http://journal.neilgaiman.com/
Check out the entry called "pajamablog" - Kerwin's quite beside himself that he got his question answered. :D
Showing posts with label hubby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hubby. Show all posts
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Valentine's Day
It's not a day we go all out for.
I did buy Freyja an adorable Ariel hair bow, since she's just the tiniest bit obsessed with the Titian-haired mermaid.
DH is getting a more adult oriented treat - after all, the day after is the Lupercalia, an ancient Roman fertility festival (also commemorates the founding of Rome). Why not celebrate both?
As for me, DH is pretty good at buying presents that really communicate "I love you for who you are, not who the diamond ads say you should be."
That's right, chickadees. I get video games. Two years ago we got a crazy huge tax return and he came through with a Game Boy Advance SP. That was lovely. I still use it frequently. This year it was Kingdom Hearts II. I did ask for Lego Star Wars, but apparently it's nowhere to be found.
He could buy me jewelry, I suppose. And it'd just sit there unworn. Video games, however, get lots of use. As would lingerie, but I prefer to pick that out myself and consider that more a present for HIM than the other way around.
I did buy Freyja an adorable Ariel hair bow, since she's just the tiniest bit obsessed with the Titian-haired mermaid.
DH is getting a more adult oriented treat - after all, the day after is the Lupercalia, an ancient Roman fertility festival (also commemorates the founding of Rome). Why not celebrate both?
As for me, DH is pretty good at buying presents that really communicate "I love you for who you are, not who the diamond ads say you should be."
That's right, chickadees. I get video games. Two years ago we got a crazy huge tax return and he came through with a Game Boy Advance SP. That was lovely. I still use it frequently. This year it was Kingdom Hearts II. I did ask for Lego Star Wars, but apparently it's nowhere to be found.
He could buy me jewelry, I suppose. And it'd just sit there unworn. Video games, however, get lots of use. As would lingerie, but I prefer to pick that out myself and consider that more a present for HIM than the other way around.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Our Trip Away
Kerwin works for a Marriott brand hotel (think the high-end, swanky one), and one of his "perks" is 2 free nights at a Marriott property at least 60 miles away from the one he works at in November or December.
We took advantage of this the past couple of days in the Ann Arbor, MI area. I had hoped to come back with pictures of Freyja jumping on the bed, but she refused to jump. It was a king bed, I was right there, I made sure her shoes were off. I said, "you can jump on the bed!"
"No, mumma. That is NOT safe."
"Yes, but I am here watching you, so it's OK. It's a big bed, and I doubt you'll fall."
"I will fawl and cwack my head open and you will have to take me to the 'mergency woom."
There you have it - my own personal safety patrol. We did have a good time using the pool and visiting with Kerwin's grandmother, whom we helped "decoration" her Christmas tree. The bed was cushy and huge - Freyja slept on the foldout couch the second night b/c she tossed and turned too much the first and kept us both awake. Last night, Kerwin was on one side and I was on the other, and I think you could have easily fit another fairly large adult in the middle. I don't, as a rule, snuggle.
A nice trip away, even if I didn't get any time to myself. I may look into having Kerwin just come and check me into the Courtyard or SpringHill Suites near us (we get a great rate there, something like $39/night) for a couple days of solo mommy R&R before the baby comes. I could read, take long baths, sleep, take more long baths...oh yeah.
We took advantage of this the past couple of days in the Ann Arbor, MI area. I had hoped to come back with pictures of Freyja jumping on the bed, but she refused to jump. It was a king bed, I was right there, I made sure her shoes were off. I said, "you can jump on the bed!"
"No, mumma. That is NOT safe."
"Yes, but I am here watching you, so it's OK. It's a big bed, and I doubt you'll fall."
"I will fawl and cwack my head open and you will have to take me to the 'mergency woom."
There you have it - my own personal safety patrol. We did have a good time using the pool and visiting with Kerwin's grandmother, whom we helped "decoration" her Christmas tree. The bed was cushy and huge - Freyja slept on the foldout couch the second night b/c she tossed and turned too much the first and kept us both awake. Last night, Kerwin was on one side and I was on the other, and I think you could have easily fit another fairly large adult in the middle. I don't, as a rule, snuggle.
A nice trip away, even if I didn't get any time to myself. I may look into having Kerwin just come and check me into the Courtyard or SpringHill Suites near us (we get a great rate there, something like $39/night) for a couple days of solo mommy R&R before the baby comes. I could read, take long baths, sleep, take more long baths...oh yeah.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Sunday Musings
I get more flowers now that my hubby works 3rd shift loss prevention at a fancy hotel than I ever did before. It has nothing to do with him getting paid more and thus being more able to buy me flowers, it has to do with wedding receptions, museum galas, and political events being held there.
Yes, I get castoff flowers. Today I also got cookies, Godiva chocolates, and Bosc pears, since they used pears in the arrangements for the wedding held at his hotel last night. They are very pretty arrangements, just the kind of thing I might have liked could I have afforded such a fancy fall wedding.
A few weeks ago, he brought home a gorgeous centerpiece of white and pink roses and miniature lilies. I dried about two dozen roses. It smells absolutely divine over by my baker's rack in the kitchen.
I suppose it's nice that he does think about me and bring these castoff flowers home. As a bargain hunter, I can understand his thinking.
All the same, it'd still be nice to get flowers that were intended for me in the first place, at least once in a while.
Yes, I get castoff flowers. Today I also got cookies, Godiva chocolates, and Bosc pears, since they used pears in the arrangements for the wedding held at his hotel last night. They are very pretty arrangements, just the kind of thing I might have liked could I have afforded such a fancy fall wedding.
A few weeks ago, he brought home a gorgeous centerpiece of white and pink roses and miniature lilies. I dried about two dozen roses. It smells absolutely divine over by my baker's rack in the kitchen.
I suppose it's nice that he does think about me and bring these castoff flowers home. As a bargain hunter, I can understand his thinking.
All the same, it'd still be nice to get flowers that were intended for me in the first place, at least once in a while.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The Man Meme
Via Eden:
1. Who is your man? Kerwin
2. How long have you been together? Five and a half years
3. How long dated? six months
4. How old is your man? just turned 29
5. Who eats more? him
6. Who said “I love you” first? can't remember.
7. Who is taller? him
8. Who sings better? it's a toss-up. We're both classically trained.
9. Who is smarter? probably him, as much as I hate to admit it. Book smarts only. When it comes to other things he's kind of dumb.
