swedish fish and the eff word

This is my anniversary week. On Friday we celebrate 16 years of marital bliss. And it has been bliss. I have been the luckiest in love in the history of people feeling lucky in love. Our marriage has been easy.

Easy peasey, I say.

He isn't the most romantic guy I've ever met, although he seduced me with pretend romance whilst dating. Mean trick. Not nice. Roses weekly until marriage and then poof...... nothing.

No love letters, not like my ex-boyfriend. He wrote me love letters. Left them around and such. Even stomped a little love in the snow for me to read on my way to the car.

The man does sometimes whisper sweet nothings. I like sweet nothings.

He likes to make bets. As inappropriate as they may be on occasion. He thinks I'm wrong about stuff and when I'm right he says "you were right. You are always right."

He's right.

A few weeks ago we took Holden to see Thor for his treat night. Thor is rated PG-13 which means it CAN have one F word. The man asked on the way what it was rated, I told him, he said it would have an F word and I said it would not.

The convo went a little something like this.

me: "It's rated PG-13."

him: "Well then it has an F word in it. We shouldn't take Holden" (Holden is 8)

me: "That just means it can have one F word. Thor won't have an F word because it's sort of a kids movie. Plus, they didn't say the F word back in the olden days."

The olden days of Thor.

him: "Then why would it be rated PG-13?"

me: "Cause, it's got fighting and stuff....."

him: "Nuh uh. It's got an F word."

me: "No, it doesn't. That's ridiculous."

This went on in this fashion until he said: "Wanna make a bet?"

me: "yep." Sometimes I get cocky.

I won't divulge here what he wanted if he won the bet. Like I said, inappropriate. I think deep down he knows he's wrong so he goes down fighting.

Me, on the other hand, I'm no fool. I asked for dinner made and cleaned up the next day. The menu had already been shopped for and planned, and it was fancy.

So, did Thor have an F word?

Nope. No siree bob. It did not have an F word and I ate well the next day, thank you very much!

The three of us snacked on these during Thor........



which just so happen to be the man's favourite treat. And just so you know, the only fish I'll eat.

another random thursday think

It's Thursday, right?

As I ponder what to write about my anxiety ridden mind can't settle on any one thing. A plethora of thoughts crowd my mind and I wonder, as I have for days now, what is wrong with me. Yesterday I mentioned on facebook that I was feeling crummy when a friend mentioned that she was as well. Then another friend suggested I go get my hormones checked since I'm getting OLDer now it is quite possible that my body is telling me something. And she's right because if anyones body is going to tell them something via annoying physical ailments, it'll be mine.

Yes it will.

I thought about this for some time. I thought maybe I should go see my doctor who happened to change her name at the same time she changed locations. Interesting. I haven't seen her in at least 18 months. It might just be time to shoot the breeze with Joan. And maybe mention that I want her to find my mojo and return it to me.

Plus, I need a pap smear. Was that uncalled for?

So I made an appointment for next Tuesday. The receptionist asked me where I've been and I said I've been healthy. She said it would be good to see me again. And then I thought to myself why oh why do they know me so well when I frequent their establishment but once every two years? Anyway......

Last night as I was getting ready for bed and entertaining thoughts as to whether or not to tell the man I think I'm dying of a mood altering cancer it occurred to me to check the calendar. So I did.

10 days until youknowwhat comes to town.

Nope, not talking about it.

But all of a sudden it all makes sense. Out come the happy pills. Give me a couple of days. Good thing I figured it out though because the shudders of anxiety I experienced at 4 this morning would have scared me to death.

So yesterday when I went to pick up Amelia, the teacher asked me to stay and have a chat for a bit.

Uh oh..... What on earth has my perfect kinder done now? (kinder, as in kindergarten student. Not kinder, as in nicer than me)

Apparently, she refuses to do her "must-do" work. She has no problem getting into play time. Well, duh. But must do stuff? No way, no how, she ain't doin' it.



Nuh uh, this little piece of perfection? I'm not buying it!

Yes I am. I'm totally buying it. After this little meeting I felt inspired to call the man and inform him that his last spawn has created a meeting with the powers that be in regards to her kinder performance and that he should be so proud that his unique kinder hating gene has been passed successfully into at least one of our children.

He laughed. Naturally.....

