I’ve Got Nothing July 29, 2009

Unless you want to hear me talk about packing or moving or lifting with your legs.   Or Mario Kart, because that has been played ad nauseam here.  Big Sister loves it.  The Husband loves it.  They both do their fair share of trash-talking, but it’s way cuter when Big Sister does it. 

But, this time next week, if I’m sitting down to blog, it’ll be from THE HOUSE. 

In case you’re looking for some good reading material though, allow me to offer you some suggestions…

The Cow Story is one of my absolute favorite blog posts.

Read this post, and you will understand why you might see women raising their pinkies at one another.

Learn how Yo Gabba Gabba can answer all of life’s pressing questions here. 

Tweets On A Plane.  Need I say more?  Not if you read them, I don’t.

And, if you need to waste more time, head on over to Photofunia, where you transport yourself to a groovier time…

Check me out, all moving and shaking.

Note to Self July 24, 2009

• Breathe in.
• Breathe out.
• You might be stressing out if The Husband instructs you to lay down based on a quick phone call.
• Figure out how you can go almost a whole week feeling excited and incredibly happy and then in a matter of minutes become completely overwhelmed by anxiety and nerves.
• Maybe take a cue from the dog.  Look at her — sprawled out on the couch, twitching in her sleep with her tongue sticking out.  You could do that.  Minus the tongue.  And the fur.  And that strange yipping noise she’s making…
• Or maybe you should take a cue from your daughters and grab a coloring book and some Crayolas.  They always seem very content when they’re coloring. 
• Or maybe even take a cue from John Cusack’s character in America’s Sweethearts.  Be grateful.  I’m grateful for the earth… I’m grateful for the stars and the sky…
• Wait, no.  You are grateful for this apartment that has been more than just a place to live, it’s been a home, for three years.
• You are grateful for the house you are about to make your home.
• You are grateful for the MANY people who have made and are continuing to make this transition smooth.
• You are grateful that God has been so extremely patient with you!
• Breathe in.
• Breathe out.
• Take a nap.

Boxes and duct tape and Sharpies — oh my! July 23, 2009

I have spent the past three days packing and labeling, wrapping our very fine Target (pronounced Tar-jay for this reference) place settings in some outdated newspapers, and noticing that the word fragile looks weird if you write it enough.  Fragile.  Fragile.  See?  For the next week and a half, we will be eating off of paper or plastic, and drinking out of those cups you get with kids’ meals at restaurants.  I will be wearing flip-flops and only flip-flops for the next week and a half, as the rest of my shoes are all packed into one box — and I will say I am happy that all of my shoes fit into just one box.  And I will also say I am happy that I remembered to put a couple of dryer sheets in the box.  Opening that one might not have been pleasant otherwise.

Yesterday I found a bunch of photos.  Some made me smile — my grandmother smiling after receiving a money bouquet on her 80th birthday — 80 $1 bills fashioned into blossoms.  It was really a beautiful thing, and a great gift idea.  (Is someone forwarding this to The Husband?  Thanks.)  Some made me cringe — pictures from my bridal shower.  Three guests were blindfolded and, one by one, sat in front of me to APPLY MAKEUP.  This was basically my worst nightmare.  Especially since the game happened prior to the gifts being opened, so in every picture I am smiling happily at the various gifts looking like a 4-year-old who just played in her mommy’s makeup drawer.  It is scary.  Thankfully, these pictures were taken before everyone had digital cameras, so all the prints are safely packed away awaiting possible destruction.

This will be the third move for The Husband and I since we’ve been married (the fourth if you count my moving from my apartment to the condo that was ours together after the wedding).  For two people who have only moved away to go to college, that sure seems like a lot!  For a while, we thought this could be IT.  Actually, we thought this should be IT.  I mean, here we were, getting close to our seventh anniversary, both in our 30s, two kids and a dog — weren’t we beyond a “starter house”?

When we started looking, that’s the idea we had in our mind.  We were super picky — as we should be.  Anyone who isn’t picky about an investment of over $100k should have their head examined.  Or, they’re independently wealthy and money is no object.  And who wants to make a decision like that and then constantly second-guess themselves?  Since we are sane and The Husband works very hard for every dime, we were super picky. 

