I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.
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**This is sort of a NYC themed Hey, It’s Okay Tuesday since I was just there last week**
To not care that Kim Kardashian is engaged.
To have thought the store Dash (I went to the one in Soho) was ridiculous. I mean, $700 for a dress? No. I did like a funny t-shirt but the price tag was $60. Again. No.
To have thought it was funny that New Yorkers really do honk as much as it shows in TV and movies.
To loved being able to see where SNL is filmed. No, we couldn’t touch the set. Boo. And it’s nearly impossible to get tickets to SNL.
To have not watched Oprah’s final episode.
To think it’s cool that I’ve been to a lot of places where TV shows and movies are filmed in NYC. Now when I watch The Today Show I can be like, “I stood there.” And while watching Blue Bloods I can be like, “I walked around there.”
To have thought Bridesmaids was hilarious! Go see it, you’ll laugh, unless you are an uptight prude.
To have also thought that the cost of seeing a movie in NYC was ridiculous. $27 for two tickets. Ack! In Wyoming it’s only $16.
To be curious on what Arnold Schwartzengger’s love child looks like though I do hope he’s left alone. Poor kid.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Bear In My Bed
A bear was in my bed.
What else could make that grumbling noise?
A bear was in my freaking bed. I lifted my pillow, prepared to smack the bear away. Not that a pillow could do much. Still. I had to do SOMETHING…I had to….
And then I remembered.
It wasn’t a bear.
No.
It was my husband. Tom. Asleep beside me. Making a bear noise.
Snoring, some might call it.
But when a person is suddenly awakened from a deep sleep, they might think it was a bear.
Beside them.
Or maybe it’s just me.
I stared up at the ceiling and smiled. I didn’t even mind being woken up. Tom was home! After nine months of being away in Korea, he was back. In my bed. Snoring.
True, I’d probably only find this endearing the first few days. And then I’d want to smother him with the pillow. But I needed to focus on the good.
Tom made it home.
My Mom, who had been visiting, drove us all to the airport. I was nervous the entire drive down. I clasped my hands in my lap. I chewed my lower lip. I ran my fingers through my unruly hair. I had wanted to wear a dress, but the Wyoming weather wasn’t cooperating. I figured greeting Tom while shaking from a chill plus goosebumps all up my arms wouldn’t be attractive. So I had on jeans with a nice black top.
Mom took a picture of me and the kids before we left:
I so wish I could apply my makeup better. I wish I could afford a makeup artist. Or at least have a friend who knows what she is doing. Or he. Some men apply makeup very well.
I started to lift my fingernail to my mouth to chew it. It’s a horrible habit, I know. Then I realized that my Mom would probably smack it away or give me a Look. I didn’t want to pick my skin around my nails because ew, what a way to greet Tom. Hi sweets, I haven’t seen you in nine months, please excuse my diseased looking hands.
What if…oh God, what if bats flew out of….well, down there? I haven’t engaged in any kind of activity for nine months. What if it closed up since it hasn’t been used? What if Tom expected me to do something fancy like bend a certain way? Maybe he’s forgotten that I don’t bend. And that I’m clumsy and tend to smack into things when I attempt to be sexy.
Or get the giggles, which I hate, but I can’t help it.
When we arrived at the airport, I took a couple deep breaths. It would be okay. We settled down at the arrivals section and waited…
…and waited…
…and waited…
Tom’s plane was delayed. I kept my eyes glued on the people filtering out and didn’t see him.
What did he look like again?
Oh right. Bald.
Probably with a funny t-shirt on.
Mom checked the screen to see if Tom’s plane landed. It kept saying 11:10 and nothing more.
It was 11:20.
“Where’s my Daddy?” Natalie asked. She had on a pink princess dress complete with sparkly pink shoes.
“He’s coming,” I vowed.
Where was he?
“Amber,” I heard Mom say.
What if the plane didn’t come until after midnight? Or never? What if he—
“Amber,” Mom repeated.
Oh my God, what if the plane crashed? It was coming from Los Angeles, what if a starlet lost her mind, charged the cockpit and started screaming? I could so see Lindsay Lohan pulling that stunt. Or a Real Housewife pissed off that she had been filmed from her left side and not her right, which is much more flattering…
“Amber, look.”
I glanced over and spotted a familiar man across the room.
It…could it be…
I need a new glasses prescription, I think, because it took me a few seconds to register that yes, it was Tom.
I always picture reunions like the ones in movies….you know, a couple running towards each other? With Tom throwing his luggage passionately on the ground so he can scoop me into his arms and twirl me around?
Only, he couldn’t do that, because he was holding his laptop case and if he threw it down, it would break.
So instead I approached him and he gave me an awkward hug and a kiss, while the kids ran over.
“Daddy!” Natalie said happily. “My Daddy!’
Seriously, she kept whispering, “Daddy...daddy...” as though she couldn’t believe he was really home.
“Hi Dad,” Tommy said, playing it cool.
On the drive home Tom told us about his flight. He loved the one from Korea to Los Angeles. Apparently he got slippers. And the food was amazing.
He said LAX frightened him. “There were so many stick thin fake women walking around. I wanted to stuff a burger in their mouths.”
It’s been fantastic having him home. He’s been helping a lot which is a good thing because the movers come to pick up our stuff on the 14th. Have I mentioned we have a lot of stuff?
Natalie doesn’t like Tom to be out of her sight. If he walks off she’s like, “Is my Daddy coming back?”
I know she loves me.
But she is definitely a Daddy’s Girl.
What else could make that grumbling noise?
A bear was in my freaking bed. I lifted my pillow, prepared to smack the bear away. Not that a pillow could do much. Still. I had to do SOMETHING…I had to….
And then I remembered.
It wasn’t a bear.
No.
It was my husband. Tom. Asleep beside me. Making a bear noise.
Snoring, some might call it.
But when a person is suddenly awakened from a deep sleep, they might think it was a bear.
Beside them.
Or maybe it’s just me.
I stared up at the ceiling and smiled. I didn’t even mind being woken up. Tom was home! After nine months of being away in Korea, he was back. In my bed. Snoring.
True, I’d probably only find this endearing the first few days. And then I’d want to smother him with the pillow. But I needed to focus on the good.
Tom made it home.
My Mom, who had been visiting, drove us all to the airport. I was nervous the entire drive down. I clasped my hands in my lap. I chewed my lower lip. I ran my fingers through my unruly hair. I had wanted to wear a dress, but the Wyoming weather wasn’t cooperating. I figured greeting Tom while shaking from a chill plus goosebumps all up my arms wouldn’t be attractive. So I had on jeans with a nice black top.
Mom took a picture of me and the kids before we left:
I so wish I could apply my makeup better. I wish I could afford a makeup artist. Or at least have a friend who knows what she is doing. Or he. Some men apply makeup very well.
I started to lift my fingernail to my mouth to chew it. It’s a horrible habit, I know. Then I realized that my Mom would probably smack it away or give me a Look. I didn’t want to pick my skin around my nails because ew, what a way to greet Tom. Hi sweets, I haven’t seen you in nine months, please excuse my diseased looking hands.
What if…oh God, what if bats flew out of….well, down there? I haven’t engaged in any kind of activity for nine months. What if it closed up since it hasn’t been used? What if Tom expected me to do something fancy like bend a certain way? Maybe he’s forgotten that I don’t bend. And that I’m clumsy and tend to smack into things when I attempt to be sexy.
Or get the giggles, which I hate, but I can’t help it.
When we arrived at the airport, I took a couple deep breaths. It would be okay. We settled down at the arrivals section and waited…
…and waited…
…and waited…
Tom’s plane was delayed. I kept my eyes glued on the people filtering out and didn’t see him.
What did he look like again?
Oh right. Bald.
Probably with a funny t-shirt on.
Mom checked the screen to see if Tom’s plane landed. It kept saying 11:10 and nothing more.
It was 11:20.
“Where’s my Daddy?” Natalie asked. She had on a pink princess dress complete with sparkly pink shoes.
“He’s coming,” I vowed.
Where was he?
“Amber,” I heard Mom say.
What if the plane didn’t come until after midnight? Or never? What if he—
“Amber,” Mom repeated.
Oh my God, what if the plane crashed? It was coming from Los Angeles, what if a starlet lost her mind, charged the cockpit and started screaming? I could so see Lindsay Lohan pulling that stunt. Or a Real Housewife pissed off that she had been filmed from her left side and not her right, which is much more flattering…
“Amber, look.”
I glanced over and spotted a familiar man across the room.
It…could it be…
I need a new glasses prescription, I think, because it took me a few seconds to register that yes, it was Tom.
I always picture reunions like the ones in movies….you know, a couple running towards each other? With Tom throwing his luggage passionately on the ground so he can scoop me into his arms and twirl me around?
Only, he couldn’t do that, because he was holding his laptop case and if he threw it down, it would break.
So instead I approached him and he gave me an awkward hug and a kiss, while the kids ran over.
“Daddy!” Natalie said happily. “My Daddy!’
Seriously, she kept whispering, “Daddy...daddy...” as though she couldn’t believe he was really home.
“Hi Dad,” Tommy said, playing it cool.
On the drive home Tom told us about his flight. He loved the one from Korea to Los Angeles. Apparently he got slippers. And the food was amazing.
He said LAX frightened him. “There were so many stick thin fake women walking around. I wanted to stuff a burger in their mouths.”
It’s been fantastic having him home. He’s been helping a lot which is a good thing because the movers come to pick up our stuff on the 14th. Have I mentioned we have a lot of stuff?
Natalie doesn’t like Tom to be out of her sight. If he walks off she’s like, “Is my Daddy coming back?”
I know she loves me.
But she is definitely a Daddy’s Girl.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tom Is Home...Almost
You know how hosts of those game shows are all dramatic when they announce the winner?
Like Phil from The Amazing Race goes, “7 continents, 10 countries, 6 states…YOU are the official winner of The Amazing Race.”
I sort of picture him saying something like that about my reunion with Tom tonight. I can picture him standing there saying, “9 months. 270 days. 6570 hours. 23,000 seconds. These two have experienced heartbreak, frustrations, and have probably forgotten what sex even is. But tonight. Tonight, folks, these two will be reunited.”
