Happy St. Patrick's day! I would say that this is my least favorite "holiday". I'm not grumpy or bah humbuggy about it, it just really isn't my thing. Sure I like a good corned beef or maybe even a shamrock shake, but I have never been a beer drinker and green beer seems even less appealing than regular beer. Plus, it isn't romantic or celebratory of love like Valentine's day. Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter are biggies so it doesn't even come close to those. Memorial Day, 4th of July, and Labor Day all usually have better weather, therefore, they are more fun in my book. It has always just been kind of another day to me. I did once attend the St. Patrick's day celebration in Savannah, Georgia. I believe this is one of the largest parties in the country on St. Patrick's day. It was quite an experience and I did have fun. However, I am not a person that enjoys big, giant crowds of people, so I am not in a big hurry to do it again. The ironic part is that I am now Irish by association. My husband's heritage is 75% Irish. Even more ironic is the fact that he had no idea when St. Patrick's day was until we started dating. Come to think of it, he didn't know when Valentine's day was until we started dating either. It's a good thing that I had something romantic planned for us on our first Valentine's day together, since at some point in our evening at work (we met working together at a restaurant) he looked at me and said "when is Valentine's day"? "Um, that would be today." I don't remember why specifically, but I do remember that it was a stressful time for him that Valentine's day, so he got a pass that year. Oh well, he has been great every year since. Needless to say, I was not surprised a month later when he said, "hey, when is St. Patrick's day"? "Um, that would be today". It is now almost 20 years later and he still actually usually forgets St. Patrick's day. Good thing I don't think of it as big holiday!
Hope you have a great day in whatever way you decided to celebrate (or not) and the luck 'o the Irish to ya!
Last week we had a DVR and HD installed. I know we are quite possibly the last people on the planet to own this little piece of technology...even my parents had it before we did, but now we have one. We all like it, but I would have to say that my husband and my son think they have died and gone to heaven.
Like most men, my husband has dubbed himself the "king of the remote". Really he is not all that great at controlling it...hits the wrong button at the most critical time in a movie, etc., but that's another subject. He is in fact so enamored with the remote, he often has trouble saying good-bye for the night. Therefore, on any given night I will go up to bed, and he will stay on the couch saying "I'll be up as soon as this show is over." By "this show" he generally means whatever he leaves it on the longest in between his many flips around the channel. What he is watching is generally a moot point anyway because he will invariably fall asleep, probably mere moments after I go upstairs. This results in the ever pleasant task having to wake him and get him upstairs. What makes it so pleasant is: one, his reaction, and two, the fact that I have to wake up, get out of my nice warm bed, go get him, and then try and get back to sleep...not always easy for me. He likes for me to wake him gently with a soft voice, which I do. This does not stop him from jumping off the couch and muttering WTF! The other night there was an added dimension to my waking him up. Normally, he has either dropped the remote or it is lying slack in his hand. The other night though, his hand was still gripping the remote and his thumb was poised right on the button he was planning to click next. I cracked up. It was very funny, but made funnier by the fact that we had seen video of his brother doing exactly the same thing. Apparently the death grip on the remote while sleeping runs in the family.
I shudder to think how much worse things will get now that we have the DVR and HD.
Before I start today's post, I must say,"bless you God", for my husband. I say this for two reasons; one, because he gives me such great blog fodder on such a regular basis, and two, because he has the ability to laugh at himself.
It is my contention that women drivers have gotten a bad rap. For years there have been jokes and snide comments about what terrible drivers women make. I have come to the conclusion that, really, it is the men that are the stinky drivers. I come to this conclusion by way of my own clinical research (examining the driving records of myself and my husband). It is not that I have never done anything stupid when it comes to cars and driving. There is, of course, the time I jumped in my car to go grab lunch for my family and our guest that was visiting and promptly backed into our guest's car (a BMW). Cute. There was also the time before I was married and still living at home that my mom and step-father had an architect over to discuss some renovations they were considering doing to the house. I had to leave, as I had a job interview. Once again, I jumped in my car and promptly backed into the architect's car (also a BMW, do those things have magnets in them or what?). I left the scene and called my mom from a pay phone down the road, (yes, I am dating myself admitting that I used a pay phone instead of a cell phone), told her what happened, and left it to her to inform the architect. Nice. However, over our many years together my husband has had MANY, MANY more speeding tickets and fender benders then I could ever have dreamed of having.