While I was writing this a giant thump was heard at my window. So giant was it that I jumped and may have said a less than good word. I went to the window in fear of what I would see and low and behold my fears were justified. A little birdie lay twitching on the earth.

What came next I won't say because I am less than proud of how I carried on. But by the time I got my camera and returned it looked like this:



He seems to have pulled himself together somewhat. However, he is still there.

I have to read The Forgotten Garden for book club this month and I was waiting, sort of impatient-like, for it to come into the library. Last Saturday, whilst I was perusing the book aisle at Costco with the man during our little stay-cation, I saw it and for $9.99 I thought my waiting could be over if I just purchased it. So I did.

It came into the library today.

Of course it did.

So today I finish The Lonely Polygamist which I loved loved loved despite the fact that it gave me horrible polygamy dreams. I will start The Forgotten Garden, which I now own, and it will most likely take me a million months to read because my mojo died and I have lost my love of putting forth any amount of energy that might exceed the amount required to watch Friday Night Lights and drink Diet Pepsi.

That blasted bird is still there...... I wish Rhonda was here. She'd know what to do and then she'd probably do it for me.

the skinny on stay-cations

Mon May 30 4.1 on couch to 10k program = 4.06 miles
Tues May 31 35 min powerwalk 1.88 miles
Wed June 1 4.2 on couch to 10k = 3.05 miles


So here's the problem. I'm an idiot. I let sugar sweet talk me. It beguiled me with its wicked ways. Day after day it was slipping in through the crack between my lips. A little here, a little there. I was sleeping great but everyday was a gamble and everyday I took the bet. For whatever reason I allowed the gambling to continue knowing full well the gambler is an addict.

I should be arrested and thrown into the sugar enabling clink!

I was getting my exercise in last week and feeling a little off kilter. I wasn't eating well and therefore felt the need to exercise like crazy but I was feeling icky so it was hard. A vicious cycle, you know? I knew it was because I forgot what fruit was but remembered all to well who the cookie was. And the cupcake. Tuesday night I woke just after 4 and tossed and turned. Uh oh, I thought. Get it together you moron, before it's too late. Wednesday I ate lots of sugar. Why?? Well now.... that is just a really superb question.

Wednesday night I woke at 4:08 and did not go back to sleep at all. Thursday I ate 2 Crave cupcakes. What is wrong with me?Thursday night I took 4 melatonin and went to sleep. I woke at 2:30 am and was done for. "No more sleep for you!" (that was for all you Seinfeld lovers and I clearly changed a word.....)

Anyway, Friday I was down right ticked off at myself so I quit the sugar right then and there. I didn't want to though because it was the beginning of the man's and my little stay-cation. You know..... where I ship the kids off for 48 hours and enjoy my own home with my own man. It was just like being newlyweds only better.

* wink wink *

I wanted to eat sugar all weekend, which is why I didn't bother giving it up during the past week. And then I had to decide if I wanted to eat garbage or sleep.

No brainer. Apparently, after being awake for 24 hours this is a no brainer. Until then, though, I can't make this decision to save my life.... or my sleep.

Hi, my name is Catherine and today I celebrate 3 days sugar sober.

I finally just stopped hearing my heart beating last night. And I slept. My heart really hates the sugar. Really really despises it.

I have googled and googled and googled some more anything I can find out about sugar and insomnia. I have been only slightly satisfied with what I have found. It just doesn't seem real to me. It doesn't seem possible that anyone can have such a delicate reaction to sugar. I feel l like I might be making it up. And then I eat it for days on end and I stop sleeping. I definitely am not making that up at 4 o'clock in the morning.

Dear sugar,

I can't see you anymore. It isn't you, it's me. Actually it's you and me. We are no good together.

Yours sadly,

Catherine

It is a very wretched thing. (If I didn't have a thing against sideways punctuation faces I would insert the sideways sad face right here.)

Good bye old friend.

Oh............ and stay-cations are the B.O.M.B!

'nuff said. (sideways winky face)

a random thursday think

Just a couple of items of business on this Thursday morning. No biggie or anything.

- it has been brought to my attention that this month twenty years ago I graduated from high school. It seems to me that the math on this is just simply wrong. There is no way it has been 20 years. There is just. no. way.

- my children are going away tomorrow for two sleeps to their auntie's house. I do not know why, but my level of excitement over this equals that only to a trip to disneyland.