Yes.
It’s true. Tonight I will see Tom again. His flight comes in around 10.
I’m a little nervous.
I mean, I’ve seen him on Skype. But that’s not totally the same.
I can actually touch him.
Push him over, even. I’ve done this, when he’s threatened to eat all my chocolate. Actually, he barely moves when I push him. He’s much stronger than I am. I sort of shove against his shoulder and he stands there looking at me like, “Really?”
If the weather improves, I plan on wearing a dress. No panties. I’m kidding. Panties. My mother is here. My children are here. I can’t go commando without feeling naked.
Crap. I just realized I better put a towel on his towel holder. It’s been empty for so long.
But yeah.
Tonight?
Tom will be home.
Like Phil from The Amazing Race goes, “7 continents, 10 countries, 6 states…YOU are the official winner of The Amazing Race.”
I sort of picture him saying something like that about my reunion with Tom tonight. I can picture him standing there saying, “9 months. 270 days. 6570 hours. 23,000 seconds. These two have experienced heartbreak, frustrations, and have probably forgotten what sex even is. But tonight. Tonight, folks, these two will be reunited.”
Yes.
It’s true. Tonight I will see Tom again. His flight comes in around 10.
I’m a little nervous.
I mean, I’ve seen him on Skype. But that’s not totally the same.
I can actually touch him.
Push him over, even. I’ve done this, when he’s threatened to eat all my chocolate. Actually, he barely moves when I push him. He’s much stronger than I am. I sort of shove against his shoulder and he stands there looking at me like, “Really?”
If the weather improves, I plan on wearing a dress. No panties. I’m kidding. Panties. My mother is here. My children are here. I can’t go commando without feeling naked.
Crap. I just realized I better put a towel on his towel holder. It’s been empty for so long.
But yeah.
Tonight?
Tom will be home.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
I Have Returned
I've fallen in love.
With New York City.
It was FABULOUS.
I'm home now and I promise to tell all about my adventures next week.
Tomorrow, however, I'll be writing about something else.
Or rather, SOMEONE else.
Because guess what?
Tom comes home tomorrow!
We're moving to Oklahoma. Our final day in Wyoming is June 14th.
Yes, he does have to go back to Korea June 20th but then he's home for good in August.
I haven't seen him in 9 months.
I'm going to see my husband tomorrow.
With New York City.
It was FABULOUS.
I'm home now and I promise to tell all about my adventures next week.
Tomorrow, however, I'll be writing about something else.
Or rather, SOMEONE else.
Because guess what?
Tom comes home tomorrow!
We're moving to Oklahoma. Our final day in Wyoming is June 14th.
Yes, he does have to go back to Korea June 20th but then he's home for good in August.
I haven't seen him in 9 months.
I'm going to see my husband tomorrow.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
New York City Here I Come!
“I’d prefer you stay off the subways. Weird people ride subways. Don’t walk around at night. Weird people are out at night and they’ll abduct you and kill you. Don’t let anyone buy you a drink. Weird people will drug you and kill you. Don’t—”
“Tom. Holy crap. I’ll be fine,” I insisted. I mean, it was flattering he was so concerned. But it was getting borderline annoying. And okay, he was scaring me.
See, I’m going to New York City today with my best friend. It’s a late Mother’s Day gift. Or early birthday gift. I’m there until Thursday. So I’ll probably be missing from my blog. I’m not dead or anything. (I hope.) Just wanted to point that out if you’re like Tom and think New York is crawling with murderers.
Actually, come to think of it, it probably is. I watch Blue Bloods and it’s based in New York and someone is dying every week.
My parents are a tad concerned too. I’m their only kid. They don’t want me walking around at night either. It’s not like I’d wander into an alley and be like, “Oo an actual New York alley!” I’ve seen Home Alone 2. I know what happens in alleys. (Oh wait, the robbers almost shoot Kevin in Central Park at night. Not an alley. Right? Note to self: avoid Central Park at night because didn’t one of the robbers say, “Grown men go into Central Park at night and don’t come out alive..”)
I plan on being safe.
It’s my first time in New York City so I can’t wait. I’ve wanted to go for years. Sex and the City made it look so glamorous. And speaking of Sex and the City, we’re actually going on a Sex and the City tour. They even give you a cosmopolitan to drink. I won’t look as fancy as the Sex and the City ladies though. I plan on wearing flip flops. Or my Sketchers Tone Ups, so my ass firms while I’m exploring the city.
Maybe I’ll run into John Krasinski! He wanders the city.
Only I’m sure Tom would add, “And stay away from John Krasinski,” if I let him know this.
Is it wrong that I can’t wait to dance on the giant piano at FAO Schwartz?
Or sip a hot chocolate at Serendipity 3?
Or…or…stroll down Fifth Avenue and wish I were rich?
Don’t worry though.
I’ll try to do it all during the day.
“Tom. Holy crap. I’ll be fine,” I insisted. I mean, it was flattering he was so concerned. But it was getting borderline annoying. And okay, he was scaring me.
See, I’m going to New York City today with my best friend. It’s a late Mother’s Day gift. Or early birthday gift. I’m there until Thursday. So I’ll probably be missing from my blog. I’m not dead or anything. (I hope.) Just wanted to point that out if you’re like Tom and think New York is crawling with murderers.
Actually, come to think of it, it probably is. I watch Blue Bloods and it’s based in New York and someone is dying every week.
My parents are a tad concerned too. I’m their only kid. They don’t want me walking around at night either. It’s not like I’d wander into an alley and be like, “Oo an actual New York alley!” I’ve seen Home Alone 2. I know what happens in alleys. (Oh wait, the robbers almost shoot Kevin in Central Park at night. Not an alley. Right? Note to self: avoid Central Park at night because didn’t one of the robbers say, “Grown men go into Central Park at night and don’t come out alive..”)
I plan on being safe.
It’s my first time in New York City so I can’t wait. I’ve wanted to go for years. Sex and the City made it look so glamorous. And speaking of Sex and the City, we’re actually going on a Sex and the City tour. They even give you a cosmopolitan to drink. I won’t look as fancy as the Sex and the City ladies though. I plan on wearing flip flops. Or my Sketchers Tone Ups, so my ass firms while I’m exploring the city.
Maybe I’ll run into John Krasinski! He wanders the city.
Only I’m sure Tom would add, “And stay away from John Krasinski,” if I let him know this.
Is it wrong that I can’t wait to dance on the giant piano at FAO Schwartz?
Or sip a hot chocolate at Serendipity 3?
Or…or…stroll down Fifth Avenue and wish I were rich?
Don’t worry though.
I’ll try to do it all during the day.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Off to Texas!
Some people love to fly on airplanes.
I am not one of those people.
Today I’m flying to Texas because my Nana Jo turns 90 tomorrow.
Flying just makes me…well, I sort of feel like I’m walking to my death the second I step onto the aircraft. When the flight attendant is like, “Hello and welcome,” I want to reply, “Please don’t kill me.”
Traveling with children doesn’t make it any easier. Usually I have Tom to help me out. Not this time. And okay, I’ve traveled with the kids alone before, but still.
Tom would also be there to calm me down.
“Will you play Lost with me?” I would ask. Lost is a game I play and it’s based on the show Lost. (Duh) It doesn’t make any sense but to calm myself down, I pick passenger and say which character on Lost they would be in case we crashed on an island.
“No,” Tom would usually say.
I’d ignore him and whisper, “You can be Jack. Only you aren’t a doctor but still, I’m sure you’ve been trained to take a bullet out of someone, right?”
Tom would blink at me. “What are you TALKING about?” He never watched Lost with me because he’s strange. He claims the show is weird.
“Shhh, Jack, I’m thinking. I couldn’t be Kate, because I suck at tracking people. I’d get lost in a second and would curl up in a fetal position and cry. I could be Clare, only I wouldn’t go crazy. Then again, if I went without my Diet Coke for days on end, I might. Ha ha.”
“I really don’t get how—” Tom would start again.
“Tommy could be Aaron. That man over there could be Sawyer. He’s pretty cute,” I’d continue.
“Uh, excuse me, I’m sitting right here,” Tom fumed.
“And there’s our Hurley! He’s even eating a candy bar. Perfect!”
By this point, Tom would be flipping through a SkyMall magazine totally ignoring me. But still. It helped take my mind off the fact that I was in a death can with wings.
Who will play Lost with me today? I have a feeling if I leaned over and asked a perfect stranger to play Lost with me, he’d ask if he could change his seat. If I asked my son to play with me he’d say, “You wouldn’t let me watch Lost. You said the smoke monster might scare me. Or people called The Others. So I can’t play.”
Who will calm me down? If I didn’t feel like playing Lost on the plane, I’d scribble Tom a note with I’M SCARED written across it and he’d take my hand without a word.
I should be fine though. I’ll just think of happy things.
Like the fact that my husband will be home in a week.
I am not one of those people.
Today I’m flying to Texas because my Nana Jo turns 90 tomorrow.
Flying just makes me…well, I sort of feel like I’m walking to my death the second I step onto the aircraft. When the flight attendant is like, “Hello and welcome,” I want to reply, “Please don’t kill me.”
Traveling with children doesn’t make it any easier. Usually I have Tom to help me out. Not this time. And okay, I’ve traveled with the kids alone before, but still.
Tom would also be there to calm me down.
“Will you play Lost with me?” I would ask. Lost is a game I play and it’s based on the show Lost. (Duh) It doesn’t make any sense but to calm myself down, I pick passenger and say which character on Lost they would be in case we crashed on an island.
“No,” Tom would usually say.
I’d ignore him and whisper, “You can be Jack. Only you aren’t a doctor but still, I’m sure you’ve been trained to take a bullet out of someone, right?”
Tom would blink at me. “What are you TALKING about?” He never watched Lost with me because he’s strange. He claims the show is weird.
“Shhh, Jack, I’m thinking. I couldn’t be Kate, because I suck at tracking people. I’d get lost in a second and would curl up in a fetal position and cry. I could be Clare, only I wouldn’t go crazy. Then again, if I went without my Diet Coke for days on end, I might. Ha ha.”
