Wednesday, July 22, 2009

four years and counting

This weekend Bryan’s family threw a surprise party for his grandparents’ 55th wedding anniversary. His grandma doesn’t like surprises or “fuss” and so it was a little up in the air as to whether or not she would be happy about it. Afterwards, she said that whoever’s idea it had been could forget about a Christmas present this year. I think that means she took it pretty well.

Anyway, the party was what you could call a success. I am putting the finishing touches on a little scrapbook that we made for them and I’ve been searching for some marriage quotes for the front cover. Here are some ones that I really liked, although they perhaps aren’t appropriate for an anniversary scrapbook…

When a woman steals your husband, there is no better revenge than to let her keep him.Anonymous

My wife and I were happy for 20 years - then we met.Rodney Dangerfield

“Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close knit family in another city." George Burns.

“Getting married for sex is like buying a 747 for the free peanuts”-Jeff Foxworthy

"Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery." -Erma Bombeck

“Marriage is a wonderful invention: then again, so is a bicycle repair kit.” -Billy Connolly

"Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to a restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight, dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays."-Henry Youngman

Happy Anniversary, to the two coolest cats I know! And if Bryan and I make it to our 55th anniversary, we don't want anyone to throw us a little party. We want a parade.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

red alert! red alert!

This morning I woke up and went into the kitchen for my nutritious morning pick-me-up - Diet Dr. Pepper. As I drank my lukewarm breakfast right out of the can, I realized in a moment of terror that someone had been in our house last night. I guess that means it was broken into, but I couldn’t find any signs of forced entry. I also looked all around and couldn’t find anything missing.

But I know that someone, some stranger, had been in our kitchen. Because yesterday I noticed that the last paper towel had been used and the empty roll was still on the holder. And I thought, “I’m not going to change it right now.” And then this morning, there was a brand new roll on the holder! And since I’m the only one who knows where we keep the paper towels…well, it doesn’t take a detective to realize that someone must have broken into our house. I’ve seen enough C.S.I. to know that I had better not touch anything that might be evidence, especially the dirty dishes in the sink or the sticky spots on the counter!

The police are never going to believe this!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


Bryan and I are not sports fans. We don’t keep up with any teams or sports and we don’t really like to play organized sports, either. In fact, that was one of the things I really liked about him when we met – I knew I would never have to worry about what kind of mood he was going to be in if his favorite team lost. And he knew that I would never run off and leave him for an NFL quarterback, no matter how good-lookin’ he was or how much money he had or how many luxurious trips he would take me on….(on second thought…)

Wesley has never been interested in sports, either, which is no surprise. I think no matter how much you want your kids to be their own people, some of who you are as parents rubs off on them. So yesterday Wesley walked into the kitchen and demanded, “Look at my underpants, Mommy! Aren’t they cute?” I moved closer to inspect the underpants, not sure what he was talking about. His underwear was printed with little blue football helmets all over which was a little strange since we aren’t big sports people, but cute? So I asked him why he thought they were cute and he looked at me like, you idiot and told me, “Those little whales are so cute!”

I don’t know - maybe we should watch a little less Discovery channel and a little more ESPN.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

i think i can, i think i can

Recently, a friend and I decided to do a little home version of “The Biggest Loser.” She was going to challenge her brother to it and I begged to be let in on it. I needed some motivation. It seems that over the years and through two pregnancies, I’ve lost my 6-pack abs and somehow they were replaced with a 2-liter.

So we weighed in via text message last week, on Monday. And this week I’ve been putting forth an honest effort. However, I’ve suffered some setbacks and I want to tell you about them.

First, I am trying to drink fewer calories. I think aside from milk, calories should not be wasted on anything that can be taken in through a straw. I am aware that many in the medical field say that diet soda is also not good and to them I say, “Shut up.” So when I have soda, it has been diet. Mostly. This summer the McDonald’s in our town (is it across the nation or just here?) has put all of their soft drinks, any size, on sale for $1. I go there to cash in on that great deal about once a week. This week, I ordered myself a large Diet Dr. Pepper. Zero calories, baby, even in a cup the size of a scuba tank! It has been so hot that I drank it down pretty quickly. And on the very last sip, I realized why it seemed even more refreshing than usual – it wasn’t diet at all. Those turds had given me regular Dr. Pepper – and probably about 600 calories.

In another attempt to be healthier, I went for a walk with my friend. We agreed to meet at the park in the evening, hoping it would be cooler. As I drove to the park at 7:00 p.m., I saw the bank marquis flashing that it was 106 degrees. But I didn’t let that deter me because, hey, there was a breeze at least. The loop around the track is 1.25 miles so I figured if I did that twice, I could call it exercise. It turns out, it wasn’t just a light breeze, but a 45 mph hot wind blowing in our faces from every direction. It was like someone was walking in front of us with their hair dryer on the hottest setting, blowing it right in our faces. We quickly decided that it probably was best to only do one loop – it didn’t even seem safe to be walking in such horrible heat. By the middle of the loop, it started to feel a little less hot, perhaps heat stroke was setting in, who knows? The walk ended quite nicely. I stopped sweating and there was a big purple hippopotamus giving out free jelly beans. And I was invisible but I could see with x-ray vision. And there were angels singing songs about staying away from fallen power lines.

