By 11 O'clock this morning the Man Child had:
*disrobed himself
*dumped sugar all over the kitchen floor
*ripped a Berenstein Bears books to shreds and threw the pieces off the 3rd floor walkway onto the living room floor below
*rubbed gum into the carpet in my bedroom
*dumped out every book and toy in his room
By 11:05 I was ready to ship him off to the jungle.
But 5 minutes ago he fell asleep while watching "Cyber Chase" on my bed.
I love to watch him sleep. Only then is the Man Child is still long enough that I can see the shadow of the tiny baby Heavenly Father blessed me with almost 3 years ago. He was beautiful and perfect and sweet. That baby boy is still there; it's just now he's encased in a 40 pound- future linebacker & mass of pure willpower and stubbornness- package.
I have a 100 things I should be doing right now as I have an unexpected free afternoon, but instead I think I'll sit here and watch him a while longer.
What a beautiful boy.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
To Kick The King Or Not- That Is The Question....
It's well past midnight and I can't sleep. But this time the insomnia is not caffeine induced.
For the third night in a row, The King has fallen asleep on MY side of the bed.
Is it considered spousal abuse if I kick him while he's unconscious? I can almost guarantee that he won't wake up and even if he did, he won't remember it in the morning.
No permanent damage, and I'd feel lots better.
Every so often, The King pulls his patented "now which side of the bed do I sleep on?" Alzheimer's routine. At 35 he can't possibly be that forgetful! Sure, he has trouble remembering if his toothbrush is the blue one or the orange, but if he messes up and uses mine I can just throw it away and get a new one.
I don't want to throw away my King. He's still got a lot of good use left in him, and frankly just the thought of training a new model makes me determined to (a) never, ever get divorced and (b) swear to become a nun should I ever have the misfortune of becoming a widow. No Captain Von Trap will ever ensnare me with his schnitzel and noodles and 7 precocious but vocally gifted children.
I just don't understand why he has to "test out the other side" every so often. Is it that my side is softer? Does it look more inviting from afar? The biggest irony is that The King announced right after the honeymoon that he could not sleep on the side of the bed that is closest to the door (it had something to do with his fear that the first person to get attacked in a home invasion is the first one seen- hence if he sleeps one the other side I'm the first to get murdered. Chivalry isn't dead my friends). So for the last 13+ years, through several apartments and 2 homes, no matter how our bedroom was oriented I have served as bedroom door watch guard and semi-willing martyr to any bloodthirsty robber. I have become so accustomed to "my" duty that when The King is out of town on business I remain faithful to my post- I don't move even an inch onto his side of the bed!
Apparently being "The King" comes with certain privileges, just one being the right to kick me off my side at any time and without notice. The change usually only lasts a few days, but it's always just long enough to get my sleeping schedule completely out of whack so that it takes a week to recover. I've wondered over and over what catalyst ignites this pattern of behavior, and I think he simply gets lulled into a false sense of security and forgets to obsess on the perilous "what ifs" of living in middle class suburbia. Is it a merely coincidence that he hasn't methodically (okay compulsively) checked and rechecked all the doors and locks in the house for the same three days I ask you??
I think not.
I think I have no option but to get low and dirty. Maybe I heard a scratching on the patio door late at night. Was that a shadowy figure walking across the front lawn? Perhaps there's a rumor around the neighborhood that cars are being broken in to.
Could I possibly be so cruel?
Yes, I could. I'm tired. Get off my freaking side of the bed. I'm going to unlock every door in house right now. Sleep on that baby cakes.
For the third night in a row, The King has fallen asleep on MY side of the bed.
Is it considered spousal abuse if I kick him while he's unconscious? I can almost guarantee that he won't wake up and even if he did, he won't remember it in the morning.
No permanent damage, and I'd feel lots better.
Every so often, The King pulls his patented "now which side of the bed do I sleep on?" Alzheimer's routine. At 35 he can't possibly be that forgetful! Sure, he has trouble remembering if his toothbrush is the blue one or the orange, but if he messes up and uses mine I can just throw it away and get a new one.
I don't want to throw away my King. He's still got a lot of good use left in him, and frankly just the thought of training a new model makes me determined to (a) never, ever get divorced and (b) swear to become a nun should I ever have the misfortune of becoming a widow. No Captain Von Trap will ever ensnare me with his schnitzel and noodles and 7 precocious but vocally gifted children.