“I really don’t get how—” Tom would start again.
“Tommy could be Aaron. That man over there could be Sawyer. He’s pretty cute,” I’d continue.
“Uh, excuse me, I’m sitting right here,” Tom fumed.
“And there’s our Hurley! He’s even eating a candy bar. Perfect!”
By this point, Tom would be flipping through a SkyMall magazine totally ignoring me. But still. It helped take my mind off the fact that I was in a death can with wings.
Who will play Lost with me today? I have a feeling if I leaned over and asked a perfect stranger to play Lost with me, he’d ask if he could change his seat. If I asked my son to play with me he’d say, “You wouldn’t let me watch Lost. You said the smoke monster might scare me. Or people called The Others. So I can’t play.”
Who will calm me down? If I didn’t feel like playing Lost on the plane, I’d scribble Tom a note with I’M SCARED written across it and he’d take my hand without a word.
I should be fine though. I’ll just think of happy things.
Like the fact that my husband will be home in a week.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
National Donut Day Hosted By Entenmann's!
Donuts.
I love them.
I almost always have a box in the house.
A lot of times, they are from Entenmann’s. Entenmann’s, if you didn’t know, makes a variety of delicious products. From muffins, to cakes, and yes, my favorite, donuts.
This is why I was thrilled when someone from Entenmann’s contacted me.
Did you know there is a National Donut Day?
I didn’t.
But there is! And it’s held on June 3rd.
Entenmann’s has partnered with The Salvation Army to celebrate. On June 3rd, Entenmann’s is going to honor the Salvation Army volunteers who served donuts in WWI. Did you know the Salvation Army is credited with popularizing the donut? I didn’t! I think it’s fabulous. Thank you, Salvation Army.
Entenmann’s have given me a prize pack to give to one lucky reader:
It consists of a t-shirt, a magnet, a coupon good for $5.00 off an Entemann’s product, and a package of tissues.
Rules:
--Must be 18 or older
--Must live in the US
Mandatory entry: Like Entenmann’s Facebook page. For every like they receive, they donate $1 to the Salvation Army. Even if you don't want to enter the contest, you could still like the company for this wonderful cause.
They also have a sweepstakes going on over there. You can enter to win an iPad here! The sweepstakes is going on until June 15th.
I’ll announce the winner on May 26th in the evening using random.org.
Good luck!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
He's Coming Home
I was in the middle of trying to organize the garage—and that is NOT going well, by the way—when it hit me.
Tom was coming home.
Tom was coming home next week.
TOM WAS COMING HOME NEXT WEEK!
Let me back up.
Remember when I wrote this post? Writing about how I hoped the Air Force would let us move next month so the kids wouldn’t miss school?
Well. The Air Force listened. They gave Tom his orders to Oklahoma.
Tom told me this on my Facebook page at first. When I wake up, he’s usually going to bed, you see. He said something like, “I have exciting news.”
And then he left me an inappropriate wall post quoting the song about doing it like they do on the Discovery Channel.
I was like, “Um, okay? Does that mean you got your orders?”
He KNOWS how impatient I am. He should have left me a message saying, “Hey, I got my orders.” Instead I had to wait for hours until he got on. He thinks it’s funny to torture me.
When he got on, he said that yes, he got his orders.
Our next step is hoping the military will move us. Our goal is to be in Oklahoma the week of June 13th.
Anyway, as soon as I found that out, I went into panic mode and surveyed all our stuff. How would the movers pack it all? What if they broke something? What if they STOLE something?
I was so busy worrying that I didn’t really focus that Tom would be home.
After nine months, my husband would be HOME.
And yes, he does have to go back to Korea on June 20th. Then he’s home for good in August.
“I have to shave!” I suddenly yelled in the garage. To no one. I ought to pull out my sexier underwear since I don’t think Tom fully appreciates my cotton ones. I have to...
...share the remote again.
...share my bed again.
I love having the bed to myself. Now I’m going to have to share it with a man. Who snores. And farts. And makes other weird noises.
What would I wear when Tom came home? A dress? Jeans? When Tom came home for Qatar (he was there for six months) I just had on jeans. Would that be okay in this situation?
What if he thought it was funny to wake me up early in the morning since his body clock was all messed up? Maybe he forgot how mean I am when I’m disturbed early in the morning. I wouldn’t want to snap at him—after all, he had been gone for nine months—but sometimes my body just goes on auto pilot and the second I’m woken up, I immediately start to curse.
Still.
Tom would be home.
My partner.
He’d be home to start a new chapter in our lives. The one where we move to Oklahoma.
Did I mention that we don’t travel well together? If we ever went on The Amazing Race, most of our conversation that we’d have back and forth would be bleeped out because of all the cursing that would be done.
This is going to be interesting…
Tom was coming home.
Tom was coming home next week.
TOM WAS COMING HOME NEXT WEEK!
Let me back up.
Remember when I wrote this post? Writing about how I hoped the Air Force would let us move next month so the kids wouldn’t miss school?
Well. The Air Force listened. They gave Tom his orders to Oklahoma.
Tom told me this on my Facebook page at first. When I wake up, he’s usually going to bed, you see. He said something like, “I have exciting news.”
And then he left me an inappropriate wall post quoting the song about doing it like they do on the Discovery Channel.
I was like, “Um, okay? Does that mean you got your orders?”
He KNOWS how impatient I am. He should have left me a message saying, “Hey, I got my orders.” Instead I had to wait for hours until he got on. He thinks it’s funny to torture me.
When he got on, he said that yes, he got his orders.
Our next step is hoping the military will move us. Our goal is to be in Oklahoma the week of June 13th.
Anyway, as soon as I found that out, I went into panic mode and surveyed all our stuff. How would the movers pack it all? What if they broke something? What if they STOLE something?
I was so busy worrying that I didn’t really focus that Tom would be home.
After nine months, my husband would be HOME.
And yes, he does have to go back to Korea on June 20th. Then he’s home for good in August.
“I have to shave!” I suddenly yelled in the garage. To no one. I ought to pull out my sexier underwear since I don’t think Tom fully appreciates my cotton ones. I have to...
...share the remote again.
...share my bed again.
I love having the bed to myself. Now I’m going to have to share it with a man. Who snores. And farts. And makes other weird noises.
What would I wear when Tom came home? A dress? Jeans? When Tom came home for Qatar (he was there for six months) I just had on jeans. Would that be okay in this situation?
What if he thought it was funny to wake me up early in the morning since his body clock was all messed up? Maybe he forgot how mean I am when I’m disturbed early in the morning. I wouldn’t want to snap at him—after all, he had been gone for nine months—but sometimes my body just goes on auto pilot and the second I’m woken up, I immediately start to curse.
Still.
Tom would be home.
My partner.
He’d be home to start a new chapter in our lives. The one where we move to Oklahoma.
Did I mention that we don’t travel well together? If we ever went on The Amazing Race, most of our conversation that we’d have back and forth would be bleeped out because of all the cursing that would be done.
This is going to be interesting…
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!
I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.
----------------------
To have never gotten a manicure. This is because I have a bad habit of picking or chewing my nails. Gross, I know.
To not understand when parents are like, “We went to McDonalds for dinner. Bad, I know…” It’s not bad. Don’t knock McDonalds!
To be an awful packer. I’m leaving for Texas on Friday for my Nana Jo’s 90th birthday party. I’m also an awful flier. The slightest jolt makes me nervous.
To think it’s interesting that they choose to replace Charlie Sheen on Two and a Half Men with Ashton Kutcher.
To be excited that they are making a Men In Black III.
To have really wanted Zev and Justin to win The Amazing Race.
To not like the Charmin commercials. I don’t want to see cartoon bears with toilet paper bits on their asses.
To be bummed that Brothers & Sisters got cancelled. I really liked the show. Also, The Event was cancelled but I hear another network might pick it up. (Coughs, SyFy, coughs…come on…)
To hope I don’t get lost in New York City. When I return from Texas, I’m going there with my best friend for a few days. No kids. It means more planes though. Gulps.
To want to see Bridesmaids. It looks hilarious. Plus it has Suki from Gilmore Girls in it although she plays an entirely different character in the movie.
-------------------
And good news! Tom got his orders to Oklahoma. So we’re moving next month.
Bring on the panic.
----------------------
To have never gotten a manicure. This is because I have a bad habit of picking or chewing my nails. Gross, I know.
To not understand when parents are like, “We went to McDonalds for dinner. Bad, I know…” It’s not bad. Don’t knock McDonalds!
To be an awful packer. I’m leaving for Texas on Friday for my Nana Jo’s 90th birthday party. I’m also an awful flier. The slightest jolt makes me nervous.
To think it’s interesting that they choose to replace Charlie Sheen on Two and a Half Men with Ashton Kutcher.
To be excited that they are making a Men In Black III.
To have really wanted Zev and Justin to win The Amazing Race.
To not like the Charmin commercials. I don’t want to see cartoon bears with toilet paper bits on their asses.
To be bummed that Brothers & Sisters got cancelled. I really liked the show. Also, The Event was cancelled but I hear another network might pick it up. (Coughs, SyFy, coughs…come on…)
To hope I don’t get lost in New York City. When I return from Texas, I’m going there with my best friend for a few days. No kids. It means more planes though. Gulps.
To want to see Bridesmaids. It looks hilarious. Plus it has Suki from Gilmore Girls in it although she plays an entirely different character in the movie.
-------------------
And good news! Tom got his orders to Oklahoma. So we’re moving next month.
Bring on the panic.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Will We Move?
“So I’ve been thinking: I really don’t feel like moving when I come back from Korea,” Tom said as we spoke over Skype.
I sipped my water. “That’s too bad,” I replied unsympathetically. He knew the drill: he’d come back from Korea in August and we’d move soon after.
“There might be a chance that I can take my R&R in June and move you guys. That way, I don’t have to worry about it when I get home,” Tom explained.
I froze. It was already May. I’d have to get the house ready for a move in a month? Did he forget how much STUFF we had? I know he had been gone for nine months but honestly, how could he forget the piles and piles of STUFF?