10. Whose temper is worse? mine, for sure
11. Who does the laundry? we both do
12. Who takes out the garbage? him
13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? me
14. Who pays the bills? both of us
15. Who is better with the computer? me
16. Who mows the lawn? him
17. Who cooks dinner? usually me
18. Who drives when you are together? almost universally me
19. Who pays when you go out? depends on who got paid that week
20. Who is most stubborn? me
21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? him
22. Whose parents do you see the most? mine!
23. Who kissed who first? he kissed me first
24. Who asked who out? I don't know. We met online.
25. Who proposed? him
26. Who is more sensitive? me
27. Who has more friends? him
28. Who has more siblings? him
1. Who is your man? Kerwin
2. How long have you been together? Five and a half years
3. How long dated? six months
4. How old is your man? just turned 29
5. Who eats more? him
6. Who said “I love you” first? can't remember.
7. Who is taller? him
8. Who sings better? it's a toss-up. We're both classically trained.
9. Who is smarter? probably him, as much as I hate to admit it. Book smarts only. When it comes to other things he's kind of dumb.
10. Whose temper is worse? mine, for sure
11. Who does the laundry? we both do
12. Who takes out the garbage? him
13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? me
14. Who pays the bills? both of us
15. Who is better with the computer? me
16. Who mows the lawn? him
17. Who cooks dinner? usually me
18. Who drives when you are together? almost universally me
19. Who pays when you go out? depends on who got paid that week
20. Who is most stubborn? me
21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? him
22. Whose parents do you see the most? mine!
23. Who kissed who first? he kissed me first
24. Who asked who out? I don't know. We met online.
25. Who proposed? him
26. Who is more sensitive? me
27. Who has more friends? him
28. Who has more siblings? him
Monday, September 24, 2007
Skillz 2 pay da billz
K assures me he has them.
Even IF, he says, I don't get a new job, we can still pay the bills! He's done the budget! If we get WIC and Food Stamps and Medicaid. To me, that is not paying the bills. That is continuing to suck off the tit when we really don't need to.
He seems to think I should be overjoyed at this. I do not want the meaningless trailer park existence nor do I particularly WANT to stay home with my spawn. All day. Because we won't be able to afford the gas to go anywhere or do anything fun. Being a stay at home mom is only cool when you have the $$ to do the things you want to do.
I would much rather work. Work. Earn money. Pay off debts. Pay off the trailer. Buy a real house with a real yard with room for spawnlings to run and play. Enjoy my spawnlings on the weekends and the evenings.
Staying home and having to watch every penny does not sound like anything I want to do. It will most certainly NOT be better for my children because vitamin Z won't even help me out of the low feeling like a non-contributor will put me in. K can try to tell me that being with the kids is the most important contribution, but when he's the one stuck at home with no adult interaction, trying to keep a toddler and a newborn quiet all day because Daddy works 3rd shift and is sleeping...well...maybe he'd get my reluctance.
I hate the feeling of not having any money in my pocket and having to ask The Husband for anything I want or need, having to justify new shampoo, or new underwear, or this cute outfit I saw for the baby. I had enough of that during Freyja's first year. Maybe if he were making double or treble what he does and could "pay" me for staying home then I'd be OK with staying at home, but the way things are now, I just can't fathom it.
And of course, because I think it's better for me to work and send my kids to daycare, I'm a Bad Evil Mommy for doing what's right for my family.
Fuck it all, I'm doing what I think is right, and to hell with what anyone else outside the family thinks.
Even IF, he says, I don't get a new job, we can still pay the bills! He's done the budget! If we get WIC and Food Stamps and Medicaid. To me, that is not paying the bills. That is continuing to suck off the tit when we really don't need to.
He seems to think I should be overjoyed at this. I do not want the meaningless trailer park existence nor do I particularly WANT to stay home with my spawn. All day. Because we won't be able to afford the gas to go anywhere or do anything fun. Being a stay at home mom is only cool when you have the $$ to do the things you want to do.
I would much rather work. Work. Earn money. Pay off debts. Pay off the trailer. Buy a real house with a real yard with room for spawnlings to run and play. Enjoy my spawnlings on the weekends and the evenings.
Staying home and having to watch every penny does not sound like anything I want to do. It will most certainly NOT be better for my children because vitamin Z won't even help me out of the low feeling like a non-contributor will put me in. K can try to tell me that being with the kids is the most important contribution, but when he's the one stuck at home with no adult interaction, trying to keep a toddler and a newborn quiet all day because Daddy works 3rd shift and is sleeping...well...maybe he'd get my reluctance.
I hate the feeling of not having any money in my pocket and having to ask The Husband for anything I want or need, having to justify new shampoo, or new underwear, or this cute outfit I saw for the baby. I had enough of that during Freyja's first year. Maybe if he were making double or treble what he does and could "pay" me for staying home then I'd be OK with staying at home, but the way things are now, I just can't fathom it.
And of course, because I think it's better for me to work and send my kids to daycare, I'm a Bad Evil Mommy for doing what's right for my family.
Fuck it all, I'm doing what I think is right, and to hell with what anyone else outside the family thinks.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Eight Things About My Marriage
1. Where did you meet your husband? Online, at a chat site called Alamak. We met in the "think cafe", a place for pseudo-intellectuals. In reality, it was the only room on the site where you could get a decent conversation without getting "A/S/L??!!1 U want 2 cyber?" every two seconds.
2. What was the first thing you said to your husband? In real life? I can't remember. It was probably, "Hi! Finally found you!"
3. Where was your first kiss? First date? First kiss and first date were the same day, I suppose. We kissed on one of the sidewalks outside of the Field Museum in Chicago - which was where we had our first meeting/date.
4. Did you have a long or short courtship/engagement? We met online in January of 1999, started "courting" online in January of 2002, met in April of 2002, he moved here in July of 2002. He proposed in January 2003, and we were married September 2003. I'd say it was about an average courtship and engagement.