- I went to my last kindergarten butterfly celebration yesterday. I seriously do not understand what genetic makeup would be required for a person to want to teach kindergarten. Five years olds are cute, no question. But 55 five year olds fighting over who gets to let the butterflies go and who gets the orange popsicles is not cute. Knowwhatimean?

My 5 year old is cute though. Seriously cute.









This is the flower she planted her 'very own self'. They asked Walmart to donate each one of them a flower so they could give the butterflies somewhere beautiful to live. She was very proud of her little fleur.








and finally........... sweetness.



We are almost done with kindergarten forever. Sigh......

by that rationale.....

The man has a couple of quirks that if I had the power to change I probably would. He thinks I'm perfect though so I tend to keep my irritations to myself.

Except for the time when we were dating and he would wear these super ugly snake skin cowboy boots. I actually thought to myself that I could not date a guy who dug those boots. I thought long and hard about whether to tell him or not. Then one day out of the blue he says to me "Do you like my boots?" To which I coyly answered, "no."

He never wore them again. Love.

We still have them though and every now and then he pulls them out and threatens to take me out on the town.

Twice, while we were dating, he slicked his hair back and I didn't..... ummm, really...... ummmm.....care for it. Actually, I hated it. Of course, I would never say anything.

Unless asked.

"Hey, do you like my hair this way?"

"Uhhhh.....no, not really."

He's almost bald now, and keeps his hair really really short, which is super sexy so it's a win win. He doesn't think it's a win win. He thinks it's the end of the world. But since I think he's so darn good lookin' he should consider that a win win. Right? Wink wink.

Once I asked him if I do anything he absolutely hated and he said "No."

Good boy.

He does this thing now, it's sort of new. I don't really mind it because it entertains me. I am concerned, though, about his level of delusion while he's doing it.

It goes something like this. I say something perfectly sensical and reasonable and rational. He comments in return with something completely nonsensical, unreasonable and/or irrational. And it always starts with "by that rationale......"

For example, I say, "Honey, when you clean the kitchen, wiping the counters with a wet cloth is sort of part of the deal. It goes hand in hand. The kitchen is not clean until the counters are washed."

To which he responds, "Well, by that rationale...... I may as well take my toothbrush out and clean the entire world until it's shiny and new."

Or here's another example, "Honey, I would love love love it if you would please build a little tiny porch-like deck in the front of our house. It will only take a couple of hours and it would hardly cost any money."

His response sounds something like this: "Well, by that rationale, since I have all this free time on my hands, I may as well rip out the front lawn and driveway and pour all new concrete. That'll only take a couple of hours and a few bucks as well."

He often compares his life to mine. Or maybe it's me comparing mine to his. Yeah, that's probably more like it. But when I say anything along the lines of me needing a night out with some girlies because I work hard at home and spend a good chunk of my day talking to short people who make no sense most of the time and therefore, I deserve it, he responds with something like this: "I work hard too, so by that rationale I should be allowed to go out every single night."

Yes, my love, you work 30 times harder than I do, at least, so by that rationale, you are right.

By this point in any conversation with the man where rationale-izing has been involved, I am bewildered. So I just tilt my head to the side, furrow my cute brow, give my head a little shake and carry on my way.

****************

Tomorrow is June first, which means....... time for a new goal. I thought it might be time to work on my spiritual side. With all this goal making going on over here I feel like my little spirit is getting left in the dust. It's lacking, to say the least. So I thought I would set a goal to read my scriptures every single day. And then I thought.....

'by that rationale' I may as well read the entire Book of Mormon.

So that is what I'm doing. The entire book in 30 days. I've never done that before. It'll definitely impede all the novel reading I do but it'll be worth it. If you want to join me let me know and we'll do it together!

the nonexistent skinny

You know how many times I broke a sweat this week?

ZERO.

That's right. You read that right. I did not work out at all.

Let's psycho analyze, shall we?

At first I thought I was coming down with something. My head was killing me. My stomach hurt. I felt exhausted beyond words. Diet Pepsi tasted bad. What the, huh??

Yes, I couldn't get it down.

The only time this has ever happened to me is when I'm pregnant.

So...... guess what?


I'm not pregnant. Sorry mum if that gave you a heart attack. Going back to the reasons I was a loaf this week. Oh yeah, here's one. I got my period and it was brutal. Honestly, I thought I was sick, like ill, like with the flu or something, because I was suff.er.ing.

