Friday, May 25, 2007

"I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine."

Married life.
It's been under a week, and... uh... well, it feels no different, except now, every few hours, Chris and I look at each other, giggle, and say, "We're married!"

Our honeymoon consisted of one whole entire day off together- well, technically half a day, because we had to pick Maddy up later that afternoon. We went and watched Shrek the Third, and as I sat sandwiched between the two of them, I found it hard to stay focused on the movie because I kept staring at the person to my right or left, feeling overwhelmingly blessed.

By the next morning, the "overwhelmingly blessed" turned into "overwhelmingly overwhelmed," as I looked around the house and made a mental list of all the chores that had to be done. I still had a few days off from work, but Chris was leaving to rejoin the workforce at 7:30am on Tuesday. I took a break from packing Maddy's lunch to walk my husband (I can't even type that without a giggle) to the door that morning, something that made me feel very June Cleaver. The only problem was that about ten steps from the front door, the realization hit me that This house isn't going to clean itself... and I'm the one with the day off today... oh eff me. I've got to do it? As I said goodbye to Chris, I couldn't stop the tears from falling, the big fat wet hot tears sprung from the hormonal well of pregnancy. I was already lonely before his car was shifted into Drive.

I spent most of Tuesday cleverly avoiding doing most of the housework. I even went into my work to see if I could pick up a shift! I ended up spending the afternoon shopping for new carpet with my grandma, with enough time to accomplish a few of the least deplorable tasks on my housework to-do list.

Wednesday, it was unavoidable. I had to clean my closet. Really, I had to, because people were coming out in the afternoon to measure my bedrooms for new carpet. I really wanted to avoid having someone opening my closet doors to measure the square footage and losing their life, suffocated under an avalanche of mismatched Vans and clothes I haven't been able to wear in 6 months. There is no motivator for housework greater than the chance a perfect stranger might die upon entering your home! And, let's be honest, I can't afford BOTH the new carper AND a lawsuit. Let's be honest, I can't even really afford the carpet.

Ever since Tuesday morning, I've been arm-wrestling with my hormones and have consistently lost. Ever the glutton for punishment, I declare "TWO OUTTA THREE!" and lose again. "BEST OF FIVE!!!" Then, my Self-Esteem decides it can't handle watching the slaughter from the sidelines, so they pipe up, "I play winner!" My hormones then proceed to mop the floor with my Self-Esteem. I've gone through the last few days unwittingly doing an Eeyore impression as my punishment.

I worked a little the last two days, which really didn't serve any purpose other than annoying me. (I gave the play-by-play over at zee other blog, the one where I just complain a lot, you know, that one?) Now I'm self-medicating with Fiona Apple (Extraordinary Machine on repeat!) and trying to distract myself from the daydreams I'm having about French Fries wearing ketchup shoes and can-can dancing from the plate to my mouth. Yup, daydreaming about junk food, despite the fact that I can actually feel my toes swelling as I sit here.

I'm off to go elevate my lower extremities before I have two pillow feet and ten Vienna Sausage toes.

Mmmmm.... sausage...

Thursday, May 24, 2007

A generation gap so wide, you'd need a pair of Acme Rocket Skates to cross it.

Upon Seeing A Roadrunner:

Me: Look, Maddy! A roadrunner! Like the cartoo---
Maddy: Like High Speed Online!


(For those of you saying "Huh?", our cable internet is called Roadrunner.)

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Hitched, without a hitch.



As of Sunday, May 20th, at 2:49pm, I am married.

Everything went perfectly (insert dreamy sigh here). I don't have enough time to elaborate at the moment- I'm not even at home- but I did just want to check in with everyone in the Blogosphere and assure you that I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.

More later, that's a pinky swear.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

It's like muzak for the eyes!


I've got nothing to say. Here's a picture of Brady, post-haircut.

For the old man in all of us!

Mapquest finds you the lowest gas prices in your area!