5. Where did you get engaged? I was sitting on our bed, and I was pissed off at him because I knew the ring was back from being sized and he was hiding at one of our friends' houses instead of coming home and proposing like he was supposed to. He came home, handed me a rose from the gas station, and I was all "whatever!" and threw the rose on the bed. He handed it back to me and said that I might want to look at it a little closer. He had hidden the ring in the petals of the rose. I said "You BITCH!", and he pulled the ring out and asked me to marry him. Of course, I said yes - but he told everybody I called him a bitch when he proposed.
6. Where did you get married? At my mom's church on September 26, 2003 in a very small ceremony in their prayer room. We had planned on the courthouse, but they were booked up on our date. Enter our white knight in the guise of my mom's pastor, Julie, who helped us put together an amazing non-trinitarian ceremony that was as pagan as we were going to get in a Lutheran church.
7. How did the reception go? We had an open house, with a pig roast. It was very relaxed, people came and went, and we had a good time. No dancing.
8. How was the honeymoon? I'll let you know when I finally get one. We're hoping we'll be able to afford one for our 5th anniversary next year.
Stole this from Deb
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Something more
This is my entry for August's Pulsate Olympics.
The first time I laid eyes on my husband after he packed up and left his family home like a thief in the night was on a hot summer afternoon. I had spent the morning baking blueberry muffins (the blueberries picked from the patch at my then-boss's house) to quell my nerves. We had met two months before in Chicago, on neutral ground - this would be our first meeting on my home turf, as it were. I paced between the kitchen and living room, looking out to the driveway at the slightest noise of cars going by. Finally, finally he pulled into the driveway and clambered out of the tiny car.
He had been driving for thirteen hours straight in a Chevy Metro. He was sweaty and tired, dressed in jean shorts and a tee shirt with a lizard on it, and he was the most beautiful and welcome sight I'd ever seen. I remember flinging open the door and wrapping myself around him before he could even say a word - claiming him, in my own way, as my own - this man who would leave his family and friends to travel across three states in hopes of building a relationship with me.
We had spent three years getting to know each other online and by letters and infrequent phone calls, first as friends. We had helped each other through breakups and betrayals with others. When I'd had my heart broken by a boy who I thought would be "the one", he had commented on his sincere regret that he was in a relationship at the time. A year later, that relationship was over and we were building a tentative courtship. Being courted online was a singular experience - it was easier for me, a shy bookworm, to express my feelings through the written word - and by the time he arrived on my doorstep we knew each other very well indeed.
"You're here, you're really here," I whispered as I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to commit him to memory. And he was. And he stayed.
We're celebrating our fourth anniversary this September. I won't say it's been all sweetness and light - but whenever I think of him standing there on the doorstep on that July afternoon, I remember what he gave up to come to me, I remember both of us shedding our vulnerability in hopes of finding something more.
The first time I laid eyes on my husband after he packed up and left his family home like a thief in the night was on a hot summer afternoon. I had spent the morning baking blueberry muffins (the blueberries picked from the patch at my then-boss's house) to quell my nerves. We had met two months before in Chicago, on neutral ground - this would be our first meeting on my home turf, as it were. I paced between the kitchen and living room, looking out to the driveway at the slightest noise of cars going by. Finally, finally he pulled into the driveway and clambered out of the tiny car.
He had been driving for thirteen hours straight in a Chevy Metro. He was sweaty and tired, dressed in jean shorts and a tee shirt with a lizard on it, and he was the most beautiful and welcome sight I'd ever seen. I remember flinging open the door and wrapping myself around him before he could even say a word - claiming him, in my own way, as my own - this man who would leave his family and friends to travel across three states in hopes of building a relationship with me.
We had spent three years getting to know each other online and by letters and infrequent phone calls, first as friends. We had helped each other through breakups and betrayals with others. When I'd had my heart broken by a boy who I thought would be "the one", he had commented on his sincere regret that he was in a relationship at the time. A year later, that relationship was over and we were building a tentative courtship. Being courted online was a singular experience - it was easier for me, a shy bookworm, to express my feelings through the written word - and by the time he arrived on my doorstep we knew each other very well indeed.
"You're here, you're really here," I whispered as I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to commit him to memory. And he was. And he stayed.
We're celebrating our fourth anniversary this September. I won't say it's been all sweetness and light - but whenever I think of him standing there on the doorstep on that July afternoon, I remember what he gave up to come to me, I remember both of us shedding our vulnerability in hopes of finding something more.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Mini-Vacation
Freyja is away for the next two nights - she stayed with our DCP tonight and will stay with my mom tomorrow night. Kerwin had today and tomorrow off. I still have to work, but I can actually sleep without being kicked and elbowed by a two year old for the next two nights!
Tonight, we went a town over to browse in the shops and have a coffee. We were walking back to the car when Kerwin called a friend of ours, who happened to be at the bar across the street! It was dueling pianos night, so we stopped in for a drink and ended up staying almost three hours. So much fun - we NEVER do anything like this. I think we were overdue. I keep forgetting that we're not "old and married" - we can still have fun. It'd be fun for a MNO, too!
Tonight, we went a town over to browse in the shops and have a coffee. We were walking back to the car when Kerwin called a friend of ours, who happened to be at the bar across the street! It was dueling pianos night, so we stopped in for a drink and ended up staying almost three hours. So much fun - we NEVER do anything like this. I think we were overdue. I keep forgetting that we're not "old and married" - we can still have fun. It'd be fun for a MNO, too!
Monday, July 09, 2007
Do Want
I don't know how keen I am on the purple, but I love the style. But at $210, I think I'll pass.
Still looking for something to wear on Friday - it's the fifth anniversary of Kerwin's liberation from the "cult" and so we're going to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix at the Imax (3-d ending!) and then to Mongolian BBQ for dinner. Or maybe the other way around. I want to dress up like a nerd, so I'm on the lookout.
Monday, July 02, 2007
In Conversation, She Spoke Just Like a Baroness
Kerwin, in his infinite geekitude, likes to make mix CD's. His latest effort is surprisingly good and fun. Concerned about the quality of music our spawn hears at daycare (they're not permitted to play anything interesting according to the state, so it's all kiddie crap) and wishing to not set her down the path of her Broadway-musical-loving mother, he has been working on a series: "A Brief Introduction to Rock and Roll". Volume one spans 1956-1974. It begins with Chuck Berry's "Maybelline" and ends with Pink Floyd's "Shine On You Crazy Diamond".