Anyway, things got better in that area and I was still feeling poorly. People said it was the weather. I still think I had a bug though because since when does a little rain make one want to curl up in a ball and die in a corner all alone?

Since it makes the roof leak into bedrooms and into the basement. That's when.

So the man fixed that as much as possible without actually ripping it off and putting on a new one. New leaks are popping up all over the place and I am hoping all this rain will help the money tree I planted in the back yard grow real fast like. The weeds are going strong and are almost as tall as me so I am hopeful the tree will start to produce real soon like. You know?

Back to the no sweating thing. I finished all five seasons of Friday Night Lights last weekend so I thought maybe my desperate depression was induced by this fact and it may be the reason I don't wander into where the treadmill is anymore. I still think this has something to do with it but I would never admit that because that is pathetic.

I started watching it again. Sort of..... Don't tell the man.

I did not just say that out loud.

I feel like a camel. And the universe is delicately placing things on my back trying earnestly to find the straw that will break it. I am tough though, with a really strong back so there is a lot balancing going on upon my one hump wonder.

I don't want a broken back so I hide out on occasion in the hopes that the universe can't locate me to put one more leak or one more bill or one more broken truck or broken truck related thingie or one more field trip that costs $200 on my back. Something has to give.

This week it was the exercise and a few of the stupid rules. Man, those rules. Whose idea was that?

Regret hasn't hit me yet. I don't feel bad about not working out. I'm not lying when I said something had to give. I mean, honestly people, I had to go to Superstore this week. What more do you want from me?

In the meantime, I am hunkered down over here, with a crashing headache that I am blaming wonky barometric pressure for (is that even possible?) with my fingers crossed that the rain will stop ruining my drywall and that the one butt who fits my house will come over soon and witness it's awesomeness, despite the water stains which I will attempt to fix this week when they've dried up, and that the kids will stop asking me, real soon like, when we are moving.

You know?

bruce

Amelia messed with the computer a few days ago and every time we went to use it a strange robotic man with a deep booming voice would repeat back to us our every move. He repeated every. single. thing. we. did.

It was super obnoxious.

The man did that thing. That thing where he said, all tough-like "she is never allowed on the computer again!" And I did that thing. That thing where I agreed with him knowing perfectly well she would be back on in no time flat.

It was really annoying though, the man wasn't wrong about that.

Through further investigation which involved a lot of clicking on stuff and reading stuff and not understanding stuff and then experimenting with different key combinations and stuff we discovered that the computer man's name was Bruce.

I am still baffled that this maddening voice has a name. He isn't even real, yet he has a name.

My mum is from Australia and she told me that whenever there was an uber irritating dolt of a guy around the young female Aussie's called him a 'bruce'.

For example:

Him to her: "Hey pretty lady. You wanna go out with me sometime and grab a soda pop?"

Her to him: "Um, no thanks.

Her to her friends: "Ugh, what a bruce."

Get it?

So, after all is said and done Bruce is no longer yelling at me from my computer screen. It's a good thing too, because he was seriously grinding on my nerves.

What a bruce.

As my kids grow I am constantly amazed at how much of their father I see in each one of them. Take Amelia, for example, she hates kindergarten. Her father hated kindergarten. It was recommended to the man's mother that he repeat kindergarten because he wouldn't get out of the sand box and he was always grumpy. His mom said that when he graduated from high school he was still wanting to be in the sand box. And he was still grumpy.

Holden loves Star Wars, like his dad.

Cicely loves to read the same book over and over and watch the same movie over and over. Just like her dad.

And then there's Jack. He takes a simple instruction and puts a twist on it that no other rational person could have possibly imagined. Unless that person is perhaps his dad.

The other day I asked Jack to please stock all the bathrooms with toilet paper. I never thought he would have interpreted it the way he did. If I had thought he was going to interpret it the way he ultimately interpreted it I would have been more specific, I guess. I just didn't think it was necessary to be more specific since I figured it could only be done one way. Ultimately, I was wrong and apparently there was more than one interpretation.



He even put a little decorative gorilla figurine on top. You know, to showcase it. Now we can say it is 'staged' for a showing.

And now I must train Jack to think like a woman/mother would think. It's only taken 16 years to get the man to think how I would think so I guess I have lots to look forward too.

And, I'm sure the bruce part of this post has nothing to do with the toilet paper part of this post.

At least....... I think I am?