Which brings me to yesterday. My darling husband needed to take his car into the shop because he had hit a light post with a giant cement bottom pulling out of a parking spot and whacked the alignment out of place. It begs the question, how fast was he going as he was leaving the parking spot? Anyway, yesterday was the day to take it to the repair shop. My daughter and I were following him to the shop in my car so that we could bring him home. We came to a traffic light. The light was red, however as soon as we slowed and came to a stop it turned green. After a few seconds, I realized my husband was not moving. He had not realized the light had changed. I honked my horn. Nothing. I honked again. Nothing. I now realize I can see him bobbing his head along to music, obviously so loudly that he could hear nothing else. I laid on the horn. Nothing. I tried his cell phone. Nothing. I laid on the horn some more, I swear it was for a good 30 seconds. We are not the only two cars at this light by the way. No one else honked, I guess they figured that the crazy lady laying on the horn non-stop would eventually get his attention. At this point my daughter says "Why isn't daddy moving?" I have now started laughing so hard I am doubled over and no sound is coming out. Finally, he notices (had to be divine intervention) and proceeds along as if nothing happened. It was clear by his actions that he really thought the light had just turned green and it was time to go. When I finally reached him on his cell phone, I laughed for about the first 10 seconds of the call and finally managed to tell him what had happened. He started laughing too. I am laughing again just writing about the event. Absolutely hilarious.
I rest my case. It is really the men who need help when it comes to driving, and, clearly, it is not only the blondes of the world that can be a little spacey at times.
I must say, great job honey! Well, mostly anyway. Now for my opinions on your opinions. What? You didn't think I could just let #1 stand did you?!
O.K. cats and kittens today is a first, my darling husband of 12 years is going to be your author today. I know it may seem that I have taken leave of my senses to allow this to happen, but, honestly I have a splitting headache and can't think of even one interesting thing to say. Therefore, I have thrown caution to the wind and let him rip. Come back tomorrow for my rebuttal!
WOW, This is a somewhat exciting moment for me, the husband of New Diva on the Blog. Two things that make this moment exciting; one, after watching my darling wife blog everyday, I don't have to (thank you GOD) and two, the MAN gets to be heard out in the woman dominated blogosphere (thank you again GOD, we know it will make the world a better place).
I have sooo many options to tell the ladies out there, all topics of course from the MAN's viewpoint. That feels good just to say. Did you know that around the world, women are responsible for uttering 80% of the spoken word in every language to only 20% for men. That's a lot of talking.
I could really go on for a while just trying to catch up, in defense of the MAN, but I really don't want to talk that much I think I'll just hit the highlights...BTW ladies, you may be surprised because you may agree with some of what I'm about to say (probably no more than 20% of it, that seems to be the ratio).
Also, this reading list is for for the pleasure of both MEN and WOMEN as it deals with their intertwining happiness, and everlasting joy :-)
1. Women always think they're right. Especially when they are chemically imbalanced once a month, at which point their opinions lack all logic...but of course, they're still right. How is this possible especially at that time of the month? Oh no he didn't! He did not seriously just pull out the "that time of the month" comment. Have men seriously not figured out that pointing out and/or asking "is it that time of the month?" is quite possibly the. most. infuriating. thing. he. could. ask. Especially if it IS that time. BTW, we SO aren't EVER going to admit it if it is, hellllllllloooooooo.
2. Talking isn't that unbelievably satisfying. Sometimes peace and quiet is better, please remember that. O.K., I can give you this one. However, the flip side is also true. Sometimes talking is satisfying, please remember that.
3. If you already know the answer, that you want to hear, to the question you are about to ask us, please don't ask. It will save us all a lot time and suffering just to get back to what you wanted to hear anyway. Thanks. Tevalicious! (Tevalicious= a derivative of the word whatever)
4. Men don't stand a chance, especially if they're up against a mother-daughter combination. Men, just do what they want. Amen, honey, now you're talkin'!
