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Traffic stoppers
Early yesterday evening there was especially heavy traffic at Hwy 290. Come to find out that at the exit there were two HOT men trying to fix a flat. One of them had taken off his shirt and was only wearing his slacks, the second one continued to wear his shirt but loosely, completely unbuttoned and untucked. Every woman and girl in their car was breaking neck to get a glimpse of these super hot Texas men, including myself. Hubba, hubba. Had I not been drooling so hard I would have had the better sense to join several women in taking their pictures on my camera phone. That’s OK, I’ve locked their images in my memory.
The lies parents tell…
When we first moved to Texas several years ago those ugly Croc shoes were very trendy. I abhor the things. They give me an itch to go clog dancing. So when the girls each asked me for a pair I told them no. They whined and complained that “everybody wore them, even their classmates”. I refused and finally told them that Asians don’t wear Crocs. Since there aren’t many Asians in Austin I figured they would be hard fetched to prove me wrong. Besides at the time they were only five years old. Needless to say, they stopped asking.
This evening we were at the mall and saw the newest style of Croc sandals with fur. One of the girls stopped to admire a pair, but the other reminded her “Asians don’t wear Crocs remember?”
Oh no…
I think my youngest son’s new girlfriend might be a bit dense. I was cleaning his room and found a handmade card with big block letters that said, “To my favrite asain, I *heart* you.”
In the least, the poor girl is spelling challenged.
1-800-ALGEBRA SUCKS
Believe it or not, I actually like math, I’m good at it. At least when I’m completely focused on it, I’m good at it. But how many working adults with kids have the time to devote to locking down polynomial division and fundamental theorems? As it is I spend several nights a week up until the wee hours trying to teach myself what I didn’t understand in the last class.
I wish there was a 24 hour algebra hotline. I could call them and we could discuss rational functions and inequalities until I actually knew what I was doing. *Sigh* Next semester it’s business statistics. *Urgh* Maybe I should just change my major to theater.
Dinner at my house
Dinner is a favorite time at our house. We have a wipe board in the kitchen and every week we post that week’s dinner menu. My husband is a phenomenal cook which gives everyone more incentive to look forward to it. Unfortunately, since the children outnumber the adults our dinner conversation revolves more around pop culture or kid gossip and less politics or current events.
Here are some of the funnier comments overheard at my dinner table.
Regarding Justin’s 5 million plus Twitter followers. “I think Justin Bieber could beat Obama if he ran for President.”
“I don’t care if you can’t help it, if you fart at this table one more time I’m going to kick your *ss!”
After my brother shared his Kahlua ice cream. “Mommy, am I drunk? Is this drunk? Oh no, I think I might be drunk.”
“Daddy, the dogs keep trying to hump eachother under the table.”
Our meatitarian to the vegetarian. “When Daddy’s not looking give me all your meat and you can have my vegetables.”
The week I tried to make only healthy dinners, this is the night I served only salad. “Mom, are we broke this week? Oh..OK..then where’s our real dinner?”
Same week. I tried to feed my Asian husband brown rice. “What the hell is this?”
“Aw crap, one of the dogs is peeing on my feet.”
This wasn’t even my kid. He was a friend of my son’s and apparently never ate canned meat before. “Wow, this is good. What’s this called again? Corned beef? And they sell it at HEB? Is this Filipino food?” No kid, this is actually family on a budget food.
When I asked why one of the kids didn’t come down for dinner. “We tied her up. She’s still trying to get out.”
Now I realize my family leans a bit towards off-color humor, maybe too much for your taste, but silly as it may sound for an educated adult to say, still, I’ll take that potty humor any day over the grown up stuff. I spend all day, and several hours in the evenings in class, talking about reports, deadlines, equations, and logistics. There’s a time and place for everything and if my kids prefer to laugh at dinner, then I’ll take that. Every chance I get I’ll choose the sounds of their laughter to wrap up my day.
On learning from my mistakes
The first few weeks of living with my first husband entailed a lot of getting used to one another’s personal habits, annoying and otherwise. I should note we were pretty young at the time. One morning he woke up looking at me funny and said, “My mom always told me girls were special, that even their farts smelled like flowers.” He then scrunched up his nose shaking his head side to side and added, “She lied.” We divorced a year later and a few years after we each remarried someone else.
I’ve been with my current husband for almost 16 years. Would you believe in all this time I’ve managed never to pass gas in front of him? I’ve got this one convinced I always smell like flowers.
Rolling credits for the night.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=COiIC3A0ROM
Top 5 Lessons of Marriage
Here are the top 5 lessons I’ve learned being with the same man for 16 years.
1. You will contemplate divorce seriously once or twice a year. A couple times you will even go so far as to pack your bags, skim through the yellow pages for an attorney, or mentally start a getaway plan and calculate the division of assets in your head. Eventually you change your mind and a week later you forgot what you were so worked up about anyways.
2. Sex stops. You go from frequent to infrequent and then finally to exclusive special occasions only, which is far less than the ten federally observed holidays. Each of you will go through the mourning period separately but then gradually get used to it. I have heard that some couples rediscover it after the kids are all out of the house. By my count that means I have quite a few more years of abstinence ahead of me.