I just don't understand why he has to "test out the other side" every so often. Is it that my side is softer? Does it look more inviting from afar? The biggest irony is that The King announced right after the honeymoon that he could not sleep on the side of the bed that is closest to the door (it had something to do with his fear that the first person to get attacked in a home invasion is the first one seen- hence if he sleeps one the other side I'm the first to get murdered. Chivalry isn't dead my friends). So for the last 13+ years, through several apartments and 2 homes, no matter how our bedroom was oriented I have served as bedroom door watch guard and semi-willing martyr to any bloodthirsty robber. I have become so accustomed to "my" duty that when The King is out of town on business I remain faithful to my post- I don't move even an inch onto his side of the bed!
Apparently being "The King" comes with certain privileges, just one being the right to kick me off my side at any time and without notice. The change usually only lasts a few days, but it's always just long enough to get my sleeping schedule completely out of whack so that it takes a week to recover. I've wondered over and over what catalyst ignites this pattern of behavior, and I think he simply gets lulled into a false sense of security and forgets to obsess on the perilous "what ifs" of living in middle class suburbia. Is it a merely coincidence that he hasn't methodically (okay compulsively) checked and rechecked all the doors and locks in the house for the same three days I ask you??
I think not.
I think I have no option but to get low and dirty. Maybe I heard a scratching on the patio door late at night. Was that a shadowy figure walking across the front lawn? Perhaps there's a rumor around the neighborhood that cars are being broken in to.
Could I possibly be so cruel?
Yes, I could. I'm tired. Get off my freaking side of the bed. I'm going to unlock every door in house right now. Sleep on that baby cakes.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Are You A Player??
Not that kind of player, sickos. I know what you were thinking.
I mean have you joined the "Your Team" craze? If you haven't: (1) shame on you and (2) please get out a little more and finally (3) I'm not going to go into detail here but if you want to crawl out of the hole you've been in and start playing you can leave a comment and I'll explain the intricacies of the game there.
For now, just pretend you're following me.
As any seasoned player knows, Walmart provides a 24/7 veritable feast of potential "members". Upon returning from Cali and lamenting the lack of plentiful game material in Utah that we witnessed in the land of Mickey Mouse, my sista Fancy took to the Internet and found a new upstart site-wwww.peopleofwalmart.com- which might be the single greatest dot com invention since Ebay. I don't know if the creators are Teamers, but if they aren't they were undoubtedly inspired by the patron saints of mockery to provide the world with such inspiring art and ample proof that Walmart is actually a 4th dimension or porthole to another world.
Geniuses at wwww.peopleofwalmart.com, we salute you!
I mean have you joined the "Your Team" craze? If you haven't: (1) shame on you and (2) please get out a little more and finally (3) I'm not going to go into detail here but if you want to crawl out of the hole you've been in and start playing you can leave a comment and I'll explain the intricacies of the game there.
For now, just pretend you're following me.
As any seasoned player knows, Walmart provides a 24/7 veritable feast of potential "members". Upon returning from Cali and lamenting the lack of plentiful game material in Utah that we witnessed in the land of Mickey Mouse, my sista Fancy took to the Internet and found a new upstart site-wwww.peopleofwalmart.com- which might be the single greatest dot com invention since Ebay. I don't know if the creators are Teamers, but if they aren't they were undoubtedly inspired by the patron saints of mockery to provide the world with such inspiring art and ample proof that Walmart is actually a 4th dimension or porthole to another world.
Geniuses at wwww.peopleofwalmart.com, we salute you!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Update!!!
She made it!
Not a single tear was shed.
However, she did say not 20 seconds after the needle left her skin that she felt the flu coming on. And it traveled to her leg rather quickly.
There's a reason her name is Tween Drama Queen.
Not a single tear was shed.
However, she did say not 20 seconds after the needle left her skin that she felt the flu coming on. And it traveled to her leg rather quickly.
There's a reason her name is Tween Drama Queen.
Parent Payback Time
Ah, government enforced torture for children. And I'm just an innocent bystander in the affair.
Today the TQ has to get her 7th grade immunizations. I am a huge supporter of immunizations, and the fact that so many horrific diseases of the past have been virtually eradicated by them. When my kids were babies and toddlers it always broke my heart a little to watch them cry as the needle pierced their skin, but I have to say there is not a lot of sympathy in my heart for my 12 year old daughter. As it told her, it only gets worse from here. See how lovely you feel after your first gyno wellness check and you'll think the tiny pin prick of a tetanus shot was a walk in the park. I haven't even fully gone into detail about the joys of childbirth in fear that she will vow to never give me grandchildren.
