The boys are off for Spring break, which means my daily schedule has been completely thrown off, which means naptimes and “computer times” have been moved around or forsaken completely.
There are have been a few times where I wanted to sit down and write about something that The People (that was for YOU, Danny.) just HAD to know, but then the boys would ask me to please do the laundry so that they would have clean socks to wear to play basketball in.
God. They’re so demanding.
Actually, this has been a very enjoyable, stress free spring break. Now that they’re older and a little more mature, they don’t fight as much, they aren’t eternally bored and bonus! They like to go spend all of their time at their friend’s house!
There was a time where, as much as I loved having them home all day to do things like go to Chuck E Cheeses or Discovery Zone, I would feel like ripping my hair out by the second day of vacation because they would fight every second of every day and cry that they were “bored” and had “nothing to do.”
It would seem that those days are long gone and as much as I miss them being little, it’s kind of nice being able to enjoy their company without having to listen to “Moooom, I’m so boooooooored.”
Speaking of bored…
Last night I decided to go to the gym early to get ma’ free weights and ma’ crunches on before Aerobic Dance class.
The area designated for “ab work” was being hogged up by two little teenagers who were doing more talking (and texting) then they were actual ab work. I thought I’d go ahead and do all of my leg weights since it looked like they were going to be there a while.
When I was finished, those little hos were STILL laying there, gossiping, giggling and sending text messages on their totally awesome cellular devices.
I wanted to walk up to them and say “So, hi. I really need to do some ab work and you’re taking up all of the room and I noticed you’re not actually doing sit ups, but socializing and while I realize you have all of the time in the world because you’re young with perky tits, I don’t. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m old. And also fat and as I’m talking to you I could be developing diabetes, or have a stroke, or go blind so if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it if you got your tight little asses up off of this floor and take your conversation elsewhere because I’ve got 50 pounds to lose and it aint going to happen if I can’t do some mother fucking crunches.
But, being the kind and loving soul that I am, I just walked by and gave them dirty looks whilst letting out one of those “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE SO ANNOYING” sighs and headed for Aerobic Dance class.
AD class was better than it’s been the past few weeks. She lightened up on the “grapevines” and added some actual dance moves like “the mambo” and the “one where you run forward for three steps and then do this really awesome kick jump” (and not to brag, but I totally nailed it.) However, it still wasn’t the same Aerobic Dance that I fell in love with back in 2005. Gone are the days of “The Monkey” and “The Dirty Dance.” It’s all “Grapevines” and “V-steps” and I’m sorry, that’s so 1985.
I hate to say it, but I do believe that my love for Aerobic Dance has begun to wither and I think I may be done with it.
All good things must come to an end, I suppose. But damn, it was fun while lasted.
Maybe I’ll take up pole dancing. I’m just not quite ready to stop “spending my husband’s hard earned money on ridiculous things like dance lessons.”
Category Archives: This Thing Called Life
It has arrived
Today is The Big Day.
The day when I will sit in front of a panel of 5 people and answer questions like “why do you think you’re qualified for this position?”
(Do they actually ask that question? The last time I interviewed for a job was in 1990, so it’s been a while.)
I’m not nervous at all, which makes me nervous, because, shouldn’t I be nervous?
I guess I’m not nervous because I’ve decided that if it’s meant to be, I’ll get the job. If it’s not meant to be, then I won’t get the job.
I’m surprised by how calm I feel. Normally, today would be a post filled with EXCLAMATION POINTS!! AND ALL CAPS!!!
What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I not freaking out? DID SOMEONE PUT PROZAC IN MY CEREAL?
Ok, that felt better.
I’m just hoping that no one on the panel reads my blog, because that might not work in my favor.
“Whoa, I know that woman! She writes about her vagina on The Internet! PASS.”
The longer that I sit here and type, the more I find myself thinking of all of the things that could go wrong in this interview and while it doesn’t make me “nervous” it does make me think that I should take some gas-x.
*pffftatraatatatateeewffaaa*
You know, I’ve been pretty lucky as far as farting accidents go. For as gassy as I get when I’m nervous, I’ve only had two farts slip out in social situations in my entire life, and I almost got away with one of them.
The second one, well, I went ahead and claimed it as my own and moved on with my life. (Although, moving on with my life wasn’t as easy as one may think because when you fart in front of a bunch of kids that are supposed to “respect your authority” it takes a while for them to take you seriously again and to not make juicy farting noises every time you walk by.)
I almost freaked out about “having nothing to wear” but decided that if they don’t like my polka dotted skirt, then I don’t think I want to work for them anyway. (Translation: my polka dotted skirt is pretty much the only one that still fits me and I refuse to buy new clothes in this size. Flat.Out.Refuse.)