Weirdly, the next day, my phone rang and it was the housing office from Oklahoma, where we’re moving next.
She was calling to let me know she had a house for us. If we could get there in June.
I checked out the house…and people, there are walk in closets. Small, naturally, because it is military housing. But it’s a WALK IN CLOSET!
When Tom called on Skype I said, “I’m on board with the moving thing in June. So when will you be home?”
Tom chuckled. “It doesn’t work that easy.”
Um.
It was like he just spoke to me in Farsi. What did he mean it doesn’t work that easy? We had a house. With a walk in CLOSET.
“The military has to give me my orders to Oklahoma. And since my report no later than date is September, they might not want to do that,” Tom said.
THEN WHY BRING UP MOVING NEXT MONTH IN THE FIRST PLACE?
Here’s the thing though: moving next month would be beneficial to us. And not because of the walk in closet.
I looked it up and their school starts the second week of August.
If we went when Tom’s orders said, we’d probably get there late August, therefore the kids would miss school.
Also, Tommy has Aspergers and needs to get into a new schedule. Missing school panics him. If he misses all that school, he’d have a meltdown.
Tom explained this to the people who do the orders in Korea.
They don’t seem to care.
They keep saying, “You’re not a priority. People are leaving before you.”
Yes. We get that. But we have a special needs kid who needs to get on a schedule. We don’t want him to miss school.
And okay, I don’t want to give up my walk in closet.
Did I mention the house was brand new? Just built?
The people who do the orders in Korea keep giving Tom the run around. “We’ll find out something next week, blah, blah blah…”
I want to fly over and knock these people over their heads with my purse. What don’t they understand? If the person were a woman, surely she’d understand the importance of a walk in closet.
But mainly, we need to get Tommy situated. Otherwise they are more than welcome to deal with his meltdown.
Plus, plane tickets get more and more expensive by the day. The military does not pay for Tom’s R&R from Korea. So that’s $2000 that WE have to pay. And that number is slowly creeping up. It’s basically wiping out our savings account.
Tom is supposed to find something out this week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the Air Force helps us out.
In the meantime, I’ve been cleaning and organizing just in case we DO move next month.
This is not easy.
As I said, I have a lot of stuff. Tom does too. He has these ugly jackets that he won’t let me get rid of because his Dad bought them for him. And I can’t argue, because his Dad died of a heart attack in 2002. So if I’m like, “Your dad won’t mind if I toss the leather jacket,” that sounds cruel. I can’t say, “If you ever wear that neon colored Nascar jacket, I swear, I’ll point and laugh.”
I have stuff from high school. Notebooks and old French tests with frowny faces all over them because my French teacher was a gimlet who liked to scare me. She’d claim I wasn’t TRYING to speak her language and I swear, I was, but excuse me if it wasn’t computing in my brain.
I got trapped in our garage because of all our stuff. I had to shout for Tommy and his friend to dig me out.
I’ve been feeling slightly stressed. It’s horrible to not know what is going on.
“Explain to the Air Force that—” I began while talking to Tom on Skype.
“I’ve explained. They know. It’s just if they want to help us out,” Tom cut me off.
“Tom, I was trapped in our garage because I’m trying like mad to get this house organized. The military HAS to help us,” I grumbled. I stared down at my fingernails. They were all chipped and ruined because of all the cleaning I had been doing. Where did all the stuff come from? I never realized how much we had until I started to go through it all.
“I hope they will,” Tom said. I wish he’d get upset with me. Or passionate. Something. Instead he chomped on M&Ms and said he hoped to hear something on Monday.
“Tommy needs to start school on time. I need to enroll him,” I said. That was another thing: I had called the enrollment building in Oklahoma and was told it would be in our best interest to enroll the kids in June. Otherwise it gets packed in July and August.
“I know,” Tom replied.
“Our brand new house with the walk in closet! Could be gone. FOREVER,” I said dramatically. I tried to snap my finger for emphasis but no sound emerged. I suck at snapping.
“We’ll see what happens.”
So.
That’s what I’m doing now in between cleaning and organizing.
Waiting to see what happens.
Keep your fingers crossed for us.
I sipped my water. “That’s too bad,” I replied unsympathetically. He knew the drill: he’d come back from Korea in August and we’d move soon after.
“There might be a chance that I can take my R&R in June and move you guys. That way, I don’t have to worry about it when I get home,” Tom explained.
I froze. It was already May. I’d have to get the house ready for a move in a month? Did he forget how much STUFF we had? I know he had been gone for nine months but honestly, how could he forget the piles and piles of STUFF?
Weirdly, the next day, my phone rang and it was the housing office from Oklahoma, where we’re moving next.
She was calling to let me know she had a house for us. If we could get there in June.
I checked out the house…and people, there are walk in closets. Small, naturally, because it is military housing. But it’s a WALK IN CLOSET!
When Tom called on Skype I said, “I’m on board with the moving thing in June. So when will you be home?”
Tom chuckled. “It doesn’t work that easy.”
Um.
It was like he just spoke to me in Farsi. What did he mean it doesn’t work that easy? We had a house. With a walk in CLOSET.
“The military has to give me my orders to Oklahoma. And since my report no later than date is September, they might not want to do that,” Tom said.
THEN WHY BRING UP MOVING NEXT MONTH IN THE FIRST PLACE?
Here’s the thing though: moving next month would be beneficial to us. And not because of the walk in closet.
I looked it up and their school starts the second week of August.
If we went when Tom’s orders said, we’d probably get there late August, therefore the kids would miss school.
Also, Tommy has Aspergers and needs to get into a new schedule. Missing school panics him. If he misses all that school, he’d have a meltdown.
Tom explained this to the people who do the orders in Korea.
They don’t seem to care.
They keep saying, “You’re not a priority. People are leaving before you.”
Yes. We get that. But we have a special needs kid who needs to get on a schedule. We don’t want him to miss school.
And okay, I don’t want to give up my walk in closet.
Did I mention the house was brand new? Just built?
The people who do the orders in Korea keep giving Tom the run around. “We’ll find out something next week, blah, blah blah…”
I want to fly over and knock these people over their heads with my purse. What don’t they understand? If the person were a woman, surely she’d understand the importance of a walk in closet.
But mainly, we need to get Tommy situated. Otherwise they are more than welcome to deal with his meltdown.
Plus, plane tickets get more and more expensive by the day. The military does not pay for Tom’s R&R from Korea. So that’s $2000 that WE have to pay. And that number is slowly creeping up. It’s basically wiping out our savings account.
Tom is supposed to find something out this week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the Air Force helps us out.
In the meantime, I’ve been cleaning and organizing just in case we DO move next month.
This is not easy.
As I said, I have a lot of stuff. Tom does too. He has these ugly jackets that he won’t let me get rid of because his Dad bought them for him. And I can’t argue, because his Dad died of a heart attack in 2002. So if I’m like, “Your dad won’t mind if I toss the leather jacket,” that sounds cruel. I can’t say, “If you ever wear that neon colored Nascar jacket, I swear, I’ll point and laugh.”
I have stuff from high school. Notebooks and old French tests with frowny faces all over them because my French teacher was a gimlet who liked to scare me. She’d claim I wasn’t TRYING to speak her language and I swear, I was, but excuse me if it wasn’t computing in my brain.
I got trapped in our garage because of all our stuff. I had to shout for Tommy and his friend to dig me out.
I’ve been feeling slightly stressed. It’s horrible to not know what is going on.
“Explain to the Air Force that—” I began while talking to Tom on Skype.
“I’ve explained. They know. It’s just if they want to help us out,” Tom cut me off.
“Tom, I was trapped in our garage because I’m trying like mad to get this house organized. The military HAS to help us,” I grumbled. I stared down at my fingernails. They were all chipped and ruined because of all the cleaning I had been doing. Where did all the stuff come from? I never realized how much we had until I started to go through it all.
“I hope they will,” Tom said. I wish he’d get upset with me. Or passionate. Something. Instead he chomped on M&Ms and said he hoped to hear something on Monday.
“Tommy needs to start school on time. I need to enroll him,” I said. That was another thing: I had called the enrollment building in Oklahoma and was told it would be in our best interest to enroll the kids in June. Otherwise it gets packed in July and August.
“I know,” Tom replied.
“Our brand new house with the walk in closet! Could be gone. FOREVER,” I said dramatically. I tried to snap my finger for emphasis but no sound emerged. I suck at snapping.
“We’ll see what happens.”
So.
That’s what I’m doing now in between cleaning and organizing.
Waiting to see what happens.
Keep your fingers crossed for us.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Thirty One Gifts Review and Giveaway**CLOSED
**Winner is announced here**
Take a look at this bag:
Isn’t it cute?
And it has a lot of room too:
Honestly, I’m not a huge purse person. I mean, my purses usually come from the clearance rack at Target.
But this purse? I really like.
My best friend Jennifer gave it to me for Christmas. She ordered it from Thirty-One Gifts since she happens to be a consultant for them.
For those who don’t know, Thirty-One Gifts is a company that offers fabulous affordable items from purses to many other accessories. It also gives women the opportunity to sell the items and earn money.
Curious about the stuff Thirty-One Gifts sells? Well, Jennifer also sent me a package of different items from the company.
First up is the zipper pouch:
This can hold whatever you feel like carrying around. I usually let Natalie pick the items she wants to take when we go out. She chose the following:
A multitude of items, as you can see. I usually keep it all ready to go in the car. It’s also a fabulous way to take toys to keep kids (or adults) entertained in restaurants.
Then there is the thermal tote:
It’s lined with silver insulation that can keep foods cold or hot. Jennifer was telling me how her Mom put ice in there to see how long it would stay like ice before melting. It ended up staying icy for 12 hours! That’s pretty dang impressive. The thermal tote is going to come in handy when we travel from Wyoming to Oklahoma. I cannot STAND warm drinks so this will help keep my Diet Coke nice and cold.
Last up is the key fob. This helps me to find my keys in my usually messy purse. Normally I’d have to dig through my wallet, my receipts, my trash, etc…to find my keys. With the key fob, I immediately spot them.