The songs that Freyja likes best are Elvis's "Return to Sender" (it's the guy! The singing guy from Lilo and Stitch, that's him, yeah?) and Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" (it's the fire song, Daddy! I LOVE this one!).
There's a discussion in the family (between Kerwin and my dad, who is a former radio DJ and station program manager and all-around audiophile) of whether "Ring of Fire" is really Rock and Roll or not. There are a few other songs on the album that they argue about as well.
He did screw up on a couple of the versions. 1958's "La Bamba" is the Los Lobos version, and not Richie Valens. 1957's "Great Balls of Fire" is not the standard version I'm used to hearing.
Yet - I find myself playing it in the car, eschewing "Wicked", "Avenue Q", "RENT" and "Into the Woods". It's a fun mix. And if I press the "back" button to hear "Killer Queen" two or three times - well, it's just because I wish I kept Moet et Chandon in a pretty cabinet.
The songs that Freyja likes best are Elvis's "Return to Sender" (it's the guy! The singing guy from Lilo and Stitch, that's him, yeah?) and Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" (it's the fire song, Daddy! I LOVE this one!).
There's a discussion in the family (between Kerwin and my dad, who is a former radio DJ and station program manager and all-around audiophile) of whether "Ring of Fire" is really Rock and Roll or not. There are a few other songs on the album that they argue about as well.
He did screw up on a couple of the versions. 1958's "La Bamba" is the Los Lobos version, and not Richie Valens. 1957's "Great Balls of Fire" is not the standard version I'm used to hearing.
Yet - I find myself playing it in the car, eschewing "Wicked", "Avenue Q", "RENT" and "Into the Woods". It's a fun mix. And if I press the "back" button to hear "Killer Queen" two or three times - well, it's just because I wish I kept Moet et Chandon in a pretty cabinet.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Swoon!!
It was a busy weekend for our little family.
Friday night, we stayed at my folks' house overnight so we could go to the renfaire on Saturday near their house. While we were there, we broke in my mom's new blender with frozen margaritas and BS-ing around the bonfire (no margaritas for Freyja, she was already in bed). Nice time. Glad I get along with my folks! I also did a little baking for the Midsummer ritual our group held on Saturday and the picnic afterward.
Saturday dawned hot and sunny, and we suited Freyja up in her garb (I didn't take any pictures, I know I'm a schmuck) to head over to Derbyshire. Kerwin and I, unforutnately, have grown too soft and large for our garb, but here's a picture from six or seven years ago of me at another festival:
I make a sexy wench, no? I still think my shirt is too high in that photo.
They had this nice little event called "Soak a Bloke/Drench a Wench" to raise funds for breast cancer research. Freyja and I both got in on this fun. We threw water soaked sponges at a group of blokes in garb - several knaves, a couple peasants, a few dirty pirates - and got kisses in return.
Freyja was apparently the only little girl all day who "permitted" herself to be kissed! My girl was trying to kiss all these guys on the lips - hilarious. I don't know if the Jack Sparrow lookalike was TRYING to kiss me on the lips or if he just missed, but da-hamn. Swoon! It is well known around these parts that I am a "kissing whore"- I'll kiss anyone, given half an excuse. This, thankfully, amuses Kerwin instead of infuriating him. Freyja got lots of attention in her little Irish dress - she got a rose from the wandering rose guy (he was cute, too) , a necklace from a merchant who said she was "too cute", and "jewels" from the Queen of the festival. Next year we plan to take her one weekend, and go by ourselves the other weekend. Next year I also plan to fit back into my garb. Rawr!
We had a nice Midsummer ritual on Saturday as well, and a picnic with friends at a local park.
Sunday was uneventful - we got a nice afternoon nap and Freyja and I hit the grocery store, where she proceeded to tell me how to choose a watermelon - "Daddy says you gotta THUMP it!"
I'm still thinking about Jack Sparrow's twin. . .swoon!
Friday night, we stayed at my folks' house overnight so we could go to the renfaire on Saturday near their house. While we were there, we broke in my mom's new blender with frozen margaritas and BS-ing around the bonfire (no margaritas for Freyja, she was already in bed). Nice time. Glad I get along with my folks! I also did a little baking for the Midsummer ritual our group held on Saturday and the picnic afterward.
Saturday dawned hot and sunny, and we suited Freyja up in her garb (I didn't take any pictures, I know I'm a schmuck) to head over to Derbyshire. Kerwin and I, unforutnately, have grown too soft and large for our garb, but here's a picture from six or seven years ago of me at another festival:
I make a sexy wench, no? I still think my shirt is too high in that photo.
They had this nice little event called "Soak a Bloke/Drench a Wench" to raise funds for breast cancer research. Freyja and I both got in on this fun. We threw water soaked sponges at a group of blokes in garb - several knaves, a couple peasants, a few dirty pirates - and got kisses in return.
Freyja was apparently the only little girl all day who "permitted" herself to be kissed! My girl was trying to kiss all these guys on the lips - hilarious. I don't know if the Jack Sparrow lookalike was TRYING to kiss me on the lips or if he just missed, but da-hamn. Swoon! It is well known around these parts that I am a "kissing whore"- I'll kiss anyone, given half an excuse. This, thankfully, amuses Kerwin instead of infuriating him. Freyja got lots of attention in her little Irish dress - she got a rose from the wandering rose guy (he was cute, too) , a necklace from a merchant who said she was "too cute", and "jewels" from the Queen of the festival. Next year we plan to take her one weekend, and go by ourselves the other weekend. Next year I also plan to fit back into my garb. Rawr!
We had a nice Midsummer ritual on Saturday as well, and a picnic with friends at a local park.
Sunday was uneventful - we got a nice afternoon nap and Freyja and I hit the grocery store, where she proceeded to tell me how to choose a watermelon - "Daddy says you gotta THUMP it!"
I'm still thinking about Jack Sparrow's twin. . .swoon!
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Super Kawaii!!!