I should probably go get ready now, since I have to leave here in less than an hour.
Do you think they’ll notice if I don’t shave my legs?
Niiiice Tans
My Christmas present from my mother was a printer/scanner. I hadn’t bothered to set it up until yesterday, which was probably good in the sense that I’m not sure I’ll ever get anything done around the house because SCANNING! OLD! PICTURES! IS! FUN!
Life before the scanner involved having to take an actual picture of a picture that I wanted to post online. That was very complicated and involved me having to upload and edit photos and so I only did it once in a great while when I really thought there was a picture the internet just HAD to see.
Now, if there is a picture I want to share with the World Wide Web, all I have to do is press the scan button and WHOOMP! There it is!
I’m so excited about my new scanner that my mouth is actually watering right now. And I’m not only excited for myself, I’m excited for all of YOU. Were it not for my new scanner, this would have only been something you saw in your dreams.
Ah, young PigHunter, surrounded by The Ladies.
I have no idea who the girl in blue pants sporting the camel toe is, but I think we can all agree that, clearly, she did not have killer dance aerobic moves. I mean, what’s with the FIST, lady? Seriously, why was she even trying?
I have to admit that I am extremely jealous that those girls had the privilege of dancing with my man pre-Pale-N-Hairy legs. Man, what I wouldn’t give to love up on those young, tan, hairless legs.
(p.s. THE SHORTS!)
Now, in the spirit of “being fair”…
That was me at around the same age as Young PigHunter (15, to be exact.)
Notice that unlike my future husband, I am not surrounded by The Gentlemen. That is because I was a virtuous young woman who loved The Lord and also her foam, overnight rollers.
So, while Young PigHunter was living a life a sin, (I dare you to try to convince me that dancing in THOSE SHORTS in front of hornay young wimmins isn’t a sin!) Young Y was at home, putting rollers in her hair, while singing songs about how great God is.
The funny thing is that it would only be 2 years after that picture of my self was taken that PigHunter would fall madly in love with me and we’d be having our own little “Dance Parties” in the back of his blue Chevy Blazer.
(Up next on The Scanner: Blonde Me. Or maybe Skinny Me in a Leather Jacket)
Electricity
Ok, so, um, like when you hear a very loud buzzing sound from a light that is on and then there’s a mini explosion and it starts to smell like smoke, that’s bad, right?
Because that just happened to the hall light and so, I kind of freaked out and ordered the kids to EVACUATE THE HOUSE AND then I grabbed all of my storage containers with photos and put them in the back of the van just in case this shitty house burns to the ground.
I’m (almost) sure the house isn’t going to burn to the ground now, but I am afraid to plug anything in or turn on anything that isn’t already turned on. (And also afraid to flip any light switches on. Good thing I like peeing in the dark.)
I may or may not have unplugged everything in the house that is not this computer and not the TV and well, I also may or may not have did a little in my pants.
PigHunter is not home and he also does not have a cell phone so I can not call him to ask him if I should keep packing all of our valuables in the car because OMG! The house is going to burn down! Or if I should let the kids back in the house and relax because hahaha.. it was probably just the light bulb exploding and not really a big deal.
Except I’m [high pitched voice]PRETTY FREAKING SURE[/high pitched voice] that light explosion + loud buzzing sound + smoke= a big deal and not good at all.
I have to say that, aside from the fact that I have loaded all of my family photos into the van and have forbidden my kids from coming back into the house and have unplugged almost everything in the house and have DUCT TAPED ALL LIGHT SWITCHES so that no one can flip one on, I have handled this mini crisis with “minimal overreacting.”
Think of the 911 call that I could have made.
“OMG! 911! THE LIGHT EXPLODED! COME AND SAVE US!”
You should be proud of me, Internet. I’ve grown so much.
PigHunter actually got home as I was writing this and is now in the attic “checking things out.”
Which, NOT ENTIRELY OK WITH THAT, because of things like “electrocution”, but for the sake of my sanity, I’m going to go ahead pretend like I’m totally ok with it and chill out with a glass of wine.
(Meredith Viera’s all “oh noes! She drinks wine in front of her children! Bad mommy. Bad.)
The update that no one has really been waiting for. HA.
I haven’t been writing much these days and apparently, people are starting to notice.
Life has been a little crazy around here with the sick kids, the guitar lessons, the drum lessons, the Holidays, the basketball practices, the looking for job because we are going to have to move, except SCRATCH THAT because we just found out that the Landlord has changed his mind and “isn’t going to sell the house”. (Translation: The Realtor decided not to buy it. Maybe I didn’t have enough pretty candles burning when she came to look at it, because it certainly couldn’t have been the cabinets that made her not want to buy this lovely house!) We have waited for a month for him to tell us what was going on and if he was selling it and when we needed to be out of here.