5. Even though women talk to much, especially when they are insanely slightly emotional, if the man can put his ego aside and listen, his life WILL get better. It's a wonderful kind of reciprocal harmony that happens (you men know what I'm talking about). Unfortunately it normally takes a man about 15 years to figure out how to do this. Ack! I still have to wait 3 years for this?! Just kidding, we've been married for 12 years, but together for almost 18, so you are actually starting to get the hang of this. Thanks!
6. Sex is ALWAYS good for BOTH parties, especially if it's everyday or every other day. It strengthens the relationship, just ask the Man :-) Men, please do step 5. if you want anything even remotely close to this. Wait, I'm confused, when did this turn into a "wish list"?
7. Expect the SPICE; the good, bad, ugly, pretty, nice, relaxing, intriguing, exploratory, vulnerable, up, down, surprising, intense, giving, receiving, loving and pleasing. Really, "It's all good". One of my wife's favorite phrases, I promise. "Sugar and SPICE and everything nice, that's what little girls are made of", you men are lucky devils to get so much in one package!
8. If what you want is to grow old and happy together. Show up, spice it up, and grow up, and things will get better. But most importantly laugh it up, and love it up, because in the end all you have is your relationships, of which the most important adult relationship is usually your significant other. That's you, Chiefy, and growing old and happy together is just what I want to do!
In this BLOG's RECAP; WOMEN TALK LESS! MEN LISTEN MORE.
And lastly I've only scratched, the scratch of, the surface of the MAN's point of view. We know a lot more than you give us credit for, you only think we don't because you have a 5 to 1 corner on the talking market. I have a feeling this means he'll be back. :)
As I may have mentioned about a million times once or twice my husband has an injured back/tail bone. It has been a trying 5 days for us, because as it turns out, being a nurse is NOT my calling. Also, it turns out being a patient IS my husband's calling as he has been milking it for all its worth. I have helped him dress, helped him shower, done everything for the kids and around the house, etc. etc. etc. (did I mention he hasn't been cranky at all during this process, ahem?), and on top of it all he wants some sugar. Yeah, that's exactly how I am feeling toward you right now.
His passion is music, and since all he can do is either lie down or sit on his rear, he has been playing his guitar and singing A LOT. Turns out he has decided that he is a rapper. He is not. I think it's the drugs. If I had a dime for every time I have heard, "hey, honey come and listen to this", over the past 5 days I would be one wealthy woman. Here's the thing, I want to like it I really do, and the music is good. He is talented. The rapping, please God make it stop. I'm tempted to withhold the drugs, so he can get over this delusion that he is going to create the next "Slim Shady". However, I fear this would make him even crankier. You can see my dilemma.
This morning, after dropping the kids at school, I returned home to see how the patient was getting along. He was doing relatively well, so while I did some things around the kitchen I asked him to do me a favor and call the gym to see what class started at nine. The call went something like this: "Hi, I was wondering if you have any yoda classes starting soon?" (The call was on speaker phone, my favorite) "Do you mean yoga classes, sir?" Me in background, "no not yoga soon, just what starts at nine today." "Oh, sorry ma'am, just what is starting today at nine, please." "Today at nine, is Hip Hop, cycling, and No Limits." "Thank you, bye." "You just asked them if they have "yoda" classes." "I know I did that on purpose." "What?!" "Yeah, I did it on purpose, I promise, I knew it would get your knickers all in a twist and I thought it would be funny." Oh, yeah, he is screaming toward the sugar as we speak.
Also, btw, I did go to the Hip Hop Class at 9:00am. It was a blast, and even though I am turning 29 (again) tomorrow, I didn't look like a freak. I could actually kind of do it right. There is only one conclusion to be drawn from this, turns out I have mad hip hop skillz. It did bring me to a very interesting moral crossroads, however. The music we are dancing to is none other than the new release from that virtuous, elegant, classy gal Britney Spears. What is even scarier is that I actually kind of like it. Horrors. Oh well, sometimes we have to make a few concessions for our art.