3. If you don’t figure out early on that the grass is actually greener on your side and not the neighbors – you’re screwed. There are always going to be those “picture perfect” couples that make you feel like your marriage must be in bad shape or that single friend who has the freedom you’re envious of. Better believe that picture perfect folks are usually full of sh*t and being single isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Stick to what you got. Cherish your own marriage, with all of it’s imperfections and inconveniences.
4. There is an extremely thin line between love and hate. You can love someone more than yourself and still manage to hurt him or her with a contradicting callousness. You’ll promise never to hurt one another but you will and if you’re lucky you’ll forgive each other and stay because unconditional means exactly that. You learn to forgive the unforgivable just when you thought you couldn’t.
5. Relationships have a shelf life. If you don’t work on it daily, yours will expire. This doesn’t mean you have to buy extravagant gifts or celebrate everything under the sun, just show up. Be there. Listen. If my husband eats dinner with me every night and listens to me gripe about work or gossip about people he doesn’t even know, I’m a happy girl. In return, I’ll go to that overpriced sports bar and watch a game that bores me to no end just to keep him company.
In short, marriage is hard work. Sometimes it’s boring, other times painful, and most often downright tiring but if you can find the right person it really is worth it!
Rolling credits for the night.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ju8Hr50Ckwk&ob=av2n
Arguements you can’t win
Have you ever argued with your husband or wife, girlfriend, whatever, and you were so frustrated you yelled back something that didn’t even make sense?
I do it all the time. Sometimes my husband and I even argue over text messages. That’s the worst. You start typing off the handle and all your words come out jumbled, or autotext tries to finish your words, but the software doesn’t recognize profanity so sh*t becomes shirt, an abbreviated f*k becomes fur, and so on.
Yesterday my husband and I were having one of those ‘who can throw more attitude’ arguements and somewhere in the middle I just stopped making sense. The Beastie Boys were on the radio and I made some smart *ss remark like, “I would so leave your *ss for MCA right now,” and the lame part was I don’t even think he heard me because our call dropped.
That’s another thing that bites, fighting on your cell phone and having the call drop while you’re still yelling. It’s awkward calling back because you’re not sure which insults to repeat since you don’t know which ones he already heard before the first call dropped.
Rolling credits for the night.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEM3dW2oWW4
Pipe dreams
This has been a real clusterf*@k of a week. Sunday I wanted to cry, Monday I did, Tuesday seemed hopeful, Wednesday I was spent, and today’s only Thursday.
These are the bad days, my low points. All the things I want for myself seem ridiculously out of reach and I get to thinking, ‘Who the hell am I kidding? I ain’t never gonna’ be more than what I am right now. Everything else…is just a pipe dream.’
Weeks this crazy I worry I’m not seeing enough of my kids. So sometimes when I get home late from class I tell them to sleep in my room, all four of them. It seems silly, but I just like to hear them breathing while they sleep. It’s comforting knowing I’m breathing in the same air as they are, it reminds me why I keep those pipe dreams.
Rolling credits for the night…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mQnhZMJMNo&feature=related
Thongs
The other day we were at Target and as I put some underwear on the rolling counter my husband made a snarky comment. “Do you have to buy your granny panties from Target?” All I’m thinking is, “Excuse me???” First of all, these are not granny panties, they’re boy shorts and FYI they’re very comfortable. Second, it’s not like we’re at the $1 store.
He wasn’t convinced and still seemed pretty irate with me. This coming from the guy who likes to wear his shades at night. I mean seriously, don’t make me go there. Besides, we’re so past that point in our relationship where he even saw me in my undergarments anymore. The only time he was gonna’ see those things would be when we did the laundry.
I remember the days it was nothing to drop a bill on buying a handful of thongs at Victoria’s Secret, but that just seems ages ago. Four kids and a mortgage to pay later, I’d rather use that $100 to pay my electric bill.
I don’t know, I guess I’m older, wiser. These days my notion of sexy comes from a higher place than wearing a piece of cloth riding up my butt. Ladies, that’s actually code for “in the last few years my ass has grown to out of control proportions and I refuse to ask some cute little sales woman half my size to help me find a size XL thong”.
Epilogue…
I just received a comment from a wise friend who opposed my initial view and fear of the intimidating tiny thong. She pointed out that thongs served as a reminder to our husbands of how lucky they are to have us; hence, “every now and then the thongs need to be on display!” She also noted that “the marriage bed is holy and undefiled”. (Look that up, I had to. It’s actually pretty good.)
I believe I’ve just been schooled. Apparently, if I want to remind my husband, and myself, of the inner and outer sexiness I possess I’m going to have to bite the bullet and pull out the thongs, or as she referred to them, “the sexies”. *Sigh*
OK, I can dig that. After all, my man did buy me that gorgeous Burberry purse last month and I have yet to show him the full measure of my gratitude.
Ladies and gents, wish me and my derriere luck, I’m gonna’ need it.
Rolling credits for the night.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18TLHhhHZCA
Protected: What will you choose?
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