I dyed my hair last night. It needed it, and I was having a crummy day. It's nice and bright, about the color of deep red poppies ("And now, my beauties, something with poison in it. Poppies... Poppies. Poppies will put them to sleep. Sleep. Now they'll sleep!"). Not quite purple enough for bing cherries, but it's hella bright.
Then I had an eye appointment this morning, just a yearly vision screening - she did a dialated exam as I hadn't had one before.
Kerwin is sitting across the room laughing at me. "You look like you just walked out of an Anime!" Gee, thanks honey. You're so...kind.
Bright hair. Big eyes. Super Kawaii!!! >.< Add that to the fact that I just could not find my own sunglasses and I'm walking around with the awesome paper ones, I feel so stylin.
Then I had an eye appointment this morning, just a yearly vision screening - she did a dialated exam as I hadn't had one before.
Kerwin is sitting across the room laughing at me. "You look like you just walked out of an Anime!" Gee, thanks honey. You're so...kind.
Bright hair. Big eyes. Super Kawaii!!! >.< Add that to the fact that I just could not find my own sunglasses and I'm walking around with the awesome paper ones, I feel so stylin.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
The times, they are a-changin'
Kerwin is graduating from community college tomorrow. Halle-frickin-lujah!
He wasn't going to walk and participate in the commencement exercises. I wanted him to - it's a milestone and he deserves to be recognized. He came around - I MAY have bribed him with cake and a party. I admit nothing. Nothing!
He's taking a year off. He's "burned out" on school and wants to wait before applying to 4-year institutions. This is probably academic suicide, but now he'll have time to spend with us instead of on homework. For the past four years (seven semesters of which he was in school) he's worked full time at a thankless job and gone to college. I'm proud of him. He graduates with his Associate's in Science and Arts, plus 30-some credits of electives that may or may not transfer.
I'm also very glad that for an entire 15 months, I won't have to hear him bitching about how stupid his homework is, how many papers he has to write, how his professors think their class is the only class he's taking. I never bitched about these things because I just feel that they're part of going to college. People think I can't live without bitching about things - ha! I get it from him!
It'll be nice to have my husband with no demands on his time except for work. We haven't had a time in our married life where one or both of us weren't taking classes or working or both. In the past two years, one of us was always doing both. That's what we get for marrying "young" and having a baby right away. Can't change that now, nor do I wish to. Before much longer it'll be "remember when. . ." and "I can't believe we survived those years"
I'm looking forward to it.
He wasn't going to walk and participate in the commencement exercises. I wanted him to - it's a milestone and he deserves to be recognized. He came around - I MAY have bribed him with cake and a party. I admit nothing. Nothing!
He's taking a year off. He's "burned out" on school and wants to wait before applying to 4-year institutions. This is probably academic suicide, but now he'll have time to spend with us instead of on homework. For the past four years (seven semesters of which he was in school) he's worked full time at a thankless job and gone to college. I'm proud of him. He graduates with his Associate's in Science and Arts, plus 30-some credits of electives that may or may not transfer.
I'm also very glad that for an entire 15 months, I won't have to hear him bitching about how stupid his homework is, how many papers he has to write, how his professors think their class is the only class he's taking. I never bitched about these things because I just feel that they're part of going to college. People think I can't live without bitching about things - ha! I get it from him!
It'll be nice to have my husband with no demands on his time except for work. We haven't had a time in our married life where one or both of us weren't taking classes or working or both. In the past two years, one of us was always doing both. That's what we get for marrying "young" and having a baby right away. Can't change that now, nor do I wish to. Before much longer it'll be "remember when. . ." and "I can't believe we survived those years"
I'm looking forward to it.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
So We Were Almost Killed Today...
So I was taking DH to work, driving down the highway, and all of a sudden this asshat comes flying off an entrance ramp and careens into the left lane where we were ever so courteously driving so he could get on the damn highway. He didn't even look where he was going.
Thankfully we were not up against a barrier, just a grassy median, and I was able to pull off and over enough so he didn't hit me. He did the whole hand up in the rearview mirror thing like "Oh, I see you now, sorry I almost killed y'all"
Then when we drove by him he gave us a dirty look! WTF! It was some thug ass gansta in a doo rag, yapping on his damn cell phone. What, because you have a shiny car and a cell phone you have the right to kill people on the highway?! I DON"T THINK SO, ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If there had been a barrier in the median I would probably be dead or in very bad condition right now. What an adrenaline rush!!!!!!!! OMG! I couldn't breathe and then I started giggling like a madwoman, happy to be alive.
I did manage to crack DH up by singing
"All night, all day, angels watching over me, my lord"
as we exited the highway by his work. Hoooooly shit.
Thankfully we were not up against a barrier, just a grassy median, and I was able to pull off and over enough so he didn't hit me. He did the whole hand up in the rearview mirror thing like "Oh, I see you now, sorry I almost killed y'all"
Then when we drove by him he gave us a dirty look! WTF! It was some thug ass gansta in a doo rag, yapping on his damn cell phone. What, because you have a shiny car and a cell phone you have the right to kill people on the highway?! I DON"T THINK SO, ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If there had been a barrier in the median I would probably be dead or in very bad condition right now. What an adrenaline rush!!!!!!!! OMG! I couldn't breathe and then I started giggling like a madwoman, happy to be alive.
I did manage to crack DH up by singing
"All night, all day, angels watching over me, my lord"
as we exited the highway by his work. Hoooooly shit.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Sticky Sweet
At the dinner table last night over Maui Wowie chicken sandwiches*, Kerwin and I got on the topic of healthy eating. He's concerned about his pot belly. I told him to stop drinking soda, and he agreed with me. This led to a discussion about high fructose corn syrup and how it's pervaded just about everything we eat, including almost the entire menu at the Evil Arches. Don't ask why the fat chick knows so much about nutrition. I have the theory, it's the practice that kicks my ass.
EVERYTHING has HFCS in it. He didn't believe me until I got up from the table and started pulling everything off the shelves. Breakfast cereal? Check. Mac n Cheese? Check. Instant Oatmeal? Check. Pasta Sauce? Check. Goldfish crackers? check! I don't know how many things I pulled off the shelf and he just stood there flabbergasted.