I wrote about how painfully long it was before I woke up and realized that I wasn’t helping the process.   (Click here and here.)  As I continued to pray for peace and direction, it dawned on me that I should be praying for The Husband in that as well.  Yes, he can pray all on his own, but a little extra prayer support never hurt anyone!  So I prayed, and prayed, and prayed some more. 

And one night I noticed The Husband checking out houses in the area we liked, but with some changes.  Smaller lot sizes, mostly.  And then, after months of us searching the dreaded MLS ourselves (mostly me, actually, until my eyes stopped blinking and I saw listings in my sleep), we got connected with a realtor who sent us information on a couple of houses as a favor, because we were becoming friends due to mutual acquaintances.  Meanwhile, we were hearing less and less from our actual realtor.  Then, when we expressed an interest in a house the friend sent us, we received more information in ten minutes about it from her than it would have taken us a week to receive from our realtor.

So The Husband said if we hadn’t heard from our realtor in one week, we’d switch.  That was something I’d wanted to do for a while, but I knew that I couldn’t change his mind, and I knew how loyal he is (which is a good thing, obviously).  More prayer.  In that week, another house came up.  (Keep in mind, none of the houses that she was sending us were sent to us by our actual realtor.)  We were able to see it on Deadline Day.  We hadn’t received anything from the person who was supposed to be working so hard to find us a home, so we asked our friend if she’d take us on, and that she did.  Nice timing, too, since we made an offer the next night and it was accepted the day after!

When we shared our news, someone who seemed a bit bemused by our picky nature asked if we’d settled.  I was so confused by that question — how can it be settling when it’s so clearly what God wanted for us?   I mean, yes, we started out wanting something a bit different, but as we continued on the journey and we both (especially me) focused on letting God lead, our desires changed.  (Brings to mind Psalm 37:4.)  Maybe this house would’ve been put on the market six months ago if we (especially me) hadn’t been so stubborn.  Who knows… I’m just so thankful that things did fall into place and I am even more grateful for the peace that The Husband and I have both felt about this, and the (so far) smooth sailing we’ve had!

The peace of God absolutely transcends all understanding — that’s the only way to explain how much I’ve enjoyed packing this week!

Dear Blank, July 20, 2009

Dear Marshalls Employee,

I am very sorry that someone peed in your Wheaties this morning. 

I am sorry that I inconvenienced you by returning the shorts I bought yesterday because they had a big gaping hole in the back.  The big gaping hole that I didn’t notice until after I brought them home, cut the tags off, and proceeded to wear them to church.  To work with children.  I’m sorry that I threw away the tags.  I didn’t realize that when I purchased something and wore it I was supposed to retain the tags just in case I noticed later that there was a big gaping hole in the item. 

I’m sorry that after you gave me back my $7.49 that I returned to the clearance rack and found the exact same pair of shorts and brought them back up to you.  I’m sorry that whoever put them on the rack failed to attach a price tag.  I’m sorry that you had to punch some numbers and print a new one.  I’m sorry that it took an extra 30 seconds out of your busy morning, what with that one other shopper in the store who wasn’t yet at the check out line.

I do want to thank you for not making eye contact with me, though, and for not acknowledging my thanks for your help, my smile, and my sincere wish that you have a nice day.

Regards,
The Woman With The Holey Shorts

———————————————————-

Dear Kohls Employee,

I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for thinking that the Jansport backpack I bought on sale with my $5 coupon was for me.  For thinking that I was a student. 

I do apologize for practically jumping over the cash register to hug you, though.  I realize a simple thank you would have sufficed.  Also, I’m sorry I found the loudspeaker and, over the strains of Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer that seems to be playing every stinkin’ time I’m in your store, declared you to be my new BFF.

By the way, I think I wrote your number down wrong.  Are you sure the first three digits are 555?

