Wednesday, October 31, 2012

If you're comparing your husband to a soap opera character, you'll only end up disappointed

Way back in the day....like, 17 years ago back in the day....when Tim and I were simply boyfriend and girlfriend, I used to watch all kinds of soap operas.

Days of Our Lives, The Young and the Restless, General Hospital.  You name it, I probably watched it.

And after almost every episode, I would frown and ask Tim, "How come you're not romantic like the soap opera characters?"

He'd chuckle and answer, "Sweetie, they're actors.  But if you want to write me a script, I'd be happy to say the same shit.  I can memorize lines just as well as they can."

Yeah, so the hot, sexy actors were following a script.  And, yeah, chances are they weren't really that romantic in real life but a girl can dream.

So it got me thinking....after all these years of marriage....that perhaps writing a script for my man wouldn't be such a bad idea.

Generally, this is how our conversations flow...but I've added in a script (in italics) of what he SHOULD say.

Me:  Ugh, what a day.  I'm so tired.
Tim:  So.....am I correct in assuming that I won't be getting a piece of ass tonight?

Tim:  Aw, sweetie.  You've been working so hard trying to keep everyone happy.  You just sit down, relax and put your feet up.  I'll take care of dinner and put the kids to bed.

Me:  I would love some help doing all this laundry.
Tim:  My mom never asked my dad for help with the laundry.

Tim:  Don't worry about the laundry.  You must get tired of always being responsible for everyone's clean clothes.  Let me take care of it.  You go read a book.

Me:  I've been dying to see that new movie starring Mark Wahlberg!
Tim:  Well, it'll be out on DVD before you know it.  After all, it is a Mark Wahlberg movie.

Tim:  I'll call the babysitter and arrange for us to have a date night.  And I'm happy to sit through a 2-hour movie, even though I think Mark Wahlberg is an asshole, simply because I love you.

Me:  How many times do I have to clean off this kitchen counter?  Doesn't anyone in this house know how to put things away?
Tim: But that's your job.

Tim  You're right.  The kids and I have been so irresponsible and disrespectful.  We know how many times you have to clean up after us.  We'll make an honest effort to keep the house clean.

Me:  So, did you like the chicken I made for dinner?
Tim:  It was okay.  You should find out how my mom makes her chicken.

Tim:  It was delicious, sweetie.  Best chicken I've ever tasted.  Even better than my mom's.

And, finally, in a perfect world....where unicorns fly freely through the crisp blue sky on a daily basis and bright signs point the way to the end of every rainbow, where a huge pot of gold awaits us, Tim wouldn't even need prompting from me.

He would see me standing in the kitchen...looking as exhausted as I feel...stirring a pot of spaghetti while balancing one child on my hip and helping another child with his homework, while the other kids run around the house naked, chasing one another with scissors.

My romantic husband would come up behind me and (instead of rubbing his crotch against my ass), he'd whisper ever-so-softly in my ear, "Have I told you how beautiful you are?  Have I told you how much I love and appreciate you?  You are my world.  I couldn't imagine my life without you."

Sigh....

I guess for now, until I have spare time to write these scripts, I'll have to settle for, "Hey, sweetie, I know it's been a long day for you but I'm super horny.  Do you think  you can manage staying awake for another 7.6 minutes....please??"


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Monday, October 8, 2012

Never say never....

I begged, I pleaded....I offered my soul to the devil (what's left of it, anyway) but it was to no avail.

"Please, guys....let's just get an ice cream cake this year for your birthday.  I'll make sure it's super cool and any flavor you want," I offered.

However, my appeal for mercy had fallen on deaf ears.

Cole and Bella, my first born twins, had already made up their mischievous little minds.

"Mommy," Bella announced.  "Your cakes are so awesome, though.  Plus, the people who make the cakes at the bakery don't care about us the way you do.  When you make our birthday cakes, it shows us how much you care!"

"And," Cole added.  "You're always saying you want to create happy childhood memories for us, right?"

Sighing with abandon, I realized they had me exactly where they wanted me.

The little shits.

They had guilted me into baking them each a birthday cake....again.....this year.

How many times had I said I was done making cakes?  Too many to count, probably.

"If I agree to make you each a cake, it's going to be something very simple and small!" I stated.

They both nodded their heads in agreement.

Simple and small, my ass.