He plans to put it up for sale again in a year. We agreed to stay so that we can have time to get things in order (get new jobs, save, pay bills off) so we can be in a better place financially and maybe even buy this place when they put it up for sale again. We promised them we’d not move so they don’t have to worry about the house sitting.
I’m still convinced that the whole “We’re selling the house, would you like to buy it?” was their way of letting us know that they were NOT going to fix the cabinets. (Because, the week before he showed up unannounced to offer to sell us the house, he called to raise our rent and he said “don’t worry, we’re not selling it! We’re just raising the rent!) But, whatever. It’s their house, they can do what they want. Maybe we will be in a position to buy this house in a year and then, I can rip those fuckers out and we can have a kitchen that doesn’t make us cry.
Anyway.
I do want to get into the habit of writing on a regular basis again now that things have gone back to (semi) normal around here. I know you’re so happy to hear me say that because you’ve missed my regular updates so bad that it hurts a little on the inside.
Admit it.**
**For those of you who lack A Sense of Humor, I was joking. (But seriously, it hurt a little, didn’t it?)
Pupp-ay!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Oh shit. You probably have a headache because of that nasty hangover . I’ll try to keep it down.
I? Do not have a hangover as this is the second, or quite possibly even the third, New Years Eve that we spent at home not drinking liquor and also falling asleep way before the clock struck midnight.
Because we are old and boring and no one wants to invite us to their New Years Eve parties anymore.
But we don’t care! We love having nothing to do on New Years Eve. Gives us a chance to fight about stupid things like plugged up toilets and fruit! And honestly? I love spending it here at home with the kids– knowing that everyone is safe, cozy and warm (even if they are unable to eat fruit and/or take a dump in the hall bathroom because SOMEONE REFUSES TO GET THE PLUNGER AND UNPLUG THE DAMN TOILET.)
The new year has brought us a new little someone to love.
That right there is the newest member of our family.
Lucky him, man. Lucky him.
His name is Bandit. Ethan named him that. When we asked him why he chose that name, he responded with the following answer.
“I named him Bandit because the minute I saw him, he stole my heart.”
Ah, The Cheese&trade, it runs in The Family.
It’s been incredibly fun to watch Ethan with his new lil’ friend. Or should I say “son”? Because Ethan calls himself “Bandit’s daddy.”
He even made up a cute little song about the two of them.
“I love you. You love me. We’re a happy Son and Daddy.”
(He kills me, people. KILLS.)
Thanks to Ma’People, I now have a buttload of new workout songs in my Generic mp3 player. The suggestions were so great, THANK YOU. I have to admit that I love the songs so much that my mouth freaking WATERS when I think about them.
I still have quite a few songs to add, but since you were kind enough to take the time to leave suggestions, I figured I would post the list of Totally Awesome Workout Songs that are now loaded and ready to be used.
Tomorrow. (No. Seriously. Tomorrow.)
16
Sixteen years ago, on this very day, I was getting ready for the biggest day in my life. It was the day in which I would place The Biggest Veil Ever Known to Mankind upon my head and marry the man whom I loved.
(To boink.)
(But mostly just loved.)
(To boink.)
16 years ago on this very day was “My Wedding Day”. Also knows as “The Day of Big“.
Big Veil, Big Cake, Big Glasses , Big Bows, Big Puffy Sleeves, Big Bangs.
(Also? Big Hickies in the Big Limo on the way to the Big, Boring Reception that had NO liquor nor any dancing but! It sure did have a Big Punch Bowl with lots of alcohol free fruit punch!)
Here’s what I wrote on our 13th anniversary.
I will never forget that day, 13 years ago. I was a hot, 19 year Germican beauty with a tight body. Tony was a thin, 25 year old mexican with a head full of hair.
And we were both madly in love.
I remember it was a beautiful day.
I remember Tony’s grandmothers lobsided boobs. I remember my dad’s 3 hour sermon and rolling my eyes every 3 minutes because I wanted him to STOP ALREADY. I remember when we sang to each other, I remember the screaming baby in the background. I remember yelling at the photographer to stop taking pictures already because we needed to get to the reception and telling everyone “DON’T LISTEN TO HIM ANYMORE, JUST LEAVE, WE NEED TO LEAVE!” I remember making out to the Righteous Brothers in the back of the limo that my long lost Godfather rented for us out of guilt for not being there for me as I was growing up. I remember showing up to the reception with hickies all over my neck. I remember our boring ass reception because we weren’t allowed to have a dance, because it was against my fathers religion and I was still too scared to stand up to him. I remember the ride home, people honking at us, while I leaned out the window screaming “WOO HOO, we’re married!!!!!”, I remember getting home and NOT having sex because I was on my period and you were sick as a dog.
