it now."
"It can wait, Trust me."
"No, it CANNOT wait. Dinner is at 3, do you really think they'll heat all the way back up in an hour??????"
"We can turn it on High." (his answer for any cooking temp, I swear to god.)
"F. PLEASE just do as I ask, OK?"
Grudgingly he complies.
I won't even go into the issues and arguments he gave me about making the stuffing. BREAD stuffing, something he has NEVER made in his life, and yet he KNEW how to do it!! (sarcasm in case you missed it) And then he questioned my brother when he arrived because he refused to believe I knew what I was talking about.
Long story short? I under estimated how long the turkey needed to cook. At 2 o'clock the timer still read 2 hours cooking time left. We were suppose to eat at 3.
At 2 o'clock when family started to arrive I was still in my yoga pants and a Renaissance Festival T-shirt.
At 2 o'clock when SES (martha stewart jr) arrived, I immediately put her to work making the Real Simple Green Beans with Bacon Vinaigrette recipe which was to be served cold, but only the beans, not the vinaigrette. Which was also cold, when we ate 2 hours later.
At 2 o'clock the apple pie was still frozen solid. I forgot to take it out of the freezer in the morning. I had planned to cook it in a HOT oven while we ate dinner. I was of course PETRIFIED that putting an extremely cold glass dish in a hot oven would result in yet another pie plate disaster (see pics above). I realized I could set it on a trivet on top of the hot stove to thaw.  It worked, mostly.
At 3:30 we decided that the turkey meet the temperature requirement and ES_BIL started to carve away. He hit pink meat close to the rib cage. Luckily we had enough cooked meat to feed everyone. The mashed potatoes were watery because I had put the lid on the crock pot to keep the heat in, and the condensation dripped back down into the potatoes. Who knew?
F forgot the salad and had to run out minutes before dinner and buy some.
So let's re-cap shall we?
Broken pie plate setting the schedule back by several hours.
Under cooked turkey.
Frozen apple pie.
Cold veggie dressing that was suppose to  be hot.
Watery potatoes.
Forgotten side dish.
Argumentative husband(when he wasn't being helpful.)
Me on verge of nervous breakdown to the point that ES keep rubbing my back telling it will all be ok and they didn't care if we ate an hour later.
The problem chocolate pudding pie crust? Tasteless.

At least my table was pre-set and looked pretty.



We went to four different stores before we found that table cloth at Khol's
 where we started


Oh, and no one got sick from under cooked food.
Amen.

Checkin' It Twice.....

Since so many men say they can’t read minds, including my husband, I put together a list of potential Christmas presents. I was trying to be helpful, especially because he told me rather recently that he never knows what to get me. (Despite the fact that I supply him a list each year.)


Here is the e-mail exchange AFTER he received and reviewed my list:

E-mail from F: “Subject: I take it that this is your xmas list?”

My response: “Yes”

His response: “Wow that is some list… not too sure about #1… nope to #2… maybe to #3…. Yes to #4, #5, #6 and absolutely surprised about #7… what if I already bought you something, should I take it back???”

Here is the list he is referring to:

1) A puppy(seriously, I am ready for a dog.)

2) Steak Dinner at [redacted] Steak House (high end steak place I’ve been dying to try)

3) Go see the Mary Poppin’s play in [redacted]

4) Go see The Nut Cracker somewhere

5) Adaptor for my CD player

6) A new bathrobe (I also asked for this last year, I got a digital camera instead)

7) Digital Video camera (if he is willing to buy a regular camera, why not a video camera??)


My response: “Why NO to #2?????

Of course you don't have to take it back. Of course you can use the list to ADD to it.....................”

His response: “#2 is not a gift… it’s something we can do as a dinner for ourselves…(ok, sweet, I’ll give him that. Now if it actually happens, that will be monumental) Will think about it…”



Ok, cool, that he thinks it is a dinner we can do together, but I’ve been telling him I want to go there for a year now. We still have not gone. Now I’m dying to see what I get. Did he really already get me something?? The suspense is going to kill me!

