Giddy as a School Girl

I left off my last entry with a promise to update on what progress I made on my chore list this past weekend. I know, I'm slow but bear with me. The answer: not a whole lot. And I'm perfectly okay with that. The tall, dark and handsome gentleman I'm blessed enough to be married to took me out on a date. Yay! No kids, no worries... just me and him. Our evening got off to a fantastic start when we ate at Outback for $11, 20% tip included (thanks to a $25 gift card). For those of you that aren't familiar with me, saving money makes me a very happy girl. Afterward, we did a little shopping and then went to the movies to watch "Salt" - this is a great movie, by the way. The night was still young so we ended the night with a fun game of bowling. Because what's not fun about laughing at your wife that totally sucks at bowling, right?

We slept in Saturday morning and then enjoyed a homemade breakfast of French toast, bacon and scrambled eggs before heading for a workout at our local YMCA. We ate lunch at Subway and enjoyed a movie at home later that evening while fine dining on delivery pizza. It wasn't the healthiest of weekends but that's okay because having the weekend as a reminder of why we're in this thing together to begin with made it completely worth the extra carbs and calories. It's so easy to get caught up in the day to day hustle and bustle of getting kids where they need to be, work schedules, homework, dinner, pointing fingers (that's YOUR kid because MY kid wouldn't do that), baths and bed time. As my friends like to point out, I'm a lucky girl and knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with this man makes me happy. It makes me almost look forwards to getting old. I said almost...

For the record, I did get the kids' rooms cleaned and purged a massive amount of toys (if you see my daughter, you know nothing). I'll save the border removal - which is going to be a PAIN; I tested the corner of my son's room and it was stuck on, stuck like glue - and painting for another weekend. Maybe that can be a family project. Haha! I crack myself up.

Thank the good Lord for Grandparents!

From this day through the entire weekend, I am childless. Both of my children out of town with their grandparents and I am not quite sure what to do with myself. I’m like a kid in a candy store just thinking about the possibilities. There are about five bajillion projects I would like to tackle but realistically, I would be happy if I could cross just two off the list. What can I say? I am a chronic over-scheduler. It’s what I do. I do it at work, I do it at home… if there was a twelve step program for it, I would put signing up for it on my list of things to do. Ha!

The first thing I need to do is clean out my daughter’s room. That’s absolutely at the top of the list. Ms. Priss has an overabundance of toys she absolutely cannot live without even though she hardly ever touches them. (She's always been more of a play with the remote and mommy's makeup kind of girl.) She’s the same way with clothing and shoes she’s out grown. “But I loooooove it,” she’ll say. Already, at the mere age of 4, she's more than willing to wear shoes that hurt her feet because they're cute. I know, I know; I'm in trouble. When she's not looking, I throw away worn out shoes and bag up toys to take to the mission. Somehow, she catches me every.single.time. This time, the evidence will be long gone by the time she returns. Muah Haha Ha!!

My son’s room could use some work as well. He has less junk but more funk. I guess that’s the norm for a preteen boy but oh.my.goodness does he have to do whatever it is that smells that badly in my house?! Ugh! We received some hand me down furniture from his great-grandfather back a few years ago so I bought him new bedding then but I’ve never repainted and it is way past time for that. There is also a very juvenile looking border with puppies and sports equipment around the top of his walls that needs to go. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see it gone when he gets home.

Which reminds me that the hall could use repainting as well...

Then there is my hubby who is so excited about some alone time. I don’t want it to sound like I don’t want to spend time with him. Really… I do. But there's so much to do and so little whine free time to do it in. And what I'm really not keen on is the idea of mountain biking with him and his friends on Saturday morning. (I’m still working on getting out of this one.) Biking, I’m fine with. Biking up and down hills, through muddy rivers, around pointy rocks and trees… *Gasp* Do you hear me? TREES! This may not seem like such a big deal to some of you more coordinated people but I'm fairly positive if I'm riding down a hill towards a tree, my body will become a certified tree magnet. And when I do fall off the bike, because let's face it - that's inevitable, I would land on one of those aforementioned pointy rocks. I'll start praying now for rain. Sleeping in sounds sooooo much better.

My entire house could also use a decrapification. It's everywhere. The worst rooms are the kitchen, where mail seems to always pile up no matter how good my intentions, and our music room, which is where junk goes to die.

There's also some small redecorating projects here and there that I have wanted to tackle...

I'm tired just thinking about it. Stay tuned and I'll let you know what actually gets done. I know you're just dying to know.

:)

"A" for Effort

My husband does 90% of our laundry. I *mostly* love this about him. I'm not trying to blow pixie dust up your tailpipe to make you think he was always this awesome; it took having our second child before he realized I was taking on more than I could handle as far as day to day household duties go. We both work full time so I think a more equal split was only fair. I'm glad he agreed. I prefer to do most of the cooking and he doesn't clean to suit me so the laundry was the obvious winner.