With much love,
The Woman You Thought Was A Student

Note to Self July 17, 2009

• It is kind of difficult to do this after just doing a tag post.
• Except the tag post asked specific questions, and on this note you can be random.
• You know it’s a good day when your most pressing concern is whether to give yourself the pedicure, or the pedicure and the manicure.
• Enjoy this day.  Enjoy this weekend.  The next two weeks will be full of cardboard boxes, a big roll of packing tape, the scent of Sharpie markers, and deciding what goes and what stays.
• If it hasn’t been used since you lived in the condo with just The Husband and The Dog, it can probably go.  I mean, that was almost 7 years ago.
• Unless, of course, the item(s) you haven’t used in 7 years are in the kitchen.  Because, let’s face it, some of those things are complete mysteries to you, and they are probably useful.
• Perhaps you should schedule a training course in your new kitchen with your friends that know already that sometimes kitchen shears are supposed to come apart.  (Figure out if yours do.)  Or will know what to do with anything you see here.
• Perhaps you should also schedule a time for your friends to come over and help you decorate.  But first, help them appreciate that you have never decorated.  Ever.  Also, help them appreciate that you are po’, and all decorating will happen s l o w l y.  But, having an idea of what you want to do is good.
• Try to convince The Husband to stop referring to the color of the accent walls in the family room and our bedroom as Poop.  Or What’s-in-L’il-Bit’s-Diaper.  Because a) it is not the color of poop or anything found in L’il Bit’s diaper.  And b) THE HUSBAND IS COLOR BLIND!  Remind him of this.
• Go ahead, give yourself the manicure.

Have a great weekend!

Tag! I’m it. July 16, 2009

Kearsie tagged me.  She’s really good at this tagging stuff, especially considering she lives in a different state.

1. What is your current obsession?

*white girl two step*

That would be the house.  Well, a picture of the house anyway.  I don’t know that I’m obsessed, but I’m very, very excited!  And I keep thinking about it, and day dreaming about it, and imagining what it will be like to not have to get out of the car in the Florida heat or the Florida rain and walk up the stairs, sometimes holding a 27-pound child as well as the 27-pound child’s 7-pound bag…

 2. What is your weirdest obsession?

I’m going to go with Celtic Thunder.  Personally, I don’t think it’s all that weird, but I know others do — and I’m okay with that.  Because I don’t understand their obsessions with Harry Potter, The Office, or Twilight.  Or Twilight paraphernalia.  Especially… Well.  Just look here, and here.  Five real live Irish men singing don’t look so strange anymore, now do they?  Even if they’re wearing skirts kilts.

3. Recall a fond childhood memory.

When I was younger, my parents had a cabin in South Carolina that we would go to.  Someone had built on to a mobile home, it was so crazy!  I wasn’t all that fond of it when I was younger (what 10-year-old girl wants to be in a cabin for a week with no TV?!), but I appreciate how great it was now.   I also like thinking about the videos my dad took while we were there.  Fifteen minutes straight of Dad’s sneakers and the trail.   

4. What’s for dinner?

The girls will eat hot dogs and mac and cheese.  I will eat whatever snacks there are at home group.

5. What would you eat for your last meal?

The first thing that came to my mind was chicken and rice.  Seriously.  So I’m going to go with that. 

6. What’s the last thing you bought?

Well, this is kind of weird, because I also bought buns, like Kearsie.  But I bought buns because The Husband was making hamburgers for dinner and we only had two buns.  So I bought buns.  And Swiss Cake Rolls.

7. What are you listening to right now?

The music on Mario Kart.  And I am only listening, not watching, because I haven’t taken any Dramamine.

8. What do you think of the person who tagged you?

I think Kearsie is wonderful and creative and caring and generous and smart and I am so thankful for MySpace, because if it weren’t for MySpace, she and I would not have messaged and gotten each other’s IM screen names and started chatting late at night when our husbands were wishing we were in bed.  EDITED TO ADD:  Kearsie is also so funny that often her blogs make me laugh until I cry, or laugh so hard that one of my spleens hurt.

9. If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished, anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Uhm.  Uhmmm.  I’m still kind of fixated on the house that we are going to pay for in monthly increments for several years, that is not yet furnished.  Ask me again in 5-10 years.