Monday, May 14, 2007

Smile like a saint, curse like a sailor


According to an episode of Spongebob Squarepants, there are Seven Bad Words in the world, but thirteen if you're a sailor. Madelynn asked me about the truth of that yesterday. I told her that there were probably more bad words than that, depending on who you asked. She told me that she tried counting and only got up to eight, so there was no way that there could be thirteen bad words.

Today, while bombarded with a fresh piece of wedding-related info, I... um... well, I kinda lost it. I was unloading my rage on the phone when Maddy walked into my room. I immediately shut myself up.

"On second thought, I think there just might be thirteen after all," she deadpanned, "maybe more." Then she turned around in her sparkley mary-janes and walked out of the room, adding, "You could teach Mr. Krabbs a thing or two."

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Cracked Up

Today kicked my ass.
I was running on two hours of intermittent sleep and not prepared to deal with not one, but two small crises in Wedding Planning Land.

I laid as low as I could, tried not to flip out. I only officially lost it once (on the phone with my grandma, of course) and came dangerously close to having a breakdown in the middle of the baking supply aisle of Albertson's while thinking to myself, "How the hell am I supposed to get through this without my trusty companion, Junk Food?" UNFAIR.

Maddy and I both had friends over for dinner- Maddy's friend Jade and my friend Andrea. We started talking about the concept of "If Mama Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy!" (which, lucky for me, is a notion completely understood by Chris). Maddy had her own take on the witticism, which was "If Mama Ain't Happy, I CRACK UP!"

HOW DOES SHE FIT A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD IN THERE?

As the older two of us were doing the dishes together and the younger two were fighting over whether they were going to watch Freaky Friday or Annie, I turned to Andrea, and in reference to Maddy said, "Where did I go wrong?"

Without hesitation, Andrea replied, "You mean, 'How Did You Manage To Give Birth To Yourself?'"

Oh. Good point. On the bright side, Maddy wrote down some nice things as part of the Mother's Day gift she worked on in school. For example, she loves it when I "make chocolate cip cookies" and I'm smart because... well, see for yourself!
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Art Show(-off)

(You have to click to see the full image... my apologies on behalf of blogger.com.)
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Last Thursday, we went to check out my brother's artwork on display for the senior high school Art Show. First of all, it is abundantly clear that I got NONE of the artistic genes that run abundant in our gene pool. Both my grandmother and mother are extremely talented artists, and the only artistic talent I have is nice penmanship. Sometimes. All the actual look-how-well-I-can-represent-actual-things artistic talent went directly to my brother.

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So, yeah, he can draw. I'D LIKE TO SEE HIM CARRY A BABY. ;)

Love you Ernie, and I'm way more proud than I am jealous.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

I can see clearly now the rain is... on my parade.

I'm just going to throw this out here: without the help of ophthalmology, Chris is blind as a bat. Every once in a while, he'll throw on his old pair of glasses, but I'm not sure they're that much help, seeing as how the prescription was written when fanny packs were cool. The time finally came for Chris to get contacts.

While he was having his eyes examined, I was running wedding-related errands with my grandmother. When Chris was finished with his appointment, he called me up.

"Babe, I'm not sure if you knew this or not, but we're... surrounded... by MOUNTAINS!"

I couldn't help laughing out loud. Yeah, I was kinda aware of that. (We're surrounded by a 360 degree view of mountain ranges, even from our backyard.)

After I hung up with Chris, I had to explain to my grandmother what had caused the guffaw that made her jump out of her Reeboks. A look of panic swept across her face. "His eyesight was that bad? Oh no!"

"Isn't that hilarious?" I said. "I'm glad he finally got around to getting his eyes checked."

"Oh, me too," said my grandma. "And it's a good thing he's got two weeks to get used to how you really look before the wedding!"

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Sometimes, the grass is greenest in your own front yard.


I'm going to be honest with you here. I was Cranky Mom yesterday. I was impatient, irritable, not Very Much Fun At All Mom. I was looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with my daughter tonight to compensate for my microscopic fuse yesterday. We ignored the chores that needed to be done. We neglected the television. We shunned (most of) her homework.