He wants to make a conscious effort to avoid HFCS. I'm not saying this is a bad idea. I think it's a great idea. I'm just wondering how he plans to bankroll it. This is the man who bitches endlessly if I go over the $190 that we get in food stamps every month (that's right, I feed 3 people on $190 and frankly I feed us pretty well). I told him that means no more cheap food. It means making our own bread or paying $3.50 a loaf. It means no more sweetened applesauce or pudding in his lunches, or salsa on his eggs. He still seems to want to go ahead with this. I'm fine with it. I eat Kashi crackers and cereal already, and I like them better than the mainstream brands.
Just wait until pop tarts go on sale and I tell him, "No, remember? They have HFCS!"
Then again, maybe I'm not giving him enough credit. Maybe he'll embrace the healthy lifestyle.
*Maui Wowie chicken sandwiches
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, marinated overnight in a teriyaki marinade.
6 strips of bacon or turkey bacon
2 slices swiss cheese
sliced red onion
pineapple rings
wheat kaiser rolls
honey mustard
Grill chicken. Fry bacon. Slice chicken thinly. Spread the bottoms of kaiser rolls with honey mustard. Pile chicken on top, then bacon, cheese, pineapple, onion. Broil 5 min. Serve with a nice big salad. Serves two. Enjoy!
EVERYTHING has HFCS in it. He didn't believe me until I got up from the table and started pulling everything off the shelves. Breakfast cereal? Check. Mac n Cheese? Check. Instant Oatmeal? Check. Pasta Sauce? Check. Goldfish crackers? check! I don't know how many things I pulled off the shelf and he just stood there flabbergasted.
He wants to make a conscious effort to avoid HFCS. I'm not saying this is a bad idea. I think it's a great idea. I'm just wondering how he plans to bankroll it. This is the man who bitches endlessly if I go over the $190 that we get in food stamps every month (that's right, I feed 3 people on $190 and frankly I feed us pretty well). I told him that means no more cheap food. It means making our own bread or paying $3.50 a loaf. It means no more sweetened applesauce or pudding in his lunches, or salsa on his eggs. He still seems to want to go ahead with this. I'm fine with it. I eat Kashi crackers and cereal already, and I like them better than the mainstream brands.
Just wait until pop tarts go on sale and I tell him, "No, remember? They have HFCS!"
Then again, maybe I'm not giving him enough credit. Maybe he'll embrace the healthy lifestyle.
*Maui Wowie chicken sandwiches
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, marinated overnight in a teriyaki marinade.
6 strips of bacon or turkey bacon
2 slices swiss cheese
sliced red onion
pineapple rings
wheat kaiser rolls
honey mustard
Grill chicken. Fry bacon. Slice chicken thinly. Spread the bottoms of kaiser rolls with honey mustard. Pile chicken on top, then bacon, cheese, pineapple, onion. Broil 5 min. Serve with a nice big salad. Serves two. Enjoy!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Grump
I "had it out" with the husband last night.
I made a list while I was sitting here at work, fretting over what I think is wrong in our relationship. I didn't want to forget anything. It was a long list. I also had to make him understand that I'm guilty of perpetuating the bad things too.
So we talked, me strung out on half a glass of red wine (either the sulfites or the tannins do me in - it's never been this bad before, but that Chateau Ste. Michele 2002 Columbia Valley Merlot was hell) and crying in the recliner.
I didn't yell. This is new. He didn't yell. That's new, too. I think we got somewhere.
He's been acting strange lately. He's been less of a charming asshole. I like charming asshole, that's why I married him. I can't take the weird, passive-agressive thing he's been doing for the past few weeks. He mentioned he was trying to be a better husband by being less of an asshole.
He's less of an asshole when he's being an asshole. Does that make any sense? Charming asshole is his natural personality. When he's charming asshole, I can be bitchy queen bee and we get along famously. When he's trying to NOT be an asshole, he acts sullen and withdrawn, and I turn into caustic screamer. And nobody gets laid. It's not happy.
He was back to being a charming asshole this morning. Amen. Now we can make some progress on everything else.
I made a list while I was sitting here at work, fretting over what I think is wrong in our relationship. I didn't want to forget anything. It was a long list. I also had to make him understand that I'm guilty of perpetuating the bad things too.
So we talked, me strung out on half a glass of red wine (either the sulfites or the tannins do me in - it's never been this bad before, but that Chateau Ste. Michele 2002 Columbia Valley Merlot was hell) and crying in the recliner.
I didn't yell. This is new. He didn't yell. That's new, too. I think we got somewhere.
He's been acting strange lately. He's been less of a charming asshole. I like charming asshole, that's why I married him. I can't take the weird, passive-agressive thing he's been doing for the past few weeks. He mentioned he was trying to be a better husband by being less of an asshole.
He's less of an asshole when he's being an asshole. Does that make any sense? Charming asshole is his natural personality. When he's charming asshole, I can be bitchy queen bee and we get along famously. When he's trying to NOT be an asshole, he acts sullen and withdrawn, and I turn into caustic screamer. And nobody gets laid. It's not happy.
He was back to being a charming asshole this morning. Amen. Now we can make some progress on everything else.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Spoiled
So I got tix for DD and DH to go to see Monsters, INC on ICE today. They went, she apparently sat still through the entire thing and loved it - cool - DH then calls me back and says, "Ok, well now we're at the Zoo."
"Huh?" (Our zoo is small, and free in the winter months.)
"Yeah, we were driving by the zoo and I said, 'hey, the zoo! and she said 'oooh, I wanta see da tiger! I not too tired!' so we stopped. We're going to take a quick run through the zoo and see the tiger and then we'll be home."
I'm laughing by this point. Is there any wonder she likes him more than me right now? He's the fun parent. I would have said "No, it's nap time, we don't' get to do everything we want to." Maybe I need to be more fun.
"Huh?" (Our zoo is small, and free in the winter months.)
"Yeah, we were driving by the zoo and I said, 'hey, the zoo! and she said 'oooh, I wanta see da tiger! I not too tired!' so we stopped. We're going to take a quick run through the zoo and see the tiger and then we'll be home."
I'm laughing by this point. Is there any wonder she likes him more than me right now? He's the fun parent. I would have said "No, it's nap time, we don't' get to do everything we want to." Maybe I need to be more fun.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Nightmares hurt.
