Saturday, June 27, 2009

Splish, splash wasn't planning on takin' a bath

So my hubby left for his vacation this past week. He left on the morning of my birthday. We had a huge storm that same morning and lost our power.
Just before he left, we still did not have power and so I jokingly asked him if as a birthday present to me would he check the sump pump and make sure the basement wasn't flooding before he headed out.
Our basement has never been so much as damp.
It had flooded.
My hubby must have made 50 trips up and down our stairs hauling 5 gallon buckets of water before the power came back on and the water began to recede.
I sent him on his way to the Great Northern Wilderness and proceeded the clean-up without him.
The laundry room was hit hardest. It was, of course, Am-Vets pick up day and I had sorted through several bags of clothes to give for donation. Thankfully the donation stuff was already bagged and I was able to just chuck those out onto the front porch. The rest of the piles did not fair so well.
All in all it was nothing a lot of laundry and some serious steam-vac power didn't fix.
I set up probably seven fans in the basement to dry out the rest of the dampness in the carpet. The thought of mold gives me a serious fright.
So, while it didn't qualify as the best birthday ever. I am sure it could have been worse.
The kids were awesome during the whole thing and even sang me the happy birthday song while we ate frozen pizza for lunch. What more could I ask for.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Let's get Physical

When my hubby was lamenting over the recent loss of his regular workout partner, I threw out the idea that maybe I could take his place.
My hubby gave an enthusiastic acceptance to my offer. So enthusiastic in fact, that I am starting to doubt all those times that he has assured me that, "No you do not look fat in those jeans."
Either that or he just really loves spending some quality time together. We'll just go with that for now.
Today was the first day of our workout. We have a workout room in our basement, so it's really hard to come up with excuses as to why I can't make it. It's surprisingly difficult to lie to someone who is hovering over you with a sweatband and water bottle. I tried. I failed.
The first hurdle was the start time. My hubby is a thirty-something stuck in the time schedule of septuagenarian. In his ideal world we would all be up by 4am, dinner by 4pm and in bed no later than 7:30pm.
We agreed on a 5:45 wake up call and a start time of 6:00am. When I drug my body down stairs and he was doing an annoying bounce around the kitchen, I reminded him that I was in fact NOT a morning person, and could he please stop with the freakin' enthusiasm.
He did and we headed to the basement to start the workout. The next glitch came when he put the channel on 'Sports Center'. One raised eyebrow later, and he switched it up to Animal Planet. Ironically the show was on hippos, and I felt like they were trying to tell me something like "who cares what you're watching, get your big ass on the treadmill bee-atch."
The workout ending up being great. I would have cussed my hubby once when he told me I might want to increase my speed on the treadmill through that particular circuit, but I was too out of breathe to form any meaningful words.
I made it through and the hubby is happy to have someone to workout with again. He is even happier that I agreed to 'Sports Center' for tomorrow for our viewing pleasure. I can't take any more hippos yelling rude comments at me just yet.

Friday, June 12, 2009

A letter to the Hubby. Here's hoping that getting this off my chest makes me feel less bitter and I can stop flippin' you the bird behind your back.

Dear Hubby,
Your vacation is just around the corner. I want you to go and enjoy your time off. You have earned it. Seriously. Go. The kids and I will be fine.
Don't worry about the fact that you are taking our car, putting a bajillion miles on it and leaving me stuck with the car where the kids all sit in one row and beat each other senseless before we even back out of the driveway. No Problem. We will figure it out.
I hope you fall in the freakin' ice cold Canadian lake have fun fishing with your family. After all, family vacations are important.
The fact that you are leaving on my birthday and not going to be here for Father's day, no big deal. There is always next year.
I am fully aware of the fact that the fishing trip was planned just before we got the dates for the beach trip. You could not control the fact that the dates over-lapped. That is why I am trying my hardest but failing miserably at not holding any of this against you. Even if one phone call to see if the dates would overlap could have prevented this predicament. No biggie.
I'm over it. I am about to get my 'staycation' on baby!
It is true that I get a little tiny bit teary eyed when I see some of these pictures from last year. It is hard to imagine a reason for which we would pass on a FREE stay in a million dollar house on the beach.
Of, course I hadn't considered fishing in cold, damp weather. Apparently, that is reason enough.
Go. Have fun. I really hope you catch the swine flu a whopper. Maybe next year we will make it back to the beach.

All My Love and a good bit of sarcasm,
Your Wife

After looking at these pictures again, I might just load the kids and go without the Hubby.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

911 what's your emergency? Sucky baseball? We'll be right out.