Last year in order to throw me off, he wrapped up two of his dirty t-shirts and placed them under the tree. You can imagine my surprise and confusion when I opened those.
He thought it was a great joke.

His mother, however, did not.

No Rocking Chair for Her

My Mom called me.

Mom: "I just HAD to tell somebody!!!"
Me: "What????"
Mom: " I just saw the most handsome, good looking piece of male flesh I've seen in about 20 years!!!"
Me: "What? MOM!!!!"
Mom: *laughing* "Oh YES. I was out riding my bike and this construction worker! GOODNESS! I haven't seen anyone that handsome, oh my!"
Me: *stunned laughter* "mom!"
Mom : *continuing to laugh* "He had to be about 6'5", what a great body!! and his EYES!!! OH! I didn't think they made them that way anymore!!!!"
Me: "REALLY?!?!!? Mom!!!"
Mom: "Made my WHOLE DAY. EMMMMHMMMM, SO HANDSOME!!!"
Me: "Maybe I need to come bike riding with you soon............"
Mom: *laughing* "I knew YOU'D APPRECIATE it DH."

She's 70.
The epitome of "I'll quit lookin when I'd dead."

A Loving E-mail Exchange

I often send F an e-mail list of things that need to be done, reminded, picked up etc, while I'm at work so I don't forgot to tell him.  Here is the exchange after the most recent e-mail To-Do list:

From Me:
A few things.


1) that $20 ends tomorrow(kohl's money coupon), so you should probably go tonight and get them(shoes, he is like a woman when it comes to shoes). I won't be able to go with you since I have to......

2) cut the grass(hasn't been done in 2 weeks and it is about ready to re-seed itself)....and

3) make my dish for our potluck tomorrow which will require me to....

4) go grocery shopping, i might be able to do this at lunch.

5) You need to go to "the bank" and get a VISA card for L&T.(who are getting married this month which means a trip BACK EAST VERY SOON.) 
 
F's response:
wow that is some list... (please make special note of this sentence from him)


1. ok

2. ok

3. potluck??? leave some at home for lunch please

4. ok

5. I wanted to give them a check for money and not a visa card...

6. please grab a mother's day card for me tonight...(um? seriously?? after your OPENING LINE????)

Me:
1)good


2)good

3)no because you always complain that it's "too something"(my highly requested mac & cheese was "TOO CHEESY" which ended the setting aside of) and hence I said I would no longer set any aside for you.

4)good

5)fine

6)dude, seriously, get your own mother's day card. it means nothing if you can't even pick it out yourself. (mind you, until he got together with me, he never sent cards, FOR ANYTHING. Didn't even know when her birthday was, true story.)

F:
3. I said please


6. FINE...

Me:
3)fine, I don't want to hear any complaints.


6)Good, like I didn't have enough to do already. the card department is right by the shoes in Kohl's anyway. jeez.


AAAAAAAAnnnnnnnnnnnnnd...........END

Desensitized??

We've been back here in the Mid-West since 12/30/2009. I haven't written because: A) I've been busy with work, and B) I really have nothing to tell.


As per usual, I came back sick. Am still sick in fact, and so is F. I got sick 2 days before we left; he got sick the morning we left.
Upon my arrival back in the office I heard this statement the most: "SO! You survived!!!" I think maybe I need to stop talking about the Out-Laws at the office.

FIL's most outstanding comment this trip: "You've made it very clear you don't want me eating with you." He yelled this from the other room while MIL, F, and I were in the kitchen chatting after dinner. The entire event went something like this: On my way into the kitchen for dinner I told FIL dinner was ready, he made no sound or movement to let me know he heard me, normal, F does it to me all the time (maybe he didn't hear me, who knows.).
MIL, F and I have a great meal and no one mentions the empty place setting. About 20mins after we finished FIL yells from the other room: "Do you think you could finish so the rest of us can eat????!!!" Mind you, it was only the four of us in the house. The 3 of us look at each other stunned and I yell back, "There's a place here at the table waiting for you."
And that's when he said, "You've made it very clear you don't want me eating with you."
Um, ok. Whatever. I could say the same thing to you.