Freyja came running down the hall, screaming her head off, "Mumma-mumma-mumma-mumma-mumma!!!" at about 5am this morning. Kerwin and I both jolted bolt upright and he grabbed her as she ran into our room. She was calling for me for once in the middle of the night and he grabbed her, soothed her, and took her out to rock in the chair.
My soul hurts today. My mommy-ness hurts today. For once, Freyja wanted ME over Kerwin - and he either ignored that or didn't think it was important. Have I done this? Did I make this monster by encouraging him to bond with her and care for her? Is this why she rejects me at every turn in favor of daddy? And is it wrong of me to be hurt and feel a little betrayed that instead of letting me comfort her, he took over without a thought?
I did say something this morning, and he claims he didn't hear her calling for me, or didn't realize that she was calling for anybody in particular. Why do I have to fail at everything I'm supposed to be good at as a female of the species?
My soul hurts today. My mommy-ness hurts today. For once, Freyja wanted ME over Kerwin - and he either ignored that or didn't think it was important. Have I done this? Did I make this monster by encouraging him to bond with her and care for her? Is this why she rejects me at every turn in favor of daddy? And is it wrong of me to be hurt and feel a little betrayed that instead of letting me comfort her, he took over without a thought?
I did say something this morning, and he claims he didn't hear her calling for me, or didn't realize that she was calling for anybody in particular. Why do I have to fail at everything I'm supposed to be good at as a female of the species?
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Postpartum Abandonment
For January's Pulsate Olympics.
I suppose the feeling of abandonment started in the labor room, when Kerwin left me to go talk on the phone as the Stadol wore off. It continued as he slept soundly for eight hours, snoring away on the little cot in my postpartum room, as I attempted to cope with being sliced open from hip to hip and having a new little person to take care of besides. I couldn’t get up from the bed, and the nurses shook their fingers at me and said “Don’t you fall asleep with the baby in your bed!!!!” so I was up until 2 AM, hopped up on morphine with my beautiful new baby, who I couldn’t stop kissing and smelling and trying to get latched on properly, while I tried in vain to call to Kerwin to wake him up to put Freyja in her plastic bassinet, and the one response I got was, “Leave me alone, I’m sleeping. I was up early.”
Really? I was up at the same time, and I had major surgery plus 12 hours of labor today. But you sleep, honey. You just go for it.
I finally had to call the nurses to come and get Freyja at about 2 AM, said I needed a little sleep, but please bring her back when she woke so I could feed her. They came back at 4 AM with a little bottle of soy formula and one of those supplemental nursers, the one that you have to tape above your nipple. She told me, “Your milk hasn’t come in yet. Your baby is hungry. You have to give her this formula. You just fed her two hours ago and she’s hungry again, you’re not making enough milk.”
Everything, EVERYTHING in my brain was screaming that this was wrong, I wasn’t supposed to have milk yet, just colostrum. Breastfed babies need to eat about every 1 and a half to two hours, this is normal. However, my baby was crying louder than my brain could handle, so I let them tape the little tube to my breast and let her eat the nasty soy formula (never to this day do I understand why it was soy formula). They took her away again.
I was awoken again at 6 AM by the family practice doctor that was on call for Freyja’s doctor. He was nice and smiling, said I had a perfect baby and that her regular doctor would come to see her on Monday before we were discharged. I fell back asleep and the baby was back at 8 AM, with the young morning nurse who had GIVEN HER A BOTTLE OF FORMULA without my permission. I just nodded numbly, I didn’t even know what to say to that. Getting mad was no use, I had no backup from my snoring husband.
I had visitors intermittently the rest of the three days I spent in the hospital. Kerwin, however, went right back to work on Sunday morning. He came on Sunday night for a couple of hours, then went home to “clean”. He also worked Monday (when the hospital records woman came in and was beastly to me and caused me to cry profusely, refusing to believe that I was married because my last name was different from ‘the baby’s father’) and went his first day of college classes in the new semester on Monday night as well. Thankfully, his instructor told him to go be with his wife and new baby instead of spending 3 hours in class. I didn’t even get any flowers.
When we came home on Monday night, there were dishes and laundry everywhere.
Want to guess who ended up doing all those dishes and laundry 4 days after major abdominal surgery while trying to not become sleep deprived, shower every day, and take care of a newborn (who, thankfully, was VERY mellow)? Yeah. That’d be me, because he was right back to work (regular FT job plus being editor of the college newspaper which caused more than a few incredibly late nights) and college classes. I don’t know if it’s even fair to blame him for abandoning me. We were pretty broke and needed the money, but I also needed the support that I never got. All of my family lives within a 20 mile radius, and nobody called to offer to come and sit with Freyja so I could sleep, or help me with housework, or just come and visit to keep me from going batshit crazy. Nobody called at all, except my folks. Granted, my folks both work full time as well, and my mom took a week of vacation over my due date, which was two weeks too early.
The crazy thoughts started coming about two days after we got home. I kept telling myself that it was normal to want to put Freyja in her carseat, strap her in, and leave her out by the road for somebody else to come and take care of. After all, I was having no trouble sleeping, or sleeping too much, and that was the major harbinger of PPD according to the books, magazines, and websites. I didn’t have time to be crazy, I had too much to do being a new mom with an absentee husband. I was neurotic in checking on her to make sure she was still breathing, feeling incredibly guilty that I wished she just didn’t exist.
I tried to make up for the thoughts by cuddling her and singing to her, and loving on her all the time. I wanted so desperately to feel that “bonding” that all the books talked about. I really wanted to feel differently, and I knew what I was feeling wasn’t right, but I had no words to ask for help, nor did I feel that I would be worth my salt as a mother if I did. At least I had a husband who did what he could when he was home. Lots of single moms did all of this on their own, and no complaining. What right did I have to complain, or to ask for help, or to admit that I was really having a hard time?
Thankfully, my physical recovery from the caesarean birth was textbook. I took it easy as much as I could, I slept when Freyja slept except her morning nap, which I used to shower (to prove to myself I wasn’t crazy, I showered daily and was meticulous about my appearance and clothing) and hop online to get some form of socialization.