I was definitely impressed with everything Jennifer sent me. And bonus? You can personalize almost everything that you order from Thirty-One Gifts. Whether it be your name or a favorite phrase..they can do that for you. You get to pick your own font, your own color...the possibilities are endless.
And good news!
Jennifer is offering a small prize from Thirty-One Gifts to a lucky reader.
Rules:
--Must live in the US
--Must be 18 or older
--For mandatory entries: Go to Jennifer’s Thirty-One Gifts page, click on view our catalog, and tell me what you’d buy for yourself (or if you’re male, what you’d buy for a female friend..)
Like Jennifer’s Thirty One Gifts Facebook Page
Good luck! I will announce the winner on Sunday, May 22nd.
Take a look at this bag:
Isn’t it cute?
And it has a lot of room too:
Honestly, I’m not a huge purse person. I mean, my purses usually come from the clearance rack at Target.
But this purse? I really like.
My best friend Jennifer gave it to me for Christmas. She ordered it from Thirty-One Gifts since she happens to be a consultant for them.
For those who don’t know, Thirty-One Gifts is a company that offers fabulous affordable items from purses to many other accessories. It also gives women the opportunity to sell the items and earn money.
Curious about the stuff Thirty-One Gifts sells? Well, Jennifer also sent me a package of different items from the company.
First up is the zipper pouch:
This can hold whatever you feel like carrying around. I usually let Natalie pick the items she wants to take when we go out. She chose the following:
A multitude of items, as you can see. I usually keep it all ready to go in the car. It’s also a fabulous way to take toys to keep kids (or adults) entertained in restaurants.
Then there is the thermal tote:
It’s lined with silver insulation that can keep foods cold or hot. Jennifer was telling me how her Mom put ice in there to see how long it would stay like ice before melting. It ended up staying icy for 12 hours! That’s pretty dang impressive. The thermal tote is going to come in handy when we travel from Wyoming to Oklahoma. I cannot STAND warm drinks so this will help keep my Diet Coke nice and cold.
Last up is the key fob. This helps me to find my keys in my usually messy purse. Normally I’d have to dig through my wallet, my receipts, my trash, etc…to find my keys. With the key fob, I immediately spot them.
I was definitely impressed with everything Jennifer sent me. And bonus? You can personalize almost everything that you order from Thirty-One Gifts. Whether it be your name or a favorite phrase..they can do that for you. You get to pick your own font, your own color...the possibilities are endless.
And good news!
Jennifer is offering a small prize from Thirty-One Gifts to a lucky reader.
Rules:
--Must live in the US
--Must be 18 or older
--For mandatory entries: Go to Jennifer’s Thirty-One Gifts page, click on view our catalog, and tell me what you’d buy for yourself (or if you’re male, what you’d buy for a female friend..)
Like Jennifer’s Thirty One Gifts Facebook Page
Good luck! I will announce the winner on Sunday, May 22nd.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Random Things That Have Made Me Smile
Today I decided to do a post of random things that have made me smile this week.
You wouldn’t think pizza from a box would be delicious, but this kind truly is. We have it for dinner a lot.
This is a response that Tommy wrote for one of his class work assignment. I chuckled.
Tommy made this for me. The only problem is that I have green eyes (hazel, to be totally specific), not brown eyes. Typical male forgetting details...I mentioned Tommy’s mistake and he was like, “Oh, really?” like I was lying or something.
Ha!
Looking at this photo made me really want to go back to Disney. It was a blast.
This was a letter in Redbook magazine. I think this lady needs to chill.
**And I am so glad that Blogger is up again. I was going through withdrawals.**
You wouldn’t think pizza from a box would be delicious, but this kind truly is. We have it for dinner a lot.
This is a response that Tommy wrote for one of his class work assignment. I chuckled.
Tommy made this for me. The only problem is that I have green eyes (hazel, to be totally specific), not brown eyes. Typical male forgetting details...I mentioned Tommy’s mistake and he was like, “Oh, really?” like I was lying or something.
Ha!
Looking at this photo made me really want to go back to Disney. It was a blast.
This was a letter in Redbook magazine. I think this lady needs to chill.
**And I am so glad that Blogger is up again. I was going through withdrawals.**
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Inside Natalie's Closet
It’s no secret that I love to buy clothes for my kids.
So occasionally I post pictures of them in their new outfit.
This one is from Gymboree’s Tahitian Butterfly line.
And...oops....
Anyone else’s kid have a problem with bottoms that fall down the waist? Thank goodness for an adjustable waist. Otherwise this would happen a lot.
So anyway.
Back to pictures.
Natalie is like, “So what do we think about Bristol Palin's new face?”
Then I asked her to be like a model and she did this:
I bought a matching ring to go with the outfit. I wanted Natalie to hold the ring up to her cheek and look into the camera.
This did not go well.
I kept trying to get her to hold it up to her cheek and she found it hilarious.
“Hold the ring up to my cheek? HA!”
I eventually gave up.
And oh, I stepped on that ring the next day. Barefoot. Yes, it hurt.
Poor pretty butterfly ring.
So occasionally I post pictures of them in their new outfit.
This one is from Gymboree’s Tahitian Butterfly line.
And...oops....
Anyone else’s kid have a problem with bottoms that fall down the waist? Thank goodness for an adjustable waist. Otherwise this would happen a lot.
So anyway.
Back to pictures.
Natalie is like, “So what do we think about Bristol Palin's new face?”
Then I asked her to be like a model and she did this:
I bought a matching ring to go with the outfit. I wanted Natalie to hold the ring up to her cheek and look into the camera.
This did not go well.
I kept trying to get her to hold it up to her cheek and she found it hilarious.
“Hold the ring up to my cheek? HA!”
I eventually gave up.
And oh, I stepped on that ring the next day. Barefoot. Yes, it hurt.
Poor pretty butterfly ring.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Big Lipped
She had escaped.
Again.
I had a pretty good idea where she was. I walked into the dining room and squatted down.
“Natalie,” I said to my daughter, who was hunched underneath the table. “We have to go.”
Natalie shook her head as she hugged her knees to her chest. “I don’t want shots!”
I sighed. She had told me this all morning. “Darling, we have to get them. They’ll keep you healthy.”
“No!”
“Natalie, we are going. Do you want hepatitis A?”
“Yes! I want hepatitis!” Only she pronounced it “hep-eh-TIT-us.” So now people were going to think my daughter was being vulgar. Fantastic.
“We’re going,” I said firmly and reached under the table. I managed to grab onto her ankle and pulled her out. She tried desperately to claw at the carpet to no avail.
“No SHOTTTTTSSSSSS!” she bellowed dramatically. She was going crazy, shaking like a maniac as I carried her to the front door. She almost climbed on top of my head. Her foot kicked me in the mouth and I thought, “Yeah, this is my life…” I brought her out to the car and wrestled her into her seat.
“You’ve known about these shots for days,” I reminded her as I struggled to buckle her in. “This shouldn’t be a surprise.”
All week I had asked if she was going to be brave when she got shots.
“Yes,” she had lied.
“And no crying?” I probed.
“No,” she had lied.
My lips were tingling from being kicked as I got behind the wheel. Now I was going to look like a bad version of Angelina Jolie. Or Jessica Simpson, when she got that awful lip injection and claimed that nothing was amiss even though her lips were like 3 inches from her face.
“No SHOTTSS!” Natalie whimpered. Her shouting was tapering off; she knew she was defeated.
“They keep you healthy,” I repeated. “Despite what some parents might think, I believe shots are a good thing. I personally wouldn’t want whooping cough or measles but that’s just me. Although, everyone has a right to choose what is right for their children, which is the beauty of America. Understand?”
Natalie blinked at me. She was probably wishing I was one of those parents who didn’t make their kids get shots.
“The shots will be quick, I promise.”
“Will it hurted me?” Natalie sniffled.
“It’ll feel like a pinch,” I replied truthfully. I wasn’t about to lie. If I lied, then Natalie would shout, “YOU BIG LIPPED LIAR!” as she got the shots.
“I don’t want a pinch,” Natalie cried.
“It’ll be fast.”
At the base clinic, I picked Natalie up so she wouldn’t take off. Her fingers were entangled in my hair as we walked into the immunization room. I thought she was going to pull a chunk of hair from my scalp. That way I’d have a gigantic bald spot to go with my oversized lips.
Surprisingly, Natalie sat nicely as we waited to be called back. I thought I might have to put her in one of those leashes and tie it to the chair.
“I want hep-eh-TIT-us,” Natalie informed the doctor who called us back. She gave me a surprised look.
“Hepatitis,” I corrected. “And I didn’t have a lip injection, my daughter kicked me.” No, I didn’t say that last part. I wanted to, because the doctor kept frowning at my mouth as if to say, “What’s going on there? Should I ask, or would that be rude? Probably rude.”
I had to sit Natalie in my lap and hug her arms against her chest as the doctor put the shots in her thigh.
Naturally, Natalie screamed….into my right ear, which immediately started to ring. By the time she moves out, I swear I’m going to be partially deaf. She’s made my ears ring more times than I can remember.
“All done!” the doctor called out and Natalie’s screeches immediately ceased. She glanced at the band-aids the doctor had left on her thighs.
“I like,” Natalie said, running her thumb across her band-aids with Charlie Brown on the front. It was like the shots never happened. A wide smile was across her face as she hopped down from the exam table.
“Can she have a lollipop?” the doctor asked me.
I nodded and Natalie squealed with delight as she picked a pink one.
“I like this place,” Natalie told me. She narrowed her eyes at the doctor. “I don’t like the shots though.”
We left after that and I let out a breath of relief as we stepped outside. We were done with shots. Hallelujah!
Until next year, that is.
I’ll make Tom bring her then.
Again.
I had a pretty good idea where she was. I walked into the dining room and squatted down.
“Natalie,” I said to my daughter, who was hunched underneath the table. “We have to go.”
Natalie shook her head as she hugged her knees to her chest. “I don’t want shots!”
I sighed. She had told me this all morning. “Darling, we have to get them. They’ll keep you healthy.”
“No!”
“Natalie, we are going. Do you want hepatitis A?”