Do these cakes look simple and small to you??

Justin Bieber iPod cake


Shark cake 



And yes, it was Cole who requested that the shark on his cake chow down on Justin Bieber....gory, dripping blood and all.

Bella's just a little bit traumatized after seeing me rip the head off of her beloved JB doll.  I promised I could put it back on.

If I'm struck down by lightening tomorrow, you'll know why.

So, one day in the future, if my children should ever accuse me of not caring or never doing anything special for them, you can bet your sweet ass that I'll be shoving these pictures in their adorable faces, while screaming, "Would I spend 78 minutes carving a damn shark out of homemade rice krispy treats for you if I didn't care?  Would I spend almost half a day cutting out itsy-bitsy black zebra stripes for a freakin' Justin Bieber iPod cake if I didn't care?!  Would I spend 4 precious days to up to my ears in cake mix, buttercream frosting, fondant and baking tools if I didn't care?!"

Really....what could they say to that?

Never mind.

We are talking about MY kids, after all.  And everyone knows they always seem to get the last word.


**  Now that I have my life back again, I'm looking forward to visiting your blogs and getting caught up on the latest in your lives!!


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Monday, October 1, 2012

And so it begins....

8 years ago today, I was laying in a hospital bed, bigger than a beached whale.  Hooked up to all kinds of monitors, praying that our miracle babies stayed in my womb just a few more weeks...blah, blah, blah, blah.....

You all know how it goes.

Right about this time of year, I have to give Cole and Bella the play-by-play of all the events leading up to their birth at 32 weeks at 12:27 am and 12:29 am on October 2, 2004.  

They always love to hear the story and each year I become a little more animated, based on the fact that they can understand more of the details now.

Basically, I make them feel guilty for what I had to go through to bring them into this world.  Oh, and let's not forget the fact that they pretty much ruined my body.

Who said guilt isn't a beautiful thing??  Doesn't every mother want to hear her child finally apologize for turning her body into a scar-ridden, saggy-skinned milk machine??

Or maybe I'm the only one who's willing to admit that.

Regardless, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.  There is no doubt in my mind.

Every 22-gauge needle in my ass was worth it.  Every shot in my belly, all the Heparin bruises, all the ultrasounds, all the tests and procedures, the weeks of bed rest, all the magnesium sulfate and nifedipine....all the tears, heartache and grief....it was all worth it, a hundred times over.

Hell, even allowing perfect strangers to stare at my vagina was worth it.

 Cole, you are my first born and my first love.  I will never forget how tiny you were at 4 pounds, 8 ounces....bigger than your twin sister....but still so incredibly small.  My heart grew larger that day, for sure...and it continues to grow and grow with each and every day that passes.  

You have grown up so much over these last 8 years.  Not only are you breathtakingly handsome, but you are intelligent, gifted in so many ways, creative and thoughtful.  You can light up an entire room with your bright blue eyes and your wide smile.  Your laughter is like no other sound I've ever heard and it makes my heart happy to hear it.  While you are very sensitive and strive for perfection, you know that whatever you put your heart and soul into will be good enough.  

May you continue to grow up and happy, healthy and strong.  And I pray that your dreams always come true.


Bella, you are my only daughter and truly my best friend.  At a mere 3 pounds, 6 ounces, you resembled a tiny doll when you were born.  Your head fit in the palm of my hand and I will never forget how fragile you seemed.  But even then, as I watched you take every single breath, I knew the days would come when we would enjoy pedicures together and long bike rides.

We love so many of the same things and that is what connects us.  You have my sense of humor and my dark sarcasm.  But you also have sass and attitude, even at 8 years old...which honestly frightens me because I know one day you'll be a teenager and it won't be as cute anymore.

You tell me all the time that I will always be your best friend and I pray that that statement always stays true.  You are stunning to look at, with your curly blonde hair and sparkly green eyes....but you are also sensitive, thoughtful and so bright, so witty.  Your self confidence blows me away and, to be honest, there are times when I'm envious and wish I could have even just 1/4 of your confidence and belief in myself.

My hope for you is that you always strive to reach your dreams and that you always believe in yourself.

Happy 8th birthday to both of you!!  I love you both with all my heart and soul!!  And I am blessed to be your mother!


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I figure that if the children are alive when my husband gets home at the end of the day, I've done my job.

----Roseanne Barr



 
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