I still don’t know how I got through those first few months, much less the first six weeks. I lied on the PHQ at my six week postpartum appointment. I didn’t want to admit that I was weak. I didn’t want them to call CPS and have Freyja taken from me because of my horrible thoughts. I didn’t want to go to the psych ward. The fear of those interventions was crippling, and so I couldn’t admit my problems and concerns.
I am terrified to have another baby, because I hear that PPD gets worse. My words to Kerwin on the subject the other night were, “I’m scared to turn into Andrea Yates”.
I still think that I’m a terrible mother for thinking what I did when Freyja was so tiny. When people comment on how wonderful she is, or how smart, or how pretty, I feel guilty, because I couldn’t see how wonderful she was when she was a newborn because my brain doesn’t function properly. I hope that someday I can get past it.
I suppose the feeling of abandonment started in the labor room, when Kerwin left me to go talk on the phone as the Stadol wore off. It continued as he slept soundly for eight hours, snoring away on the little cot in my postpartum room, as I attempted to cope with being sliced open from hip to hip and having a new little person to take care of besides. I couldn’t get up from the bed, and the nurses shook their fingers at me and said “Don’t you fall asleep with the baby in your bed!!!!” so I was up until 2 AM, hopped up on morphine with my beautiful new baby, who I couldn’t stop kissing and smelling and trying to get latched on properly, while I tried in vain to call to Kerwin to wake him up to put Freyja in her plastic bassinet, and the one response I got was, “Leave me alone, I’m sleeping. I was up early.”
Really? I was up at the same time, and I had major surgery plus 12 hours of labor today. But you sleep, honey. You just go for it.
I finally had to call the nurses to come and get Freyja at about 2 AM, said I needed a little sleep, but please bring her back when she woke so I could feed her. They came back at 4 AM with a little bottle of soy formula and one of those supplemental nursers, the one that you have to tape above your nipple. She told me, “Your milk hasn’t come in yet. Your baby is hungry. You have to give her this formula. You just fed her two hours ago and she’s hungry again, you’re not making enough milk.”
Everything, EVERYTHING in my brain was screaming that this was wrong, I wasn’t supposed to have milk yet, just colostrum. Breastfed babies need to eat about every 1 and a half to two hours, this is normal. However, my baby was crying louder than my brain could handle, so I let them tape the little tube to my breast and let her eat the nasty soy formula (never to this day do I understand why it was soy formula). They took her away again.
I was awoken again at 6 AM by the family practice doctor that was on call for Freyja’s doctor. He was nice and smiling, said I had a perfect baby and that her regular doctor would come to see her on Monday before we were discharged. I fell back asleep and the baby was back at 8 AM, with the young morning nurse who had GIVEN HER A BOTTLE OF FORMULA without my permission. I just nodded numbly, I didn’t even know what to say to that. Getting mad was no use, I had no backup from my snoring husband.
I had visitors intermittently the rest of the three days I spent in the hospital. Kerwin, however, went right back to work on Sunday morning. He came on Sunday night for a couple of hours, then went home to “clean”. He also worked Monday (when the hospital records woman came in and was beastly to me and caused me to cry profusely, refusing to believe that I was married because my last name was different from ‘the baby’s father’) and went his first day of college classes in the new semester on Monday night as well. Thankfully, his instructor told him to go be with his wife and new baby instead of spending 3 hours in class. I didn’t even get any flowers.
When we came home on Monday night, there were dishes and laundry everywhere.
Want to guess who ended up doing all those dishes and laundry 4 days after major abdominal surgery while trying to not become sleep deprived, shower every day, and take care of a newborn (who, thankfully, was VERY mellow)? Yeah. That’d be me, because he was right back to work (regular FT job plus being editor of the college newspaper which caused more than a few incredibly late nights) and college classes. I don’t know if it’s even fair to blame him for abandoning me. We were pretty broke and needed the money, but I also needed the support that I never got. All of my family lives within a 20 mile radius, and nobody called to offer to come and sit with Freyja so I could sleep, or help me with housework, or just come and visit to keep me from going batshit crazy. Nobody called at all, except my folks. Granted, my folks both work full time as well, and my mom took a week of vacation over my due date, which was two weeks too early.
The crazy thoughts started coming about two days after we got home. I kept telling myself that it was normal to want to put Freyja in her carseat, strap her in, and leave her out by the road for somebody else to come and take care of. After all, I was having no trouble sleeping, or sleeping too much, and that was the major harbinger of PPD according to the books, magazines, and websites. I didn’t have time to be crazy, I had too much to do being a new mom with an absentee husband. I was neurotic in checking on her to make sure she was still breathing, feeling incredibly guilty that I wished she just didn’t exist.
I tried to make up for the thoughts by cuddling her and singing to her, and loving on her all the time. I wanted so desperately to feel that “bonding” that all the books talked about. I really wanted to feel differently, and I knew what I was feeling wasn’t right, but I had no words to ask for help, nor did I feel that I would be worth my salt as a mother if I did. At least I had a husband who did what he could when he was home. Lots of single moms did all of this on their own, and no complaining. What right did I have to complain, or to ask for help, or to admit that I was really having a hard time?
Thankfully, my physical recovery from the caesarean birth was textbook. I took it easy as much as I could, I slept when Freyja slept except her morning nap, which I used to shower (to prove to myself I wasn’t crazy, I showered daily and was meticulous about my appearance and clothing) and hop online to get some form of socialization.
I still don’t know how I got through those first few months, much less the first six weeks. I lied on the PHQ at my six week postpartum appointment. I didn’t want to admit that I was weak. I didn’t want them to call CPS and have Freyja taken from me because of my horrible thoughts. I didn’t want to go to the psych ward. The fear of those interventions was crippling, and so I couldn’t admit my problems and concerns.
I am terrified to have another baby, because I hear that PPD gets worse. My words to Kerwin on the subject the other night were, “I’m scared to turn into Andrea Yates”.
I still think that I’m a terrible mother for thinking what I did when Freyja was so tiny. When people comment on how wonderful she is, or how smart, or how pretty, I feel guilty, because I couldn’t see how wonderful she was when she was a newborn because my brain doesn’t function properly. I hope that someday I can get past it.
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