“Yes! I want hepatitis!” Only she pronounced it “hep-eh-TIT-us.” So now people were going to think my daughter was being vulgar. Fantastic.
“We’re going,” I said firmly and reached under the table. I managed to grab onto her ankle and pulled her out. She tried desperately to claw at the carpet to no avail.
“No SHOTTTTTSSSSSS!” she bellowed dramatically. She was going crazy, shaking like a maniac as I carried her to the front door. She almost climbed on top of my head. Her foot kicked me in the mouth and I thought, “Yeah, this is my life…” I brought her out to the car and wrestled her into her seat.
“You’ve known about these shots for days,” I reminded her as I struggled to buckle her in. “This shouldn’t be a surprise.”
All week I had asked if she was going to be brave when she got shots.
“Yes,” she had lied.
“And no crying?” I probed.
“No,” she had lied.
My lips were tingling from being kicked as I got behind the wheel. Now I was going to look like a bad version of Angelina Jolie. Or Jessica Simpson, when she got that awful lip injection and claimed that nothing was amiss even though her lips were like 3 inches from her face.
“No SHOTTSS!” Natalie whimpered. Her shouting was tapering off; she knew she was defeated.
“They keep you healthy,” I repeated. “Despite what some parents might think, I believe shots are a good thing. I personally wouldn’t want whooping cough or measles but that’s just me. Although, everyone has a right to choose what is right for their children, which is the beauty of America. Understand?”
Natalie blinked at me. She was probably wishing I was one of those parents who didn’t make their kids get shots.
“The shots will be quick, I promise.”
“Will it hurted me?” Natalie sniffled.
“It’ll feel like a pinch,” I replied truthfully. I wasn’t about to lie. If I lied, then Natalie would shout, “YOU BIG LIPPED LIAR!” as she got the shots.
“I don’t want a pinch,” Natalie cried.
“It’ll be fast.”
At the base clinic, I picked Natalie up so she wouldn’t take off. Her fingers were entangled in my hair as we walked into the immunization room. I thought she was going to pull a chunk of hair from my scalp. That way I’d have a gigantic bald spot to go with my oversized lips.
Surprisingly, Natalie sat nicely as we waited to be called back. I thought I might have to put her in one of those leashes and tie it to the chair.
“I want hep-eh-TIT-us,” Natalie informed the doctor who called us back. She gave me a surprised look.
“Hepatitis,” I corrected. “And I didn’t have a lip injection, my daughter kicked me.” No, I didn’t say that last part. I wanted to, because the doctor kept frowning at my mouth as if to say, “What’s going on there? Should I ask, or would that be rude? Probably rude.”
I had to sit Natalie in my lap and hug her arms against her chest as the doctor put the shots in her thigh.
Naturally, Natalie screamed….into my right ear, which immediately started to ring. By the time she moves out, I swear I’m going to be partially deaf. She’s made my ears ring more times than I can remember.
“All done!” the doctor called out and Natalie’s screeches immediately ceased. She glanced at the band-aids the doctor had left on her thighs.
“I like,” Natalie said, running her thumb across her band-aids with Charlie Brown on the front. It was like the shots never happened. A wide smile was across her face as she hopped down from the exam table.
“Can she have a lollipop?” the doctor asked me.
I nodded and Natalie squealed with delight as she picked a pink one.
“I like this place,” Natalie told me. She narrowed her eyes at the doctor. “I don’t like the shots though.”
We left after that and I let out a breath of relief as we stepped outside. We were done with shots. Hallelujah!
Until next year, that is.
I’ll make Tom bring her then.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!
I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.
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To cringe when people constantly sing The Climb at karaoke night or on those singing shows. It’s been overdone. There are many other songs to choose from.
To love the Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper. The real stuff, not the whole grain crap.
To not be surprised that Mariah Carey named her twins Moroccan and Monroe. Heaven forbid ‘celebrity’ babies are ever named something normal.
To say, “Did the person up front order the whole menu?” when the drive thru line takes forever to move.
To have exclaimed, “But there isn’t a TARGET in England!” when my husband first told me we were moving there. I survived the 3 years somehow.
To love the movie Beetlejuice. (Dayyy-ooooo!)
To feel strange when other wives whose husbands are in Korea say, “Oh, we talk for hours on Skype on his days off!” Tom and I usually talk 10 minutes. Sometimes 20. I’ve never been an extra chatty person. I tell him how things are, he tells me how things are, and then I say I’m going.
To still hate the term “staycation.” Just say, “I’m not going anywhere this summer.”
To wish I had an Italian friend who could make me all sorts of fabulous Italian dishes.
To wince when people shorten words into cutesy words. Such as, “Oh my gosh, you look ADORBS in that!” Or, “You look ridic!”
To still really be impressed with those extreme couponers but I’m sorry, I don’t have all that time to dedicate to buying a bunch of nail polish and Cheerios. I would do it for the laundry detergent. But one chick said she spends 60 hours a week couponing and has even cancelled plans to coupon. Um?
----------------------
To cringe when people constantly sing The Climb at karaoke night or on those singing shows. It’s been overdone. There are many other songs to choose from.
To love the Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper. The real stuff, not the whole grain crap.
To not be surprised that Mariah Carey named her twins Moroccan and Monroe. Heaven forbid ‘celebrity’ babies are ever named something normal.
To say, “Did the person up front order the whole menu?” when the drive thru line takes forever to move.
To have exclaimed, “But there isn’t a TARGET in England!” when my husband first told me we were moving there. I survived the 3 years somehow.
To love the movie Beetlejuice. (Dayyy-ooooo!)
To feel strange when other wives whose husbands are in Korea say, “Oh, we talk for hours on Skype on his days off!” Tom and I usually talk 10 minutes. Sometimes 20. I’ve never been an extra chatty person. I tell him how things are, he tells me how things are, and then I say I’m going.
To still hate the term “staycation.” Just say, “I’m not going anywhere this summer.”
To wish I had an Italian friend who could make me all sorts of fabulous Italian dishes.
To wince when people shorten words into cutesy words. Such as, “Oh my gosh, you look ADORBS in that!” Or, “You look ridic!”
To still really be impressed with those extreme couponers but I’m sorry, I don’t have all that time to dedicate to buying a bunch of nail polish and Cheerios. I would do it for the laundry detergent. But one chick said she spends 60 hours a week couponing and has even cancelled plans to coupon. Um?
Monday, May 9, 2011
Flowers and Pinafores
It started off lovely.
I woke up at 10 and the kids greeted me with big smiles across their faces.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” my son said and behind his back he had a bouquet of flowers.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” my daughter repeated, dressed in her adorable pinafore. She even did a little curtsy.
Are you buying any of this?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
My Mother’s Day started off like this:
I was in a deep sleep and then I heard an annoying Rummmmm Rummmmmm Rummmmmm sound.
I cracked open one eye and checked the clock. 758. I closed my eyes again. The good news is, I’ve trained my kids to let me sleep until 830 or 9.
Rummmmmmm Rummmmmmm Rummmmm
My eyes shot open again. What the hell? It sounded like someone was revving their motorcycle. Which is cool, but does that sort of thing have to be done at 758 on a Sunday?
Rummmmmmm Rummmmmmm Rummmmm
It was like the stupid thing was mocking me. I shoved the covers off of me and stomped over to the window. I opened it and shouted, “Hey! Shut up! It’s Mother’s Day for God’s sake!” Then I slammed the window and climbed back into bed.
Okay, so what I did might not have been much better. But really. Cut the noise until after 10 on weekends. It’s etiquette. Just because your kids wake you up at the crack of dawn doesn’t mean everyone else has to get up too.
Of course my kids heard me shouting so then I heard a tiny knock on the door.
“Mommy? It’s me, Natalie.”
Ugh.
Normally she stays in her room until I come and get her. But because she heard me yelling, she assumed it meant it was time for the day to begin.
“Mommy is sleeping,” I answered.
A pause.
“No, because you’re talking,” Natalie said primly. Then she opened the door, ran over to the bed and jumped on my face.
Rummmmm rummmmm rummmmmmm! Clearly, my shouting had done nothing to shut up the motorcycle guy. Or girl. Rude ass.
So I had to wake up. There was no getting back to sleep. I pushed Natalie’s butt off my nose and walked into Tommy’s room. He was hunched over a DS game.
“Hello,” I said. “Do you have anything to say to me?”
Tommy didn’t respond.
“HELLO?” I could have been doing the can can in my underwear and he wouldn’t have noticed.
Tommy glanced up. “Huh, what?” He seemed annoyed.
I threw my hands in the air. “Don’t you want to say anything to me?”
Tommy paused his game and surveyed me. “Nice, um, hair?”
Hair? What? My hair was standing on end since I had just woken up.
“It’s Mother’s Day,” I reminded him.
Tommy nodded. “I made you something.” He thundered down the stairs.
Natalie and I followed him as he dug through his backpack. He pulled out an envelope and handed it over.
I opened it and found this:
Aw. I loved it, typos and all.
He thanked me for letting him use my iPod. Which believe me, I don’t do often. Some things need to belong to me.
Natalie also gave me a card:
Tommy started to go back upstairs after that.
“Er, don’t I get breakfast?” I called out.
Tommy whirled around and seemed confused. “I can’t use the oven. You said if I tried that I’d set myself on fire and die.”
Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt. It’s just, I have this fear that Tommy will decide to cook and them BAM our house goes up in flames. This isn’t even our house either, it belongs to the Air Force, so I don’t even want to know what would happen if our house became a ball of fire.
“Can you find something that doesn’t need to be cooked?” I wondered and yawned. Ugh, I needed some caffeine. I rummaged through the fridge and pulled out a Vanilla Coke Zero. I cracked it open, tipped the beautiful contents in my mouth and instantly felt better. Ahhhh...that’s the stuff....
“I know what I can get you!” Tommy said triumphantly. He opened the cupboard, pulled stuff out, set them on a plate and placed it in front of me.
A plate full of Little Debbie snacks. He knows me well.
I woke up at 10 and the kids greeted me with big smiles across their faces.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” my son said and behind his back he had a bouquet of flowers.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” my daughter repeated, dressed in her adorable pinafore. She even did a little curtsy.