I also remember making up for not having sex that night by having sex 4 times a day, everyday for the next 3 months. I remember you not being able to put on your pants for work because of “rawness” to a certain area on your body.
Tony, I remember it all.
I still remember it all. Just as if it happened yesterday. And it still makes me smile. (Well, except the part about not having a dance at our reception because of my dad. That still makes me a little mad. But I’ll get over it someday.)
I recently found a box of our invitations. I do remember when I picked them out that I truly believed they were the most romantic wedding invitations to have ever been printed, but looking at them 16 years later, I have to say, they weren’t romantic at all, they were just very “Christian Bookstore”.
“Companions in laughter, friends in tears, today we shall marry and share our love forever.”
That was the saying (puke) that I had printed (puke) on the inside (puke) of our invitations (puke.) If I could have seen into our future when I had picked out our invitations, the saying would have went a little something like this:
I pee with the door open, your farts smell just like my grandpa’s farts, and yet, we love each other enough to do actually go through with this. I hope we still want to have sex with each other 16 years from now.
The good news is that we still do want to have sex with each other because we still do love each other very much, even if I do want to punch him in the neck for trying to use “big words” when we argue and even if he does have to refrain from tripping me on purpose because of the continous eye rolling.
(The romance, it’s just oozing from my fingers to the keyboard, is it NOT? One should never try writing an “anniversary post” while “pre-raggin’ it.” God.)
We don’t have any plans for “our big day” as he’s working late and I have cramps, but maybe tomorrow, we’ll finally go see “Borat” and maybe, if I’m lucky, we’ll have dinner somewhere fancy.
(Mmmmmmm buffalo chicken salad.)
I’m saving the lovey dovey stuff for the card that I shall give him later on tonight, but I did want to say “Happy Anniversary, My Sweet PigHunter. Thank you for falling in love with my underage ass, because were it not for you, I’d not have 3 of the most beautiful children to have ever walked the face of this earth. I love you.”
COOKAYS!
On the way to the hospital, my husband said “You have to wait on me hand and foot when I get home.”
“Oh really?” I replied.
“Yes. And you have to bake me cookies and serve them to me on a platter! Look! It shows you right here in the vasectomy handbook.”
Oh, how I laughed, because that? Was hilarious.
Whenever we’d talk about The Vasectomy, he would tell me about his fears. I would listen, then ever so gently remind him about the pain that I endured, three times over, to give him the children he loves so much. (Without an epidural and HELLO? I tore down there and had stitches.)
When he went in on Thursday, I knew he was scared, but when I’d ask him, he’d say “I’m ok, what you went through was SO MUCH WORSE.”
He was being sincere, I know he was, but I couldn’t help but feel like a jerk. Yeah, what I went through was worse but it was unfair of me to diminish what he would be going through just because “MINE HURT WORSE, MAN.”
My husband is admittedly a baby when he’s sick or in any amount of pain and yeah, it’s annoying, but there’s something about seeing him laying there with a bag of frozen peas on his lap that makes me want to take care of him and feel sorry for him and get him whatever his little heart desires. I LOVE that he did this for us, I love that he’s “taking it like a man” (whatever the hell that means) and I love that every time he hurts, he chants “My wife gave birth, my wife gave birth, THIS IS NOTHING, my wife gave birth.”
It kinda makes me want to jump his bones. Except, I am pretty sure that if I did that right now, I may kill him.
So, instead, I do nice things, like go to Barnes and Noble to buy him the latest copy of Shotgun News, let him control the remote, wake up every 2 hours to make sure he’s comfortable. But most importantly?
I bake him some cookies.
Finally.
“It” is done. And “It” is quite possibly the most HILARIOUS thing that has EVER happened in our marriage and I can not wait to tell you all about it.
But for now, there are bags of frozen peas to be applied, beers to be fetched, tylenols to be given, cookies to be served on a shiny platter (because THAT’S WHAT THE WIFE IS SUPPOSED TO DO! And there’s a picture in the vasectomy book to prove it!) and a pair of stitched up balls in need of a little love and um, tenderness.
*For the Record: I have full permission to post the photos.
Just Uttered…
“Oh man, I’ve got to shave this thing tonight!”
(Because, tomorrow? The Shit is getting snipped.)
*Celebrates*