Thursday, October 25, 2007

So I've had better ideas..

OK, so I like to run. I try to do it at least four times a week over my lunch break. I head over to the gym, watch my soap opera, and get a good run in. So yesterday was no different than any other day. I trudge over to the gym at lunch and head for the bathroom to change. Except I notice I have TWO shirts and no shorts. Nice. That ain't gonna work. (Keep in mind that last week, I got to the gym with one pair of shorts and a freaking pair of underwear. Yep, evidently I have my head stuck so far up my ass I can now wear underwear as a shirt.)

I have to leave the gym without getting my run in. BAH. I do not like this, not one bit. I decide I'll run when I get home - I like to run when the weather is nice and cool anyway. Except when I get home, I've got three kids needing something or another and a husband who is really in a foul mood. By the time I am finally able to run, it is dark out. And I mean, can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face dark. Luckily, Mr. Who is gone, otherwise he would have never let me leave the house alone. He's kind of paranoid like that.

I take off into the night, armed with just my Ipod - oh, and a can of pepper spray. Mr. Who gave me the pepper spray about a hundred years ago, not even sure what to do with it, but I probably could have beat someone over the head with it at the very least.

Running in town was fine. There are street lights. But my town is pretty small. So I was going to have to venture outside city limits. Fine, no problem. As I start my run down one of our county highways, I notice there are NO LIGHTS. None. A flashlight probably would have been a better idea than the pepper spray at this point. Oh well, I trudge along.

I'm actually enjoying my pitch black run. There aren't a lot of cars, but every time one does happen to pass me by, I panic thinking I'm about to be kidnapped. At one point on my deserted highway run, I realize cars and potential kidnappers are not my problem. Wild animals are going to be my problem.

It is harvest season which means every animal that was on the ark is running out of the fields at a break neck pace. And I can't see my hand in front of my face. What the hell am I going to do when a raccoon or a skunk or god forbid, a mouse cross my path?

I don't think I have ever run so fast in my life. I couldn't get to my front door fast enough. Wanna hear a funny? I think I'm going to do it again tonight. It was a great adreline rush!

Monday, October 15, 2007

Calling All Shoppers!!

I need help. I'm in a conundrum (is that how you spell that word?). I have two styles that I rely on - my grunge look, which is slicks and running shoes, or my "other look" - which is basically cute jeans, a dressier style shirt, and heels. When we go to the bars, this is what I wear. At work, same thing.

Here's my dilemma. We are tailgating/going to a football game/partying at our house afterwards this weekend. Fine, no biggie, right? Except we have about 20 members of Mr. Who's family coming to join us. Mr. Who has two sisters my age who are super cute and always dressed to the nines. One sister, we'll call her N, I love dearly. The other one, we'll call her P, I have had issues with in the past. She is very competitive and always is trying to "out-do" me. This does not sit well with me. I am always the winner, dammit!!

My point - I need a cute casual/dressy outfit to wear this weekend! Something that will make P realize I will always be the winner. Please, someone find me something cute to wear - that is football appropriate but does NOT entail wearing running shoes. And right now, money is not an object as I have stolen Mr. Who's credit card and will deal with the consequences later.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Man Tag

Tagged by Kate...

1. Who is your man? Mr. Who.

2. How long have you been married? May 18, 1996. So 11 years. Yeah, yeah, do the math, The Comedian was born before we got married. We wanted to make sure we still liked each other after trying out that "having a kid" thing.

3. How long dated? This is going to sound pathetic, but since we were 16 in 1989. Oh my Lord, next month it will be 18 years!!

4. How old is your man? He is 33 - until next week. I am older than him by about 9 months.

5. Who eats more? Before he started getting all buff and athletic and caring about what he was eating, it was him. Now that he has lost a few pounds, I can probably out-eat him. How sad.

6. Who said "I love you" first? Pretty sure it was him.

7. Who is taller? Mr. Who is 5' 8" (and a half, if you ask him). I am 5' 4". I do have some kick ass stilettos that put me at eye level with him, though.

8. Who sings better? Ha!! We could both make someone's ears bleed.

9. Who is smarter? That would be me. I love getting into arguments with him because I can totally "word fuck" him and get him backed into a corner.

10. Whose temper is worse? His. By a long shot. He freaks out over ANYTHING, all the time.l I could count 10 things tonight alone that he freaked out about. I, on the other hand, laugh at his temper, because I am always on an even keel. The happy pills help that, though.

11. Who does the laundry? Usually me, because if I let him do it, he will dry all my shit, and I hate that.

12. Who takes out the garbage? Mr. Who, The Comedian, and The Boy. It's a collaborative effort, apparantly.

13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? He does. No rhyme or reason for why.

14. Who pays the bills? He pays for the things that are going to keep me safe, i.e. the house, utilities, etc. I pay for the fun things, like groceries - yeah, that's a lot of fun - NOT.

15. Who is better with the computer? Probably me, but only because he has no patience.

16. Who mows the lawn? He does. He is completely OCD about the lawn and landscaping. We have a perfectly capable 13 year old who WANTS to do it and Mr. Who refuses to give up control. What if the lines don't look like a perfect plaid pattern? The world may collapse in on itself.

17. Who cooks dinner? Most of the time me, because if I ask him to, he will just ask me a million questions and it's easier to do it myself. I think he does this on purpose.