10. If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?

I don’t understand this.  I’m just going to be there for an hour?  Because if I could go anywhere, it would take me more than an hour to get there.  And why would I want to just be there for an hour?  If I could go anywhere, I’d want to stay a while.  This question is giving me a headache.

11. Which language do you want to learn?

Sign language.  I took a class in commnity college, but all I remember is how to say a bad word in it, and I learned that in Mr. Holland’s Opus.  I still know the alphabet, and I remember how to do some songs in sign language.  But I don’t think it would make much sense if I just went around singing and signing.

12. What’s your favourite quote (for now)?

It is, and has been for a while, “Never marry a man who lies.”  Wise words from Nanny Maureen in You’ve Got Mail.

13. What is your favourite colour?

Ooooh, I just noticed how that’s written!  Do I get to be British today?  Can I answer this with an accent?  My favourite colour is red.

14. What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own wardrobe?

My skinny jeans — because they are now my regular jeans.

15. What is your dream job?

Whatever job takes the least amount of time and brings in the most amount of money.  That, or a writer — which is exactly the opposite.

16. What’s your favourite magazine?

The outdated ones at the doctor’s office.  Especially the style ones that I read and think, “Oh my gosh!  I’m wearing that!  I am so in!”  And then I realize it’s from 1998.

17. If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?

Stuff for the house.  I don’t know what, but I’m pretty sure I could find $100 worth of stuff for it.

18. Describe your personal style.

Mommy chic.  I don’t know if it’s a style, but it should be.  Sit outside of a preschool or elementary school sometime… Well, don’t, because then you’d look creepy and they’d call the police.  So drive by a preschool or elementary school, and watch — you will see a lot of t-shirts and khakis.  At least around these parts you will.

19. What are you going to do after this?

Fix the girls their dinner and go to home group, at which point I will eat my dinner.

20. What are your favourite films?

The kind that make me laugh, or make me cry, or both.  Actually, two come to mind, so I’ll go with Taken and The Prestige.  (And not just because Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman were both in it — it was really good!)

21. What’s your favorite fruit?

Tangerines.  And strawberries.  (Did you know I’m still answering these with a British accent?)

22.What inspires you?

You.  You’re the meaning in my life.  You’re the inspiration.  You bring feeling to my life.  You’re the inspiration.  (That wasn’t in a British accent.  I sang that all raspy and with all the emotion that Chicago gave to it.  I know you’re moved.)

23. Your favourite books?

Chick-lit.  Jennifer Weiner.  Sophie Kinsella.  I like easy, but highly entertaining, reading.

24. Do you collect anything?

I have a very small collection of Willow Tree figures.  And I started getting several things with snowmen on them at Christmas — which I think is kind of weird since a) I’m in Florida and b) I’ve never seen snow.   I like the Willow Tree figures better.

25. Any advice from bitter experience?

See #12.  And a few of my previous posts. 

26. What makes you follow a blog?

It helps if I know you.  Or if the blog makes me laugh.  Or cry.  Mostly laugh, though.

I hereby tag…

Katrina
Carrie
Kim
Winn (and she won’t do it, but still, I hereby tag her nonetheless)

An Affair To Remember July 14, 2009

Cheaters suck.  Being cheated on sucks. 

The memory of being cheated on may be worse.

Last night, our phone rang after 10 pm.  Nobody calls us after 10 pm.  If the phone rings after 10 pm, we think something is seriously wrong somewhere with someone.  No good can come from a phone call after 10 pm.

So the phone rang after 10 pm.  I answered, fully expecting to hear that something was seriously wrong somewhere with someone.  But I didn’t hear that.  Instead, I heard a delay and then a woman’s voice saying The Husband’s name with a question in her voice. 

“This is Vanessa,” I said with an edge, “his wife.” 

There was a pause, and then, “Is this ###-####?”

There was an audible sigh of relief, and then I told her she had a couple of numbers mixed up and hung up.

I have no reason to think The Husband would have a strange woman calling him after 10 pm, or at any hour.  However, the first thought that came to my mind was, What if that was the plan?  What if she was told to act like it was a wrong number if I answered?  What if? what if? what if?

STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!