"Doing laundry" entails washing, drying and sorting the clothes. Everyone is still responsible for putting up their own clothing which means our 12 year old put his own away (more like he opens his closet door and throws them in) and I put the rest away but I'm not complaining. I'll take what I can get. Last night as I was hanging up a load of dark colors, I ran across one of my new dresses. As in "I just bought it this past weekend and have only worn it once" new. I held it up and sighed. It was at least three inches shorter than it was just a few days ago. "I'm guessing you dried this," I said with an obvious ill tone. I couldn't help it. "How am I supposed to know what gets dried and what doesn't. You should really label that stuff." *Sigh* At this point I'm just giving him "the look" when he adds, "I don't know what the big deal is anyway. You have beautiful legs." Nice try, buddy. I'm still mad, though. Sort of. Okay fine - I'm smiling.

Yeah, he's totally off the hook.

I am NOT his girlfriend!

I have a male co-worker that spends countless unwelcomed hours in my office every week complaining and commenting on everything under the sun – his son’s baseball team, his middle son getting into the school they wanted, and work crap. For anonymity, let us call him “annoying guy”. For the most part, annoying guy is in and out quickly; I politely smile and nod at his stories and then he goes on his merry way. I consider this a win-win. Here lately, however, his stories are becoming more drawn out and frequent. I cannot tell you how many secret eye rolls I give this guy. In my head, I’m saying really, really bad things to him. I may or may not even be secretly flipping him off. When his presence becomes absolutely ridiculous, another co-worker with visual access to my office phones my husband with orders to save me. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his number pop up on my caller ID. Yeah – I definitely owe that guy one. Or maybe ten.

I promise there is a point to this particular rambling. I will get to that now. At a party this weekend, I learned that I have become known as annoying guy’s girlfriend in our company. The example given to me was “So, does anyone know where annoying guy is?” “He’s probably in his girlfriend’s office again.” UGH!!  This makes my skin crawl! And this is what I get for being nice. My mission this week (and I definitely do choose to accept) is to make him feel completely unwelcomed so that he stays the heck out of my personal space. My strategy has been to not make eye contact, take bathroom breaks when he appears to be heading in my general direction (even if I have to go so often that people think I have the runs) and keep my radio turned up to a volume that is hard to talk over. Check, check, and check. So far today, I haven’t had to talk to him even once. Here’s hoping the rest of the week is just as successful so I can keep my secret flip offs to a minimum.

The Preschool Diva

I could save some serious cash on preschool this year. My four year old knows everything there is to know about, well, pretty much everything. To any statement you could possibly think up, her reply is "I know". She even borders on physic. For instance, we recently received a postcard in the mail from her new preschool teacher welcoming her and letting us know she was going to be in the dinosaur class. (Every classroom takes on a different animal theme and they learn about that animal throughout the year.) As I read it aloud with as much as enthusiasm as I could possibly muster - trust me, it was an impressive, rock solid performance - she nonchalantly replied, "I know". She also knows that shopping and/or ice cream always make you feel better, black goes with everything and boys are stinky. See? I told you. She knows EVERYTHING.

She's my strong willed child; the one I've named all my gray hairs after. She has been insisting on picking out her own clothes since before she was even potty trained and faces the world square on, holding absolutely nothing back. If your hair looks crazy or she doesn't like your outfit, you'll be the first to know. She is our constant reminder of my husband's late grandmother, the one who told me I had good birthing hips in our early dating years. (Oh yes... she did. She was also apparently right.) All of these qualities that sometime drive me crazy are also the reason I am totally in love with this little diva.

We have a few more weeks before she starts to school so I'm trying to mentally prepare. Hmmmmm... Perhaps I should warn her preschool teacher so she can do the same.

Time for a Change

:(



It used to be so easy to turn you on. I knew all the right buttons to push. These days, it seems to be nearly impossible. I’m not sure if you’ve changed or I’ve just forgotten how. When I am able to get you hot and bothered, you spit water at me. What’s that about?! You are ruining my clothes for Pete’s sake! I think it’s time to call it quits. We had a good time while it lasted but you have served your purpose. I’m ready to move on.

Can anyone recommend a good iron?

Product Review - Shampoo for the Golden Years

It all began at the drugstore when I was disappointed to realized my normal brand of shampoo was out of stock. (Yes, the drugstore. I'm cheap like that.) I was desperate and got lured by fancy jargon and promises of highlight activating ingredients. What can I say? It was a weak moment. The fluorescent lights fried my brain. Don't judge me - it happens. And so I picked up a matching set of John Freida Sheer Blonde shampoo and conditioner. Why not? I mean, I'm not technically even blonde but I do get blonde highlights in the summer. That counts, right?

My initial impression was that the shampoo didn't smell the best, but I continued on hoping it would grow on me. When I got to the conditioner, I snarled my nose. Dude... it stunk. Stunk! The smell reminded me of the aerosol can of perfume my grandmother used to buy at Big Lots. (Yes, aerosol. Was my grandmother the only one that wore that crap?) Totally not the way I want my hair to smell. And so, I neatly packed that junk away in the garbage can and promptly took my stinky haired self to the store to buy more shampoo. I give John Freida Sheer Blonde Shampoo and Conditioner two tumbs waaaaay down. This stuff should come with a warning label that you must be at least 65 to use it. I'm beginning to think I've developed a knack for finding stinky products.