Other than that, the trip, once again, CALM. No yelling. No fighting. It is the opinion of my friends and co-workers that now that we are married they've come to accept it, and have stopped trying to fight it, or stop it or whatever. I'm still leery. I can't help it. Once bitten, twice shy.


I went shopping with MIL, and I almost had to kill her. See, one of the cousins back in The Homeland is getting married, and since its MIL side of the family, after 20+ yrs, she is going back for a visit and is completely freaked out about it. She is going without FIL. So the traveling, understandably, has her nervous. It is because I understand the situation that I did not in fact do away with her. F went to spend time with M while this shopping trip occurred. MIL feels she needs to buy a gift for all the women folk back in The Homeland. For whatever reason, she assumed, or thought, or hoped, that I, after a year, would remember AND KNOW what sizes all these women wear. Now. Think about that. I spent time with these women, yes. But never was I sizing them up! Taking measurements! And it has been a FULL YEAR since we've been there. Most women will tell you that their weight changes throughout the year. How can I even? I mean. COME ON!!!! For several hours MIL would hold up a shirt or a blouse and ask me if I thought so-and-so would wear this? Did I think this was so-and-so's style? What did they wear when I was with them? (skirts and sweaters, fyi) Over and over and over again we would have this conversation.

My answers: "I guess."

"I don't know."

"Maybe."

"Honestly, I REALLY DO. NOT. KNOW."

When I'd finally had it, I hide out in the dressing room at Dress Barn and texted F: "OMG.I do not know what flipping size anyone wears! That is all."

F: "Are you ok?"

Me: "Yes."

F: "Is she driving you crazy?"

Me: "Yes."

F: "Are you almost done?"

Me: "I think so."

As this is going on I hear MIL; "DH? DH? Where are you????"

Me: "I'm in the dressing room."

MIL: "OH. I thought you ran away."

OMG. I felt like a jerk. Clearly my poker face was not holding up. In my defense, I hadn't eaten all day and had a raging sinus headache that preceded the cold I cannot seem to get rid of. Still. I know. Bad DIL.

Dress Barn completed we headed home for dinner. I have a feeling she will end up returning many of the items she bought. F was very happy that I went shopping with her, "She's always wanted a daughter to go shopping with.” Apparently SIL just doesn't cut it.

And so ends the trip back East.


I leave you with this:

                                              What MIL orginally got me for Christmas.

                                                         That's right FLOWERS. I'm 35.
(You can pick this kicky little number up at Old Navy in case  you were wondering. As Sailor Mouth said when I sent her the pic:"No wonder they are downsizing.")


                                       What we exchanged it for, my choice, from Macy's:

                                             I got SEVERAL compliments on this when I wore it to work.

F got me a digital camera for Christmas, so hopefully my pictures will take a much improved up swing once I start using it.

Shoulders Back, Chest Out

I was talking to my mother the other night on the phone. She likes to update me on all things that go on in her little snowbird community. I was listening half heartedly when she started ranting about t-shirts. She and her "Gentleman friend" (because "DH, he's NOT a BOY!!"), were at some function where they were selling t-shirts. I'd say it's safe to assume the event t-shirts, like many event t-shirt, were unisex. This in no way was acceptable to my almost 70 yr old mother. She apparently expressed her displeasure to the poor woman volunteer who was manning the shirt sales.


My Mom: "Why don't you sell V-neck shirts for the women?"

Woman Volunteer: "I don't know."

My Mom: "Well you should! Most women (she means her age) don’t like things up around their necks."

Woman Volunteer: "Oh? Is that so?"

My Mom: "YES! Plus women look better in V-necks! It shows off your chest better. I bet you'd sell more if they were V-necks."

Woman Volunteer: "That could be."