After I regained consciousness, I planned all of my meals for the next day. I was going to eat so well! It was exciting to get through the whole day, having followed my plan and knowing that I had cut back on my calories and fat successfully – it wasn’t so hard after all. AND THEN Bryan came home. He had gotten us both Giant Krunch ice cream bars from the gas station as a surprise. The kind with 300 percent of your daily recommended fat intake. What was I supposed to do?!? If I told him I didn’t want it, I would be un-doing all my thoughtfulness training for the last four years! But if I ate the ice cream bar, I would be waving goodbye to my hopes of being the biggest loser for the week. And I could put it in the freezer, but that would only be prolonging the inevitable – me eating that delicious thing.

I ate it. And it was yummy. I had to or he would never bring me a thoughtful surprise again.

Stay tuned for week two.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

hey, baby, can I get your number?,2933,530268,00.html?test=latestnews

Instead of a freak accident of the week story, I wanted to share this story with anyone who will read it. Did you read it? It’s worth your minute.

There are a few things that struck me while I read it. First of all, in case you missed it, his late wife’s name was RebelJane. I don’t want to be disrespectful to RebelJane, but I think the name itself speaks volumes about the situation. So this guy basically dumped his nine, yes nine kids AND NOW he is going to have two more with a new girlfriend. Where do men like this even find girlfriends? But they do.

I could almost respect the fact that he gave up his nine kids initially – I could assume that RebelJane had done most of the parenting, he panicked, decided he couldn’t take care of them, and left them (legally, thanks to a really bad loophole). If you didn’t get all the way to the bottom of the article, it also stated that this family has received an estimated $995,000 in government aid already. That is 110 times my current annual salary. So does it make me mad? It makes me so mad I could spit nails. Sadly, nothing can be done about this guy, who can go on having more and more and more babies.

I have to get off my soapbox now. But please, please, if you are reading this, promise me that you will never, under any circumstances, reproduce with this guy. Thank you.

Monday, July 6, 2009

lunch, anyone?

I typed up a post today, copied it, and when I pasted it, it was the serial number from our high chair. Instead of getting really, really mad that I couldn't find my post that I had just typed (Okay, I got mad but I'm over it now) I am posting something that I wrote in February but didn't post then. Please read on.

Last Friday was an odd day. We woke up Friday morning (5:30-ish) to the sound of really, really loud hail hammering our house. And then for Friday, the trusty weathermen had predicted a blizzard. So the area schools closed down even though no snow had actually fallen at this point. Being from Colorado, this is hard for me to understand, but I guess they were erring on the side of caution. Bryan’s school was not cancelled for some reason. And one by one my daycare kids’ moms called and said that they would be staying home until…no one was coming! Wheeee! It was like someone told me that cookie dough could now be injected directly into my vein.

Since I never get to have lunch with my dear husband, I decided the boys and I would pick up some lunch for him and take it to his school. We got him some food and headed that way. We didn’t call first because I wanted him to be surprised. THAT was my first mistake.

About that time, the blizzard started. But I really, really wanted to surprise him with lunch so I just figured we could drive slowly and it would be okay. We finally got there and went to his classroom. We waited. And waited. Still no Bryan. So we went to the school lunchroom thinking that perhaps he had eaten there. No Bryan. Some older women saw me lugging around a baby in a carrier and a squirrely toddler and told me I should just go to the office and have him paged. We went into the office, which was jam-packed with people and I told the woman sitting at the counter that I needed to page Mr. Phillips. The office got quiet. She looked at me with a big smile and said, “You must be grandma!”

In my mind, I was thinking, “Do you want me to punch you in the face now or wait for you after school?”

I replied, “No, I’m mom. These are my babies,” I pointed to the boys and tried to sound undisturbed.

“Oh, you mean you’re Bryan’s mom?” the lady asked me. Did this mean that before she thought I was Bryan’s grandma?

“No,” I told her, “I’m Bryan’s WIFE.”

“Oh,” she said with a confused face which quickly turned into an embarrassed face, “Nevermind.” And then she paged him to the office. (Later I found out that he had gone to lunch with his dad - lesson learned: call first.)

Really, what is WITH these people? Do I honestly look old enough to be Bryan’s grandma or even his mom? I know that starting a family at age 29 makes me an old maid in these here parts but cut me a little slack!

So much for my expensive age-fighting eye cream.

Friday, July 3, 2009

can't wait for three!

Really, could I be any lazier about writing? Somebody slap me!

Wesley has been having a hard time lately. He’ll be three in August so he is in the midst of the “terrible twos.” And since he is so close to three now, I’m getting excited – because it will all get better on his birthday, right?

When he first turned two, I thought, “This isn’t so bad.” But like a fine wine, he has perfected the terrible part of terrible twos with time. I’m not trying to be negative about my son. I still love him ridiculous amounts and I realize that this behavior is normal. But sometimes the constant whining/crying/arguing/rascally behavior gets a little old. Yesterday, he had had a particularly rough day. It was almost bedtime and he was having a mini-meltdown about which pajamas to wear. Something like, Not THOSE pajamas. No, now I want them. But only the shirt. Wait, I want the pants too. Right now! Give. Me. Those. Pants.

Finally, I put the pants aside and told Wesley to come sit with me for a minute. I realized that this had nothing to do with pajama pants but more with two year old angst. I pulled him onto my lap, his underwear-clad bottom on my bare crossed legs. I was trying to have a tender “mommy loves you” moment but he wouldn’t hold still. I asked him, “What is wrong, Wes? Hold still and talk to Mommy.”

And he exclaimed, “I can’t! There’s crunchy things all over your legs!!!”
Those “crunchy things” would be a week’s worth of not having time to shave in case you were wondering. I couldn’t hold it in any longer – I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.

Crunchy leg hair saved the day. How cool is that?