This is where I think about the verse that talks about taking captive every thought and making it obedient to Christ.  (2 Corinthians 10:5, I think – I’m too tired to look it up.  Even if looking it up online is just a right-click away.  Okay, fine, I’ll look it up… And I was correct, 2 Corinthians 10:5.)

I hate, HATE, that my mind ever goes there.  EVER.  It is not fair to The Husband.  It is not fair TO ME.  Things can be going along incredibly well, smooth sailing, etc., etc., and then something can trigger a recollection of a similar situation ten years ago.  TEN YEARS.  Another life, a different man.  How much time will it take to heal this old wound?

Don’t get me wrong — I know my situation wasn’t the worst possible scenario ever.  After all, the marriage was brief and there were no children involved.  But, it was my scenario.  And it sucked.

After a wrong number after 10 pm on a weeknight, or any time something turns a switch in my mind that takes me to a place that I don’t want to be, I have to pray.  I have to take a deep breath.  I have to remember where I’m at and who I’m with.

Still.  I still wonder sometimes what it would be like to never go there in my mind.

Note to Self July 10, 2009

It’s that time again!  Some things to remember…

• When packing for your move, lift with your legs.  And don’t lift a bag with two bowling balls in it with your arms or your legs.  That’s what The Husband is for.
• The Husband is also good for other things.  Even buying feminine products.  And giving you a good laugh when he calls from the warehouse store to ask, “Regular? Overnight? Ultra thin? With wings or without?” 
• The Husband is also good for introducing you to television shows that you might not have watched otherwise.  You even started watching Lost because of him.  And now Burn Notice.
• Try really hard to not start every sentence with, When you’re a spy…
• Maybe start with, When you’re a Southern Baptist stay-at-home mom…
• That’s not as sexy.
• Speaking of sexy, don’t forget to bring the chocolate eclair cake to the get-together tomorrow.  Why is that sexy?  Because you were told it’s called Better Than Sex cake.  It isn’t though, and it’s kind of sad that someone thought it was.  But whoever named it wasn’t married to The Husband either.
• You mentioned “your move” in the first note to yourself, and you haven’t mentioned yet that you found a house in your blog.
• YOU FOUND A HOUSE! YOU FOUND A HOUSE!  *cabbage patch* *white girl two step*
• Stop watching Music and Lyrics.  Stop it now.  It is so painful that even the Darvocet isn’t helping.
• YOU FOUND A HOUSE! YOU FOUND A HOUSE!  *cabbage patch * *white girl two step*
• Actually, God found the house.  Or maybe God had the house the whole time and was just waiting for you to wise up and join Him where He was working.  DUH!
• Maybe now you can stop stressing, and maybe you won’t see any more grays.  Maybe.  But Oil of Olay’s website still recommends the need for skin rehabilitation using an intensive 3-phase treatment.  Stop crying.
• Wait, keep crying.  Facebook thought an ad for Tummy Tuck Jeans would be appropriate for you.  Keep marking that one offensive.
• YOU FOUND A HOUSE! YOU FOUND A HOUSE!  *cabbage patch * *white girl two step*

I Swear July 8, 2009

But I don’t really.  Swear, that is. 

I wasn’t always like that.  There were times when a few well-placed expletives found their way into conversations once in a while.  It was mostly when I was much younger and trying to fit in.  Then, when I was older, it was to make a point.  I tried to use them well.  Like, there’s a part in the movie Failure To Launch where Matthew McConaughey’s character tells Sarah Jessica Parker’s to “get the f*** out” of his car and, I’m sorry, but it seemed appropriate.

Then I met The Husband and I noticed how he never cursed.  EVER.  (Except that he doesn’t think b*st*rd is a bad word, and I do.  But I also have used the word pr*ck and not thought anything of it, then I said it in front of my mom one time and thought she was going to put me over her knee right then and there even though I was 27-years-old.)  But anyway, The Husband didn’t curse.  And I’ve seen the man in some serious pain, where you’d think a good cuss would actually make you feel better.

He didn’t curse, he didn’t find cursing attractive, so I deleted the choice words from my vocabulary.