Not at all satisfied that she'd convinced the woman, my mom left. She went on to tell me that it was the stupid men who probably ordered the shirts in the first place and hence the total lack of a V-neck choice.

She also told me she'd be shopping for a V-neck sweater/sweatshirt while home. (she came home for the holidays.) Because "Your chest just LOOKS better in a V-neck DH, you know this."

Yes mom, yes I do.

No Thanks, Thanksgiving

Has anybody else seen this? It is from AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com.  First, with all these dishes that everyone else is bringing, what the hell is this woman making? And second, if I were these people I'd put all my required dishes in Tupperware and dare her to say something. I would LOVE to see a follow up on how this dinner went down. Oh to be a fly on all the many walls involved in this!!!!


The Thanksgiving Letter (back by popular demand)



November 26th, 2009

From: Marney

As you all know a fabulous Thanksgiving Dinner does not make itself. I need to ask each of you to help by bringing something to complete the meal. I truly appreciate your offers to assist with the meal preparation.

Now, while I do have quite a sense of humor and joke around all the time, I COULD NOT BE MORE SERIOUS when I am providing you with your Thanksgiving instructions and orders(who does this woman think she is???). I am very particular, so please perform your task EXACTLY as I have requested and read your portion very carefully. If I ask you to bring your offering in a container that has a lid, bring your offering in a container WITH A LID, NOT ALUMINUM FOIL!(why the foil hate?) If I ask you to bring a serving spoon for your dish, BRING A SERVING SPOON, NOT A SOUP SPOON! (seriously? If they both scoop, what difference does it make? even for an OCDer such as myself this is a bit much)And please do not forget anything.


All food that is to be cooked should already be prepared, bring it hot and ready to serve, warm or room temp. (so, um, you expect to eat the minute people hit the door? i mean how are you going to keep everything HOT??)These are your ONLY THREE options. Anything meant to be served cold should, of course, already be cold.



HJB—Dinner wine (why is this person getting off so easy?)

The Mike Byron Family


1. Turnips in a casserole with a lid and a serving spoon. Please do not fill the casserole all the way up to the top, it gets too messy. I know this may come as a bit of a surprise to you, but most of us hate turnips so don’t feel like you a have to feed an army.(um so why have them?)


2. Two half gallons of ice cream, one must be VANILLA, I don’t care what the other one is. No store brands please. (what??????? dude.)I did see an ad this morning for Hagan Daz Peppermint Bark Ice Cream, yum!! (no pressure here, though).


3. Toppings for the ice cream.


4. A case of bottled water, NOT gallons, any brand is ok.(um, why do you care? water is water. they take home the leftovers.)



The Bob Byron Family


1. Green beans or asparagus (not both) in a casserole with a lid and a serving spoon. If you are making the green beans, please prepare FOUR pounds, if you are making asparagus please prepare FIVE pounds. It is up to you how you wish to prepare them, no soupy sauces, no cheese(didn't she just say it was up to BBF on how to make them?) (you know how Mike is), a light sprinkling of toasted nuts, or pancetta, or some EVOO would be a nice way to jazz them up.


2. A case of beer of your choice (I have Coors Light and Corona) or a bottle of clos du bois chardonnay (you will have to let me know which you will bring prior to 11/22). (again,why does it matter?)



The Lisa Byron Chesterford Family


1. Lisa as a married woman you are now required to contribute at the adult level.(wow, sounds like someone is bitter about lisa not carrying her fair share in th past.) You can bring an hors d’ouvres. A few helpful hints/suggestions. Keep it very light, and non-filling, NO COCKTAIL SAUCE, no beans of any kind. I think your best bet would be a platter of fresh veggies and dip. Not a huge platter mind you (i.e., not the plastic platter from the supermarket).(they do make small ones ya know)


The Michelle Bobble Family


1. Stuffing in a casserole with a serving spoon. Please make the stuffing sans meat.


2. 2.5-3 qts. of mashed squash in a casserole with a lid and serving spoon


3. Proscuitto pin wheel – please stick to the recipe, no need to bring a plate.


4. A pie knife(why is the person who is not bringing a pie, bringing the pie knife???)



The June Davis Family


1. 15 LBS of mashed potatoes in a casserole with a serving spoon. Please do not use the over-size blue serving dish you used last year. Because you are making such a large batch you can do one of two things: put half the mash in a regulation size (which would be what exactly?)casserole with lid and put the other half in a plastic container (this breaks the no plastic rule!!)and we can just replenish with that or use two regulation size casserole dishes with lids. Only one serving spoon is needed.