Rule #1 of life sweetie: there's always something worse out there than what you are experiencing now.
I do feel a twinge of pity for her because she's made herself so nervous thinking about it that she's sick, AND she has to head over to the jr. high right after because all the sbo's are helping with back to school night. I haven't warned her that she'll probably feel a little achy and yucky, but I think I'll wait until after the deed is done, then she can't run away.
Oops, cat's out of the bag. I probably should have saved typing that last tidbit until she was done reading over my shoulder.
You'll live kiddo. When you are 10 cm dilated and ready to rip your husband's throat out for getting you preggers in the first place, this experience will be but a brief and painless memory.
Now get in the truck.........
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
I'm Baaaccccckkkkk!!!!
Where did August go?
Oh right! Disney land and then Girl's Camp. 10 total days of female bonding.
It was AWESOME!!!
Cali with my sis was The Best. If I didn't already heart her forever and ever and fully intend to spend our twilight years together gossiping on the front porch of our rebuilt Victorian home and swearing at the tv, I would for sure after this trip.
I think we both learned just how easily we can entertain ourselves. We'll be in high demand if there's ever an atomic bomb dropped and everyone has to hide out in a bunker for a year until the radiation levels drop.
Of course, Disneyland did offer a bounty of candidates for the greatest game ever created- "Your Team". (Best "Your Team" spots- the 60 year old "daddy" with his 20 something trophy wife and toddlers in tow, and the 400+ pound woman with tattoos visible on every surface of her body but those hidden by a teeny tiny bikini top. You are very welcome for the visual). And we did try to find the most obscure and random sites for photo ops (I'm pretty sure on at least one occasion we might have had the Mickey Mouse security tailing us for trying to take pictures in front of the bathroom door). We bonded with random shuttle bus drivers, ate enormous corn dogs that were worth every cent of the $8 they cost, and got so motion sick I had to lay down on a bench in the middle of Tomorrow Land.
It was excellent!
As soon as Fancy gets me the pix I'll post them. I'm out of time now, but I'll try to get back to the computer later to cover Girls Camp. It's back to "real" life- meaning laundry, dishes, YW, back-to-school, etc.......aka CRAZINESS!
*Post note*
I think The Man Child just said the S word. I'm not sure, because it could also have been "sit", but something tells me it wasn't. I gave up swearing over a year ago, so I'm not sure who/what to blame for his sudden potty mouth, but I guess I'll just ignore it and see if he repeats it (hopefully not in the middle of church. Oh please, not at church!!!)
Oh right! Disney land and then Girl's Camp. 10 total days of female bonding.
It was AWESOME!!!
Cali with my sis was The Best. If I didn't already heart her forever and ever and fully intend to spend our twilight years together gossiping on the front porch of our rebuilt Victorian home and swearing at the tv, I would for sure after this trip.
I think we both learned just how easily we can entertain ourselves. We'll be in high demand if there's ever an atomic bomb dropped and everyone has to hide out in a bunker for a year until the radiation levels drop.
Of course, Disneyland did offer a bounty of candidates for the greatest game ever created- "Your Team". (Best "Your Team" spots- the 60 year old "daddy" with his 20 something trophy wife and toddlers in tow, and the 400+ pound woman with tattoos visible on every surface of her body but those hidden by a teeny tiny bikini top. You are very welcome for the visual). And we did try to find the most obscure and random sites for photo ops (I'm pretty sure on at least one occasion we might have had the Mickey Mouse security tailing us for trying to take pictures in front of the bathroom door). We bonded with random shuttle bus drivers, ate enormous corn dogs that were worth every cent of the $8 they cost, and got so motion sick I had to lay down on a bench in the middle of Tomorrow Land.
It was excellent!
As soon as Fancy gets me the pix I'll post them. I'm out of time now, but I'll try to get back to the computer later to cover Girls Camp. It's back to "real" life- meaning laundry, dishes, YW, back-to-school, etc.......aka CRAZINESS!
*Post note*
I think The Man Child just said the S word. I'm not sure, because it could also have been "sit", but something tells me it wasn't. I gave up swearing over a year ago, so I'm not sure who/what to blame for his sudden potty mouth, but I guess I'll just ignore it and see if he repeats it (hopefully not in the middle of church. Oh please, not at church!!!)
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