An old friend of ours asked about Madelynn, and it took me a while to figure out how to answer. She's absolutely the most complex child I've ever met. She can be deliriously silly and then completely morose in the same sixty-second time span. She's got teen angst flowing through her seven year old body... she is very hard work and the thing I am most proud of, and also the biggest challenge I face. I can see myself through her. I am petrified of her growing even a day older.

But, for today, I pushed away the sadness of knowing that one day this will all be different. For today, I enjoyed her as my seven year old. When I tucked her in bed tonight, I sat on the edge of her bed a little longer, hugged a little tighter, and lingered at the door for a few minutes longer.

Goodnight, Moo. Thank you for today.

Eye of the storm...

Even though Andrea's up to her ears in stress, she's still managed to kick some photo-bloggy ass this week. Please pay her site scout a visit!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program.

Friday, May 04, 2007

And the inheritance goes to...


This morning, I was getting Brady dressed in a t-shirt that has the word "MOM" on a scroll through a flaming heart, kinda with a Sailor Jerry tattoo vibe to it. Brady asked why it said "MOM" in the heart, and I said, "Because you love me!" Brady looked back down at the shirt and said, "And what's all the fire for, Mom? OH I KNOW! Cuz you're HOT!"

Chalk one up for the Shaggy One. Maddy's got to step up her game a few notches! Maddy's not really the complimenting type. Last weekend, the kids and I had dinner with Andrea, and on the table was an advertisement for a Mother's Day Vacation. Maddy picked it up and read it. "Mom Get Away!" (It was supposed to be "Get-A-Way".) "Yeah, I totally know what they mean!"

Thursday, May 03, 2007

AND ANOTHER ONE!

Maddy: "Mom, tomorrow is a Free Dress Day!"
Me: "Oh really? Why?"
Maddy: "Because Saturday is Oh-ho-dee-hi-ho."
Me: "WHAT?"
Maddy: "Oh-ho-dee-hi-ho. It's a Mexican holiday, Mom."
Me: "Do you mean Cinco de Mayo?"
Maddy: "Maybe. Dangit, I'm a quarter Mexican. I'm supposed to know these things."

The Bard is rolling in his grave.

Last night, as Maddy and I were working together on her homework, she started quoting Hamlet.

"Where'd you learn that, Maddy?"
"I don't even know where I get this stuff, Mom. Who says that anyway?"
"It's from a play called Hamlet, written by William Shakespear."
"William Shakespear? Is that Britney Spears' dad?"

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

I would gobble him up, but Painfully Adorable Three Year Olds aren't in my diet.

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Nerves of Tin Foil

I am being tested.

I feel like Jesus, when he was up on a mountain being tempted by Satan. Only... well, I'm obviously not Jesus. (I'm hilariously far from perfect and couldn't grow a beard if I tried.) And the Tempter in question isn't wearing a red unitard and carrying a pitchfork- it's shaped like a sucrose molecule. And I would never say "Get Behind Me, Satan!" because everyone knows sugar automatically goes to your ass anyway. So scratch that analogy. Point being, I'm really trying to stick to the diet that Dr. Hitler Jacome (and company) suggested. But I'd just like to know HOW I'm supposed to do that when the odds are stacked against me.

First of all, Del Taco chose this month to unveil the Orange and Cream Milkshake.
Then, I found a huge Costco-sized box of Brownie Mix in my cupboard.
NOW, they opened a donut shop en route from our house to Maddy's school. And my daughter is aware of it. Very aware of it. Very aware as in asking me seven times a day if we can go before school.

I hit my breaking point. I crumbled... like the topping of the cinnamon roll I consumed in less than twelve seconds. If you happen to be in the neighborhood of Country Club and Monterey, go to Swiss Donut for the Crumb-Cinnamon Roll. Unlike myself, you'll probably be able to enjoy it without hearing the phantom screams of an entire team of medical professionals in your head. If you happen to see some woman, quite pregnant, shoving donuts in her mouth like a fiend as she argues with invisible people, don't worry. It's just me.