On Saturday evening my husband's aunt and her husband came over for dinner. We always have a wonderful time together with lots of laughter. Saturday evening was no exception. Also, as luck would have it, this particular get together gave me some great blog fodder. Therefore, today's edition of "He Said, She Said" will star H.(she) and D.(he) instead of my husband and me.
H. and D. have been married for almost 6 years. The story I am relating to you happened shortly after they were married.
H.: "D., D., wake up, wake up I think I heard something downstairs!"
D.: "Probably just a house noise, it'll be o.k. go back to sleep."
Small side note: What is the deal with men and the term "house noise"? It is something my husband uses to explain any and all strange noises in our home as well. What does that mean?! I think it means they don't want to be bothered with looking for the source of said noise. It never appeases me. I don't want to live in a house that has "noises". I would rather have an accounting for the innocuous source of the noise. "House noise" my foot. I always make him go look anyway. And now back to our regularly scheduled program...
H: "No, No you don't understand there's an intruder in the house."I'm sure of it!" You've gotta go, go check." (she can be very persuasive)
D: "Fine, I'll go." (they were newlyweds after all, don't want to upset the new wife) He gets out of bed and heads in a direction other than downstairs.
H: Whispers. "Where are you going?"
D: Whispers back. "I'm going to get my gun. If there is an intruder downstairs I'm going to at least be armed."
They now both sneak toward the stairs and begin creeping silently down, D. in front and H. staying at the top of the stairs.
H: At the top of her lungs. "Whoever's down there my husband's coming and he's got a gun!"
D: Looked at her like, what the @#$!* are you doing. Thinking all the while, "so much for the element of surprise. I've really got him where I want him now. Thank you honey."
#1. In this case it actually turned out to be a "house noise". Imagine that, they might actually exist.
#2. There is now an agreement in place that if there is ever another "intruder", there shall be no alerting the "would be felon" of the surprise attack.
There comes a time in every boy's life when bodily noises become the funniest thing they have ever heard on the planet. My son is 9, and that time has come. My husband and I have been working hard with both of our children on having good manners, particularly at the dinner table. The process is going fairly well, except that is, for the burping thing. Somehow it is impossible for my son not to try to burp as loud as humanly possible whenever and wherever the need arises. It is just too darn funny not to share with the rest of us apparently. My husband also thinks it's funny, and on occasion either laughs right along with my son's latest noise extraordinaire and/or shares one of his own before remembering how rude some of us (me) think it is to do so. It's a work in progress.
Last weekend in Indiana on our trip to the lake we all decide to take my cousin and her husband's boat to what they affectionately refer to as the "Redneck Yacht Club", otherwise known as the sand bar. As you might imagine, there were tons of boats and people hanging around the "yacht club" chatting, playing volleyball, skim boarding etc. A family they know came over to chat with us. We were all having a nice conversation when suddenly the man of the family let rip the most "ginormous" (did you know this is now an actual word in the dictionary?) burp I have ever had the "pleasure" of hearing. He then started laughing and said, "wow, that was a great one!" Nice. My son has started giggling at this point. Not two minutes later from elsewhere on the lake came the sound of yet another "beautiful" belch. The man that had thought so much of his own emission looked around and said, while laughing, "that was awesome, I wonder who did it, I'd like to shake his hand." Again, nice. My son is now in hysterical spasms of laughter. I am thinking my "work in progress" just took a couple of steps backward. Fear not, I will persevere -- if only so I don't have to listen to it at my table.
Ohhhhhhhh Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?...........Here I am in your life, here you are in mine, yes we have a sweet life most of the time............You get the best of both worlds, just relax take it slow, then you rock out the show..........It's gonna take some time to realize, but if you look inside I'm sure you'll find...........Gotta get my head in the game, I gotta get get get get my head in the game.........