Are you buying any of this?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
My Mother’s Day started off like this:
I was in a deep sleep and then I heard an annoying Rummmmm Rummmmmm Rummmmmm sound.
I cracked open one eye and checked the clock. 758. I closed my eyes again. The good news is, I’ve trained my kids to let me sleep until 830 or 9.
Rummmmmmm Rummmmmmm Rummmmm
My eyes shot open again. What the hell? It sounded like someone was revving their motorcycle. Which is cool, but does that sort of thing have to be done at 758 on a Sunday?
Rummmmmmm Rummmmmmm Rummmmm
It was like the stupid thing was mocking me. I shoved the covers off of me and stomped over to the window. I opened it and shouted, “Hey! Shut up! It’s Mother’s Day for God’s sake!” Then I slammed the window and climbed back into bed.
Okay, so what I did might not have been much better. But really. Cut the noise until after 10 on weekends. It’s etiquette. Just because your kids wake you up at the crack of dawn doesn’t mean everyone else has to get up too.
Of course my kids heard me shouting so then I heard a tiny knock on the door.
“Mommy? It’s me, Natalie.”
Ugh.
Normally she stays in her room until I come and get her. But because she heard me yelling, she assumed it meant it was time for the day to begin.
“Mommy is sleeping,” I answered.
A pause.
“No, because you’re talking,” Natalie said primly. Then she opened the door, ran over to the bed and jumped on my face.
Rummmmm rummmmm rummmmmmm! Clearly, my shouting had done nothing to shut up the motorcycle guy. Or girl. Rude ass.
So I had to wake up. There was no getting back to sleep. I pushed Natalie’s butt off my nose and walked into Tommy’s room. He was hunched over a DS game.
“Hello,” I said. “Do you have anything to say to me?”
Tommy didn’t respond.
“HELLO?” I could have been doing the can can in my underwear and he wouldn’t have noticed.
Tommy glanced up. “Huh, what?” He seemed annoyed.
I threw my hands in the air. “Don’t you want to say anything to me?”
Tommy paused his game and surveyed me. “Nice, um, hair?”
Hair? What? My hair was standing on end since I had just woken up.
“It’s Mother’s Day,” I reminded him.
Tommy nodded. “I made you something.” He thundered down the stairs.
Natalie and I followed him as he dug through his backpack. He pulled out an envelope and handed it over.
I opened it and found this:
Aw. I loved it, typos and all.
He thanked me for letting him use my iPod. Which believe me, I don’t do often. Some things need to belong to me.
Natalie also gave me a card:
Tommy started to go back upstairs after that.
“Er, don’t I get breakfast?” I called out.
Tommy whirled around and seemed confused. “I can’t use the oven. You said if I tried that I’d set myself on fire and die.”
Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt. It’s just, I have this fear that Tommy will decide to cook and them BAM our house goes up in flames. This isn’t even our house either, it belongs to the Air Force, so I don’t even want to know what would happen if our house became a ball of fire.
“Can you find something that doesn’t need to be cooked?” I wondered and yawned. Ugh, I needed some caffeine. I rummaged through the fridge and pulled out a Vanilla Coke Zero. I cracked it open, tipped the beautiful contents in my mouth and instantly felt better. Ahhhh...that’s the stuff....
“I know what I can get you!” Tommy said triumphantly. He opened the cupboard, pulled stuff out, set them on a plate and placed it in front of me.
A plate full of Little Debbie snacks. He knows me well.
Friday, May 6, 2011
What I'd Like For Mother Day...
So.
Mother’s Day is Sunday.
I decided to write a post where I list the things that I’d like on that day.
Do I think they’ll happen?
Probably not.
Still.
It’s nice to dream.....
I’d like....my kids to sleep in until noon. It’s been ages since I’ve slept in until noon. I can barely remember what it’s like.
I’d like...for Natalie to stop handing me her boogers. I don’t want them.
I’d like...my kids to not be so picky at dinner. It’s beef stew for craps sake, not dirt. I don’t appreciate Tommy gagging or Natalie shouting, “This beef looks like poop!” JUST EAT IT!
I’d like...for Tommy to stop talking about forceps and babies being pushed from vaginas in public.
I’d like...to not have to read Snow White to Natalie anymore. I’d over the irritating chick with the strange voice.
I’d like...to hide Natalie’s creepy Yo Gabba Gabba toys. I don’t like the way Muno (the one that looks like a diseased penis) stares at me with his one eye.
I’d like...to be able to read a book in two days like I used to. Instead it takes me two weeks, sometimes two months, because Natalie thinks it’s funny to take it from me.
I’d like...to have something that belongs to ME. Natalie got a hold of my iPod Touch and now her sticky fingerprints are all over the screen. I’m sorry, but it’s MINE.
I’d like...for Nick Jr to put on some new episodes of Wonder Pets. If I have to see the one with the bee on more time, I fear I might scream.
I’d like...to shop in peace, without someone begging for a toy or having a meltdown over cheese.
I’d like...to have things that aren’t stained or broken. My poor couch has been abused so much over the years. I don’t even want to talk about my table…
I’d like...to be able to use the bathroom in peace. I don’t need Natalie to observe me. I don’t need Tommy asking me things from the other side of the door. Can’t it WAIT?
I’d like...calories to not count on Mother’s Day. What? A girl can hope...
Mother’s Day is Sunday.
I decided to write a post where I list the things that I’d like on that day.
Do I think they’ll happen?
Probably not.
Still.
It’s nice to dream.....
I’d like....my kids to sleep in until noon. It’s been ages since I’ve slept in until noon. I can barely remember what it’s like.
I’d like...for Natalie to stop handing me her boogers. I don’t want them.
I’d like...my kids to not be so picky at dinner. It’s beef stew for craps sake, not dirt. I don’t appreciate Tommy gagging or Natalie shouting, “This beef looks like poop!” JUST EAT IT!
I’d like...for Tommy to stop talking about forceps and babies being pushed from vaginas in public.
I’d like...to not have to read Snow White to Natalie anymore. I’d over the irritating chick with the strange voice.
I’d like...to hide Natalie’s creepy Yo Gabba Gabba toys. I don’t like the way Muno (the one that looks like a diseased penis) stares at me with his one eye.
I’d like...to be able to read a book in two days like I used to. Instead it takes me two weeks, sometimes two months, because Natalie thinks it’s funny to take it from me.
I’d like...to have something that belongs to ME. Natalie got a hold of my iPod Touch and now her sticky fingerprints are all over the screen. I’m sorry, but it’s MINE.
I’d like...for Nick Jr to put on some new episodes of Wonder Pets. If I have to see the one with the bee on more time, I fear I might scream.
I’d like...to shop in peace, without someone begging for a toy or having a meltdown over cheese.
I’d like...to have things that aren’t stained or broken. My poor couch has been abused so much over the years. I don’t even want to talk about my table…
I’d like...to be able to use the bathroom in peace. I don’t need Natalie to observe me. I don’t need Tommy asking me things from the other side of the door. Can’t it WAIT?
I’d like...calories to not count on Mother’s Day. What? A girl can hope...
Thursday, May 5, 2011
My Son Kanye
“Hey, Kanye, what’s with the shades?” I asked Tommy.
Why did I ask him this?
Well, because he’s been coming to the dinner table with these on:
He says it’s because he’s cool now.
I’m unsure what this means.
Was he not cool before?
At least he has better manners than Kanye.....
Why did I ask him this?
Well, because he’s been coming to the dinner table with these on:
He says it’s because he’s cool now.
I’m unsure what this means.
Was he not cool before?
At least he has better manners than Kanye.....
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
25 Things About Me
US Weekly does this thing where they ask a celebrity to list 25 things about them. I decided to steal the idea even though I’m not as interesting as a celebrity. Still. I thought it would be fun. (And okay, because I have nothing else to write about today)
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1. I spill something on me at least once per day. I am not a neat eater.
2. My Mom retired as Colonel in the Air Force. She’s one of my role models.
3. My Dad stayed home with me as I grew up. It wasn’t as normal for men to stay home with kids back then. He’s also a role model.
4. I can’t dance. I try, but it turns out I have no rhythm.
5. I met my best friend Jennifer when our husbands were both stationed in England. She lived right across the street from me. It was fabulous.
6. Lost is one of my favorite TV shows.
7. I like to have cake or cookies for breakfast. I feel if you eat that stuff early, you can burn it all off throughout the day.
8. I started writing stories when I was about 10. Those stories mainly were about large families.
9. I’m an only child, which is why I always loved the idea of large families.
10. I never babysat as a teenager which is why I seriously had no idea what I was doing when my son was born.
11. I tried to take a Lamaze class but I couldn’t take all the breathing sounds seriously so I dropped out.
12. I can’t do Yoga. I’ve tried, but all the chanting and the different positions make me giggle. And once, when a lady bent over, she farted and no one even reacted except me. It was like being in a room with bendy robots who didn’t laugh over farts.
13. I basically wear my Sketcher Shape Ups with everything.
14. I only have 5 pairs of shoes. I’m missing the shoe loving gene most women have.
15. This could be because I can’t walk in heels. I’ve been known to crash into things when I have them on.
16. I kicked ass in Mario Kart for the Nintendo 64. I could beat any guy, including my husband, who would pout and claim I was cheating.
17. I wish I could put things together without the help of a man. I just wasn’t blessed with the ability. I really try though because I hate the whole “woe is me, I need a man,” bit.
18. I can only dog paddle in the pool. My son, who is 9, swims better than me.
19. I hate putting my head under the water in the pool. It’s not because I’m worried about my hair, it’s because I’m worried I’ll, you know, die.
20. I’d love to have my breasts enlarged at some point—not so I can look like Barbie, but so I won’t look flat-chested when I’m laying down. I’m a 34 A and would like a 34 B.
21. I love the movie Labyrinth. I can sing all the songs. My kids would prefer I didn’t.
22. I’d like to go to Prince Edward Island one day. Anne of Green Gables made it look so beautiful.
23. Some women ask how I handle my husband being gone all the time. I suppose since I was an only child, I don’t mind being alone.