I am always worn out after baseball night, because I expend a lot of mental energy trying not to yell harassing comments at my son.
"Swing the damn bat."
"If you watch one more strike fly by without swinging, you will have to find someone else to pay for Fall ball, because it won't be me."
"Wake up in the out-field."
"I've seen your sister throw harder than that."
You get the idea. I spend a good deal of my time chasing the two kids not on the field around the park and thinking of nice ways to tell the one on the field he's sucking it up.
The hubby throws the kid 800 pitches a night. He hits 790 of them. Still he freezes up in the game and it just gets ugly. Last night, they were behind by one run. Two outs, bases loaded. My sweet boy watched as three strikes flew by. Never swung the bat. Never. Swung.
Needless to say, I was already in a stellar mood when some woman stomped up to me, hands on her hips, "Just so you know, your son just pushed the 911 button."
"Um, okay. I'll talk to him."
"He would NOT listen when I told him to stop. The police will have to come out. You need to wait and tell them what HE did" she said as she jerked her head towards my flapping, circle running son.
"Okay. We'll wait and explain.Thanks."
She stood there staring, hands still on hips, eyebrows raised, lips pursed. I think she was expecting me to give Miles the shake down. Give it to him good.
It wasn't going to happen. I didn't even want to try to explain to this ninny that, oh he's autistic, so he wasn't ignoring you he probably just didn't realize you were talking to him you arrogant bitch.
I took great pleasure in watching her stomp off, mad that I had not properly disciplined my little heathen.
When she was gone, I explained the button to Miles. We waited for the police, glad it wasn't a real emergency as he took his sweet-ass time getting there.
We did not get thrown in jail.
I told Miles that he may need to use that button again next week, because if his brother watches one more strike go by and doesn't swing the bat, I just might beat him with it.

Please note that I don't ever actually yell those comments at my son. I just wish I could. I did however really threaten to beat him with the bat. He knew I was kidding. For the most part. Also, I don't take calling 911 lightly. I just didn't appreciate the way the woman behaved.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

A few reasons why I love my hubby

I love him because he is not too cool to play 'Pretty, Pretty Princess'. This game is actually fun and even the boys like to play. We are not supposed tell any of Caleb's friends that he plays the game.

As much as we love the princess game we try really hard not to put any emphasis on how we look on the outside. It's what you are like on the inside that counts. We were at a party last weekend for a First Communion and my Hubby was trying to get Stella in the house so we could go. She was tired and cranky and told him, "No."
A friend of the hostess was standing nearby and said, "Oh, Stella, what a pretty dress you have on. You are so, so pretty and pretty girls don't say 'No'."
Thank goodness it was the hubby standing there and not me. I would not have been able to refrain from some sort of smart-ass comment. 'Pretty girls don't say no'. That might be the worst piece of advice I have ever heard given to my children.
I love my hubby because he waited until we left the party to tell me this story.

The hubby won this round. He is indeed a pretty princess.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Party day. We always celebrate Miles' and Stella's birthdays together. They are 2 years and five days apart in age. They don't seem to mind sharing their day. So far. This was the first year Miles had true friends to invite. I got all teary with each RSVP. The parents of his friends were wonderful and said how they were always so impressed with Miles and how much their kids enjoyed having him as a friend.

The gifts. Stella loved it. Miles wanted to be done after each gift he opened. We powered through his friends gifts and then let them return to playing. He is gracious and says thank you, but the kid is really happy to just be. Stella and the girls poured over each gift and they had to be passed around so everyone could see and touch everything.

The giant crocodile. It was really cool. The adults thought it would be fun to have a few cocktails and turn it into a water slide. We refrained. The kids loved it. We loved it because it entertained the kids and it was free. The friend who owns the limo company that my hubby drives for also owns the 'Jumpee Thing' company. He very generously gives us our choice of bounce houses for the kid's party.

Miles enjoying the crocodile. At the end of the day, I scrounged up some left over hot dogs and reheated some corn on the cob for the kids to eat for dinner. Stella declared it to be the best part of the whole day. Go figure.

Monday, June 1, 2009


I am wiped out. Physically, mentally, just done. I can not wait for school to end. I have myself convinced that once school is done for this year I will suddenly regain some of my energy.
Something has been sucking my life-force lately. I have had decisions to make and therapist to line up and summer camps and swim lessons to schedule, and I can barely do it all.
I finally went and had my second blood draw last week. Apparently, not all is completely well with my hemoglobin. Is that right? Hemoglobin? Something was off. Looks like anemia, but my iron was okay. I don't know?
I think this may be part of the reason I am so tired all the time. Really. Freakin. Tired. Today I was cleaning up books from the floor and thought I would just rest my wee head for a moment. Sound. Asleep.
I am just scooting by for now. I have some great pictures to post, but not so much the gumption to do so. I will soon. Once I have rested my wee head some more.