18. Who drives when you are together? Always him. Unless he's really drunk. Then me.

19. Who pays when you go out? Usually him, as I never have any $ in my account - we keep separate accounts - yes, I know it's weird, but it works for us.

20. Who is most stubborn? Probably a tie. Although I usually cave before he does, so I guess that would make him more stubborn.

21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? I am never wrong.

22. Whose parents do you see the most? Definitely his. My family is a tad disfunctional, to put it mildly.

23. Who kissed who first? I made the first move.

24. Who asked who out? We were in high school, and it just kind of happened - don't think there was any "official" asking.

25. Who proposed? Mr. Who did - it was very sweet.

26. Who is more sensitive? Without a doubt, me. I wonder if he has a sensitive bone in his body.

27. Who has more friends? We share friends, so I would guess that's a tie. We have a bunch of couples we hang out with on a fairly regular basis.

28. Who has more siblings? He has three "full" siblings. I have 3 half siblings, 2 ex-stepbrothers, and two stepsisters and another stepbrother that I have seen only a handful of times because my mom was married to their father for just a few months before he was killed in a car accident. You're opening a can of worms asking about my family history, I'm telling you...

29. Who wears the pants in the family? We'll just let him believe it's him. But we all know better.

And now I TAG: Gretchen

Friday, October 5, 2007

Who says you can't fit a car in your mouth?

So today The Comedian had a consultation with the orthodontist. Mr. Who and I both knew this was inevitable, as The Comedian was an avid thumbsucker when he was younger and his teeth are well, completely FUBAR. Now that he is a teenager, we figured we'd have a go at this braces thing.

The Comedian gets all examined by Dr. Dishrag - seriously that's what his personality resembles. Dr. Dishrag proceeds to tell me that The Comedian's mouth is like a wet dream to him. Not his exact words, but after he went on to tell me that The Comedian pretty much has every dental problem known to man, I assumed it. Dr. Dishrag says that on a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst cases he sees, The Comedian is an ELEVEN. Well ain't I lucky? I felt like I had won the lottery at that moment.

And how much was it going to cost me to get The Comedian's mouth looking even relatively normal? A bargain, I tell you - only FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS!! What, I don't have enough cash? No problem, I can pay a third on the day he has them put on and pay the rest of in small monthly installments for eighteen months. Being that I don't have much of a choice, I guess I'll have to grin (hey, at least when I grin, my freaking teeth are straight!) and bare it.

I did tell The Comedian to kiss his wishes for a car goodbye, as he'll have all that money in his mouth for the next thirty months.

I will probably have to give the other two up for adoption if their teeth are fucked up, too. The thought of spending fifteen thousand dollars on tiny pieces of metal glued to their teeth literally makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

So she'll wear diapers to the prom...

So The Princess has passed her third birthday and we still have a stock of diapers. This was not part of the plan. The Comedian and The Boy were both hard to train, but still had it figured out by their third birthday. The Princess was my last hope, she was going to be the brilliant one and have this figured out long before now. Who am I kidding, she knows she's the boss. Last night, she came to me and the following conversation transpired:

Princess: Mommy, I have to go potty.
Me: (ecstatic beyond belief, could this really be it?) - OK, let's get on the potty, Princess!
(Princess sits there for about 1.3 seconds and decides she is done).
Me again: Princess, are you sure you don't want to try some more?
Princess: Nope, I went. I'm all done.

She proceeds to walk about 3 steps out of the bathroom and announces, "Mommy, I just went pee in my pull-up!"
Me: WHY didn't you do that on the potty?
Princess: Because peeing in my pull-up makes my privates feel better.

Well, DUH! Why didn't I think of that? I think now it's pretty much inevitable that we will need to be stocking up on Depends for our distant future with her. A little backstory. She was trained - for a week or so. Right before her third birthday, I promised her a bike once she went on the potty. So we had a week or so of her going on the potty about once or twice a day much to her dismay. For some reason, she did not like to do this and it was a battle to get her to sit down for more than a half a second at a time. By the end of the week, we noticed that she had the ability to stay dry during the day, but was only pottying once or twice a day. Yes, Mr. Who and I both thought this was odd, but we figured we had a prodigy on our hands as she had some incredible control and obviously, a huge bladder. However, as the week progressed, she started to get whiny and clingy and just wasn't acting like herself. One day, she woke in the morning completely dry and stayed dry until about 5:00 in the afternoon. That's right folks, she had gone about 20 HOURS without peeing. How's that for control? Of course, at this point, she is freaking out, won't sit down on the potty, and Mr. Who and I are now convinced that she has some serious health issues, at a minimum. So I rush her to the ER (I can't take Mr. Who with me because he freaks out in situations like this). We get there, of course they need to cath her, because we all figure it's a UTI. They have to try TWICE to get the cath in, while I'm pinning her down and she's screaming uncontrollably (who wouldn't!) She begins to pee everywhere - all over the nurses, the table, herself. They catch some of this and test it. What do you know, she doesn't have a freaking THING wrong with her. The doctor tells me she is very strong willed and that I am to stop all training methods immediately, as she knows what she is doing and will only do it on her schedule. OK, it's pretty clear this doctor doesn't know me too well because when it comes to a battle of the wills, I do not lose. Especially to a three year old princess. BUT, because I am a good mommy, I listen to the doctor and we revert back to diapers. This was three months ago. She still is winning the battle.