24. In high school I dragged my then boyfriend to see Titanic 5 times. I still feel bad about that.
25. I know women say this and don’t truly mean it, but I look for a sense of a humor in a guy BEFORE looks. If a guy can make me laugh, I’m intrigued.
-------------------
1. I spill something on me at least once per day. I am not a neat eater.
2. My Mom retired as Colonel in the Air Force. She’s one of my role models.
3. My Dad stayed home with me as I grew up. It wasn’t as normal for men to stay home with kids back then. He’s also a role model.
4. I can’t dance. I try, but it turns out I have no rhythm.
5. I met my best friend Jennifer when our husbands were both stationed in England. She lived right across the street from me. It was fabulous.
6. Lost is one of my favorite TV shows.
7. I like to have cake or cookies for breakfast. I feel if you eat that stuff early, you can burn it all off throughout the day.
8. I started writing stories when I was about 10. Those stories mainly were about large families.
9. I’m an only child, which is why I always loved the idea of large families.
10. I never babysat as a teenager which is why I seriously had no idea what I was doing when my son was born.
11. I tried to take a Lamaze class but I couldn’t take all the breathing sounds seriously so I dropped out.
12. I can’t do Yoga. I’ve tried, but all the chanting and the different positions make me giggle. And once, when a lady bent over, she farted and no one even reacted except me. It was like being in a room with bendy robots who didn’t laugh over farts.
13. I basically wear my Sketcher Shape Ups with everything.
14. I only have 5 pairs of shoes. I’m missing the shoe loving gene most women have.
15. This could be because I can’t walk in heels. I’ve been known to crash into things when I have them on.
16. I kicked ass in Mario Kart for the Nintendo 64. I could beat any guy, including my husband, who would pout and claim I was cheating.
17. I wish I could put things together without the help of a man. I just wasn’t blessed with the ability. I really try though because I hate the whole “woe is me, I need a man,” bit.
18. I can only dog paddle in the pool. My son, who is 9, swims better than me.
19. I hate putting my head under the water in the pool. It’s not because I’m worried about my hair, it’s because I’m worried I’ll, you know, die.
20. I’d love to have my breasts enlarged at some point—not so I can look like Barbie, but so I won’t look flat-chested when I’m laying down. I’m a 34 A and would like a 34 B.
21. I love the movie Labyrinth. I can sing all the songs. My kids would prefer I didn’t.
22. I’d like to go to Prince Edward Island one day. Anne of Green Gables made it look so beautiful.
23. Some women ask how I handle my husband being gone all the time. I suppose since I was an only child, I don’t mind being alone.
24. In high school I dragged my then boyfriend to see Titanic 5 times. I still feel bad about that.
25. I know women say this and don’t truly mean it, but I look for a sense of a humor in a guy BEFORE looks. If a guy can make me laugh, I’m intrigued.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!
I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.
----------------------
To be bummed that I can’t get an iPhone 4. See, I upgraded my phone about a year ago so if I want the $199 price, I have to wait until I upgrade again. Otherwise it’s $600. And I don’t poop out money so it’s a no go…boo…I can get one in April 2012.
To have really enjoyed The King’s Speech. I highly recommend it. That’s the type of royal story I’ll gladly watch.
To wonder why Kate Gosselin still has a show.
To like the idea of pajama jeans (comfort!) but I will never wear them out in public. Unless it’s really early in the morning since I’m not totally alert. I could spot the pajama jeans and be all, “Pants!”
To miss Gilmore Girls. There really aren’t a lot of funny shows like that one. I do like Cougar Town though. And Happy Endings has been making me chuckle.
To love popping in Sleepless in Seattle when I’m in the mood for a feel good movie.
To have stocked up on Cadbury Crème Eggs when they went 50% off. I currently have 10 in my drawer.
To love restaurant rolls. The ones at Texas Roadhouse? Fantastic. Red Lobster? Yum.
To be tempted to get a waffle maker.
To have given my children’s teachers a small gift (think chocolate, candles…) in honor of Teacher Appreciation Week. If you can’t afford a gift, perhaps have your child write a thank you note to their teacher? If you homeschool, buy yourself some chocolate for a job well done ;)
----------------------
To be bummed that I can’t get an iPhone 4. See, I upgraded my phone about a year ago so if I want the $199 price, I have to wait until I upgrade again. Otherwise it’s $600. And I don’t poop out money so it’s a no go…boo…I can get one in April 2012.
To have really enjoyed The King’s Speech. I highly recommend it. That’s the type of royal story I’ll gladly watch.
To wonder why Kate Gosselin still has a show.
To like the idea of pajama jeans (comfort!) but I will never wear them out in public. Unless it’s really early in the morning since I’m not totally alert. I could spot the pajama jeans and be all, “Pants!”
To miss Gilmore Girls. There really aren’t a lot of funny shows like that one. I do like Cougar Town though. And Happy Endings has been making me chuckle.
To love popping in Sleepless in Seattle when I’m in the mood for a feel good movie.
To have stocked up on Cadbury Crème Eggs when they went 50% off. I currently have 10 in my drawer.
To love restaurant rolls. The ones at Texas Roadhouse? Fantastic. Red Lobster? Yum.
To be tempted to get a waffle maker.
To have given my children’s teachers a small gift (think chocolate, candles…) in honor of Teacher Appreciation Week. If you can’t afford a gift, perhaps have your child write a thank you note to their teacher? If you homeschool, buy yourself some chocolate for a job well done ;)
Monday, May 2, 2011
Thank You, Military Troops
I was on the couch last night, watching the fight between Nene and Star Jones.
I was thinking, “Why do I watch this nonsense?” I had on Celebrity Apprentice and Nene was in Star’s face, shouting something about....honestly, I wasn’t sure.
On the lower half of my screen I noticed the message:
“President Obama is due to speak shortly....”
I lump immediately formed in my throat.
And then, weirdly, I thought, “Aliens?” I’ve always believed that we couldn’t possibly be alone.
A cold chill went down my back. If it were aliens, I was going to grab the kids and run to the neighbor’s house. I was going to say, “Hello, hi, aliens are coming down and I refuse to be alone. Can I sleep with you?”
I started to chew on my fingernail. It’s a bad habit, I know, but I do it when I’m nervous. And I was nervous. I couldn’t even focus on Celebrity Apprentice. They were talking about hair. Or something.
Then the special news report popped on. I sat up on the couch, waiting.
And then I saw it…
Osama Bin Laden was dead.
Dead.
Ding dong the ass is dead.
It took me a few seconds to register this. He was gone....dead....
“Osama is dead!” I shouted to no one. I wished my husband was there to celebrate with. I ran upstairs to Tommy, who was almost asleep.
“Tommy,” I said, sticking my face in his. “Tommy, the bad guy is dead!”
Tommy knows bits and pieces on what happened during 9/11.
“What?” he grumbled, pulling the covers over his head.
“The bad guy is dead!”
Tommy slowly peeked out. “What bad guy?”
“Osama Bin Laden!”
Tommy still looked baffled. “Who is that?”
I had to speak so he could understand. “He was….sort of like who the Joker was in Batman. He was the bad guy. And everyone was searching for him and finally, we got him. Well, the troops got him which proves they deserve a raise.”
Tommy’s eyes lit up with understanding. “So the joker is dead?”
“Well, he was a complete ass like the joker. I’m sorry, don’t repeat that tomorrow. But it’s a wonderful day, Tommy. You’ll remember this for the rest of your life, I promise you!”
I rushed back downstairs and got on Facebook. Basically everyone was talking about Bin Laden’s death. I chimed in a few times on status updates. I thought about what Tom must be feeling in Korea. Were they celebrating over there? Probably.
Someone on the forum I write at summed it up perfectly:
“The girl married her Prince. The bad guy is dead. It’s a real Disney weekend here on Earth.”
Thank you, military troops.
I was thinking, “Why do I watch this nonsense?” I had on Celebrity Apprentice and Nene was in Star’s face, shouting something about....honestly, I wasn’t sure.
On the lower half of my screen I noticed the message:
“President Obama is due to speak shortly....”
I lump immediately formed in my throat.
And then, weirdly, I thought, “Aliens?” I’ve always believed that we couldn’t possibly be alone.
A cold chill went down my back. If it were aliens, I was going to grab the kids and run to the neighbor’s house. I was going to say, “Hello, hi, aliens are coming down and I refuse to be alone. Can I sleep with you?”
I started to chew on my fingernail. It’s a bad habit, I know, but I do it when I’m nervous. And I was nervous. I couldn’t even focus on Celebrity Apprentice. They were talking about hair. Or something.
Then the special news report popped on. I sat up on the couch, waiting.
And then I saw it…
Osama Bin Laden was dead.
Dead.
Ding dong the ass is dead.
It took me a few seconds to register this. He was gone....dead....
“Osama is dead!” I shouted to no one. I wished my husband was there to celebrate with. I ran upstairs to Tommy, who was almost asleep.
“Tommy,” I said, sticking my face in his. “Tommy, the bad guy is dead!”
Tommy knows bits and pieces on what happened during 9/11.
“What?” he grumbled, pulling the covers over his head.
“The bad guy is dead!”
Tommy slowly peeked out. “What bad guy?”
“Osama Bin Laden!”
Tommy still looked baffled. “Who is that?”
I had to speak so he could understand. “He was….sort of like who the Joker was in Batman. He was the bad guy. And everyone was searching for him and finally, we got him. Well, the troops got him which proves they deserve a raise.”
Tommy’s eyes lit up with understanding. “So the joker is dead?”
“Well, he was a complete ass like the joker. I’m sorry, don’t repeat that tomorrow. But it’s a wonderful day, Tommy. You’ll remember this for the rest of your life, I promise you!”
I rushed back downstairs and got on Facebook. Basically everyone was talking about Bin Laden’s death. I chimed in a few times on status updates. I thought about what Tom must be feeling in Korea. Were they celebrating over there? Probably.
Someone on the forum I write at summed it up perfectly:
“The girl married her Prince. The bad guy is dead. It’s a real Disney weekend here on Earth.”
Thank you, military troops.
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