2. A bottle of clos du bois chardonnay


The Amy Misto Family (why do I even bother she will never read this)


1. A pumpkin pie in a pie dish (please use my silver palate recipe)(how do you know everyone likes that recipe???) no knife needed.


2. An apple pie in a pie dish, you can use your own recipe, no knife needed.


Looking forward to the 28th!!

Marney






(kindly submitted by Kara at http://californiakara.blogspot.com)

Over the Weekend.....

I washed my hair 4x in less than a 24hr period. Not the best water saving mission, but that is how things played out this weekend.


My chin exploded in zits like I was 15 again. Despite the massive amounts of EXTREMELY expensive anti-acne cremes, salves, washes and over-night products, the mountain zit in the middle of my chin continues to grow. It is extremely embarrassing to have to be at work and have said zit pulsate at my co-workers while we chat. I feel greasy and nasty and wish to wear a bag over my head until the volcano blows and begins to shrink.


I spent a good $80 on splints and support wraps because at 35 and 2 months my manky ankle refuses to be anything but trouble and has convinced my knee that they should work against me in tandem. They sent a telegram to both my hips who won't allow me to sleep on either of them, the muscle group in my upper buttock who have formed a fist sized knot that shoots pain back down my thigh (ha ha knee! backfire!), the RIGHT side of my neck which refuses to play nice with the pillow and my entire back muscle coalition.

F informed me that if I want to go somewhere for our 1 YEAR anniversary that I need to start looking now, and it must have a fireplace to keep us warm. This little task was given to me after he questioned me, "Do I REALLY have to get you something?" and "You mean you REALLY want that cookbook from Pioneer Woman?? Can I buy it in the store, or only from Amazon??"
Apparently giving him the link on Amazon was still too involved for him and I might as well go out and buy it myself and give myself a really romantic card while I'm at it.

My mom got off on her Alaskan cruise just fine, but no one has heard from her since. We are all just assuming that she doesn't have cell service on the water and is too cheap to pay for Internet time on the boat to let us all know she is still afloat. (see what i did there??)

Fort Knox: The Library of a Teenager

My 14yr old niece is heavily into the Twilight Series. Big shocker right? SES borrowed the books from her and having read them, told me how great they were and that I needed to read them too. Since I love to read, when the mood strikes, I figured what the heck? Maybe it would be a little Anne Rice lite kind of reading.
When I saw my niece recently I poised my query, “Hey, K, can I borrow your Twilight books?”
K without missing a beat: “I don’t lend those out anymore ever since my friend Nicole never gave me the one she borrowed back.”
Completely. Dead. Serious.
ES and I both gasped.
ES: “What? You won’t let your own AUNT borrow your books?”
Me: “Really! Geez.”
K: “Yes. Really.”
ES and I both laughed, “WOW.”
ES: “Dang, your Aunt is like 25 yrs older than your friend! And far more responsible! I can’t believe you said no!!”
Me: “No kidding.”
K: “I might reconsider.”

What the? Cold man. She was cold. And hardcore.
But I was also kind of proud of her. She stuck up for what is hers, and wasn’t going to be bullied.

K: “Ok, you can borrow them. But you better NOT WRECK THEM!!!”

Ok, so maybe it was more the guilt rather than bullying.

Me: “Thank you! I know how to treat books; I grew up in a library after all!”

I left their house without the books.

Or maybe, she just knows how to play the game.