That was seven years ago.  Seven years of making it a point to not curse plus two children equals a woman who will spell out the word c-r-a-p among adults.  (I do type it though.  That doesn’t seem as bad.  Or carp, because holy carp is still funny to me.)  And watch this… I type OMGosh, because I want it to be clear that I’m not saying God.  Or WTHeck.  You get the idea.  (Oh, but I do still find monkey fighting and motivators funny.  Is that wrong?  That might just contradict this whole post.  Oh well.)

So I don’t swear, and now when people do swear in front of me, I get all uncomfortable.  It doesn’t happen a lot, because I’m in a bubble.  My People are The Husband, and we’ve established what his thoughts on it are, The Girls, and the older one corrects me if she hears me say c-r-a-p, and The Friends, who are mostly friends from church and you don’t often hear them swearing either.

But, in a couple of months the older daughter will be starting school — public school.  (Cue the scary music!  Not really, because I’m not skeered.)  I want to be an involved parent, and that means I will be around other involved parents.  And as I learned from going to a couple of birthday parties this past year, some of them sprinkle a few expletives into their dialogue occasionally without batting an eye.  And I need to practice not looking completely horrified when it happens. 

Because truly, it’s not like I’m thinking less of someone who says a dirty word now and then.  I may wonder why they choose to say it, but I don’t expect everyone to be as Pollyannish or goody-two-shoeish as me — especially because I’m not as Pollyannaish or goody-two-shoeish as it seems.  But I think my facial expression may tell a different story.  My expression may convey the message, “Someone needs their mouth washed out with soap!”

But I really do wonder why the words are used.  Because even if you aren’t a Pollyanna goody-two-shoes, curse words are curse words.  Kids get in trouble for saying them at school, it’s not considered professional if you use them in the business world (hear that, former realtor?), and movie ratings are still affected by how many and/or which ones are used. 

So why say them?  What’s the benefit?  No one sounds more educated saying them, and it sure doesn’t add class to the conversation.  I’m not talking about if you stub your toe and you need something stronger than sugar or darnit.  I’m talking about in your day-to-day tête-à-tête (hahah, pardon my French).  I’m genuinely curious here.  Maybe if I understand it, I won’t wince or wrinkle my nose when I hear them when I’m beyond the bubble. 

Unless you say them in front of The Girls, in which case I will wash your mouth out with soap.  You’ve been warned.

Note To Self July 3, 2009

It’s Friday, and this is my lame attempt to do something like this.  Or this, except on a Friday, and I don’t know if I can keep it under 140 characters.  Anyway…

Note to self:

• When that time of the month comes around, it might be best if you lock yourself in a room for a couple of days.  Because during that time, there’s just no telling how you will act.  It’s like the estrogen gets together and spins a wheel to determine if you will be slightly moody, weepy, or cranky and hostile.  What’ll it be this week? the little estrogen monsters ask as they gaily dance around the wheel.  CRANKY AND HOSTILE!  Woo-hoo!
• You cannot even watch the first five minutes of the movie Scream or you will have nightmares.
• Do not ever sign Winn up for this show unless you want to see this woman come to harm.  Or unless Winn says she wants a new wardrobe.
• Find out if those are actually gray streaks in her hair.  Because if that’s the case, you can hold off on getting a part-time job to cover the cost of coloring your hair since you found your first gray.  Because if she has her hair like that, then it has to be fashionable, right?  Since she’s one of America’s premiere style experts — so sayeth the website.
• A quick Google search indicates she may have had that gray streak since she was 12, so she’s had more time to get used to it.  Reconsider the part-time job.
• Keep an eye out for more grays.  The first was just a scout, but hopefully being yanked out by the root was a fair warning to send to the rest of them.  They will die quick and painlessly unless they decide to attack in larger numbers, at which time chemical warfare will be utilized.
• Determine what caused your aversion to raw meat, vegetables, and eating your own cooking.   Although, this is probably the best diet you’ve ever been on, and it makes The Husband happy to not have to come home and cook, so maybe it isn’t all that bad…
• Go to bed.  You have a busy weekend ahead of you, and you don’t want to let the estrogen monsters scare away all of your family and friends.