If you not only recognized the above song phrases, but could actually keep singing the rest of the song, chances are that you have kids of a certain age in your household that love shows that claim these songs as their theme songs. Just in case you don't know what I am talking about, after all truth is sometimes stranger than fiction, the songs belong to Spongebob Squarepants, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, Hannah Montana, Drake and Josh, and High School Musical. And since I have already embarrassed myself with my extensive knowledge of theme song lyrics, I mine as well cop to the fact that I actually really enjoy these shows. When watching them, With. My. Kids. It have never actually turned one on when there were no kids around. Promise. The same, however, cannot be said for my husband. The other day while I was working on the computer and both kids were at various friend's houses playing, I realized what my husband was watching on TV. "Are you watching Drake and Josh?" "Yes". "You know the kids aren't here, right?" "Yeah, I know. It's funny, like the I Love Lucy or The Honeymooners of today." "Oooo.k."
This conversation reminded me of our 10th wedding anniversary. Yes, I just said that this conversation reminded me of our 10th wedding anniversary. How is this possible? For our anniversary my husband had planned a wonderful celebration. We would be going to downtown Chicago, staying at the Hotel Sofitel for the night sans children, and dining at Japanais. Sounds wonderful, yes? And truly it was, but just after we checked into our room and before the evening really got started my husband flipped on the TV. "Are you watching Spongebob?" "Yes". "On our anniversary, without kids, in a hotel?" "But it's the new one." 'Nuf said.
My husband works primarily on the phone and on the computer from our home office. This means he can "go" to work in shorts and t-shirts and occasionally unshaven. This lead to his recent decision to grow a goatee. Yikes! I have never been a big fan of facial hair, especially on my husband (there have been a few other forays into beard growing but all were mercifully short lived). I, of course, delicately shared my opinion of his decision to grow his goatee. I think it went something like this, "are you crazy, you know I don't like facial hair, and if you insist on growing it, I will not be kissing you ever!" Somehow, he was not deterred. My case was not helped at all by the fact that our son and daughter (initially, until I talked some sense into her) were cheering him on and telling him how cool he looked. Ughh. As the days wore on I tried many different tactics to get him to shave.
Me: "Honey, you know your goatee makes you look MUCH older." My Husband: "Really, I think it makes me look younger." My Son: "I think it makes him look younger." My Daughter: "Yeah, kinda younger." Rats!
Me: "Honey, you know your goatee makes you look MUCH heavier." My Husband: "No, it makes me look thinner." My Son: "Yeah, I think it makes him look thinner too, and way cooler." My Daughter: "I don't really like it anymore." Yahoo, at least now I've got someone else on my side.
Me: "Don't forget, no kissing till it's gone. Our Neighbor: "Kissing is overrated." Whatever!
Me: "So has anyone else said anything to you about your goatee, like they think it looks good or anything?" My Husband: "No, not really." Me: "You know that probably means they don't like it, so they just don't say anything." My Husband: "Yeah you're probably right." Aha! Maybe a little swing in my favor.
Then something terrible happened. People started telling him that they liked it and it looked good on him! I'm talking more than one person here. So now I am thinking I'm doomed and "the facial hair that must not be named" will be here forever.
Then something miraculous happened. The "you know what" started to itch. Yippee! I could see the light, because if there is one thing my husband cannot stand, it's to be uncomfortable. (seriously, he won't go back to restaurants that he thinks have uncomfortable chairs -- yes, he remembers-- even if the food is great). My elation was a little premature, however, because Sunday night (after I was already asleep) he did something that only a guy would do. He shaved off the part that was itching and left the rest. So, yesterday I wake up to a very scary rendition of Fu Man Chu.
Me: "You cannot be serious!" My Husband: "Why what's wrong with it?" Me: (delicately, of course) "Well, if you have to ask, clearly there is no hope for you." My Daughter: "ewww, Daddy shave it off." My Son: "Awesome, you look like a Mexican gangster!" (sorry if that sounds politically incorrect, but it's what he said.) And lo and behold, those were the magic words.
My Husband: "Oh damn, I can't be lookin like a gangster now can I? What the hell, I'm going to shave it."
Somehow, my son who, as the only one in the family who actually wanted him to keep the dumb thing, actually got him to shave it off! So to him I say, "Bless you my son."
After he was all shaved and smooth again he came out of the bathroom, kissed me for the first time in a week and a half, and said "you were right, I really do look better with no facial hair."
Duh! You know, he's cute and relatively smart, but when do you suppose he will finally realize that I am ALWAYS right!