Where the Wild Things Are

Date Night July 28th

2009-05-14T09:52:00.000-07:00

Every year, when the California Mid State Fair rolls around, Ruben and I find one good concert to attend. You can see the details here and here for the last two years. The fair happens to fall within days of our wedding anniversary so, it usually becomes our gift to one another.

This year, nothing had really appealed to our senses. Journey and Heart were coming and while it would be cool to see them, we were a bit worried we would be the only people in our age group there to see either band willingly.

This morning, on our local classic rock station, they were announcing at 8:15 the newest band booked. It was promised to be of the same caliber as Aerosmith so, I tuned in at work to get the details. Then I called Ruben, “Its going to be Kiss,” I told him after the announcement.
“Kiss? With Gene Simmons?” he asked.
“Yep, Kiss.”
“When do tickets go on sale?”
“10 am next Thursday”

I got off the phone and continued my work day. Kind of excited but not thrilled.

He called back after the website had listed their press release.
“The website shows that they are going to have full pyrotechnics! Blood spitting! Fire breathing! And smoking guitars! We need to go!”

I sat silent.

“It’ll be the perfect date night!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Fire, blood spitting, and smoke…perfect date night.

“Tickets go on sale next week at 10am,” I informed him.
“How much?”
“They start at $42”
“And the best seats?”
“They are $67.”
“So, we need a super fast modem or we need to camp out.”
“Ok, honey. I’ll set my calendar at work.”
“To camp out? Great!”
“No Honey…”

The Coffee-Maker

2009-05-14T09:02:00.000-07:00

This morning, Lexi popped her head into the bathroom, as I was getting ready. Her eyes were still half closed and it was about half an hour before she normally gets up.

“Hey Honey, can you do me a favor? Can you turn on the coffee-maker for me?” I asked her.

“I did already. And now, I am going back to bed.”

My four year old daughter had gotten up for the sole purpose of making me coffee.
The mother – daughter bond has just reached a whole new level.

Mother's Day

2009-05-11T15:58:00.000-07:00

Mother’s day this year was the best I have experienced. Both my kids are in preschool so they both made me wonderful gifts in their class. Mateo made me a laminated set of his handprints with a poem about how fast he’s growing up and a picture of him. It was so sweet. I wanted to cry. Lexi made me a bird house, painted every color pastel she could find. She wants to hang it in the yard and we will but there isn’t a bird small enough to get into it.
Then, there’s Ruben. The father of my children.

He got me Rock Band for our Wii. I had been wanting it for months. Let me tell you that I can get lost in Wii games for hours already but Rock Band… with that game, I could lose a few weeks. I opened it up and before I noticed, I had done, “just one more song” for 4 ½ hours. Woopsies! I got the kids rocking with me, singing on the microphone and banging on the drums. It takes me back to the days of being in a garage band and for those fleeting hours that I am rocking out, I forget that I work in accounting and am a mom and wife. For that time, I have my cotton candy pink hair back, I’ve got my led zeppelin shirt on, with my dad’s slacks and suspenders and my red doc martins.

For Mother’s Day, my husband reminded me that I can still be the fun chick I was BEFORE I was a mom. And that’s a pretty awesome gift.

Paging God...God, please pick up line 1

2009-05-07T19:58:00.000-07:00

There is a huge fire blazing in Santa Barbara currently and the station that I work for has been covering it as well as we can. When the receptionist temp we had up front could no longer handle a disgruntled caller, she transferred the woman to me.

Let me tell you right now, I am not a customer service kind of person so, how I kept my cool I am not sure. The woman started by demanding my name and title with the company. I gave them to her and she shouted, "Well, you're not God! I asked to talk to God!!!"

"God is a little busy right now, handling the fire in Santa Barbara, and everything else that is going wrong here on Earth. Is there something I could help you with?"

"Well, if he's not available, I want to leave him a message. Put me through to his voicemail!"

"Ma'am, God doesn't have voicemail here at the station, is there something I can help you with?"

She proceeded to complain about a promotion that had aired the night before when all she wanted to watch was the fire coverage. I offered over and over for her to turn on her tv and watch the current coverage, as we were doing a 4 hour segment of solid coverage, free of commercial breaks. She was adamant that she would never turn "that blasted tv" on again.

And some ten minutes into her complaining, she stopped. Stumbled over her current thought, and asked if I had said we were currently airing fire coverage. I confirmed that we were, for the 10th time, and she joyously said thank you, complimented my patience, turned her tv back on and hung up the phone.

Now, I am curious, why would anyone assume I could get God on the line for them? At the local tv station?!? Isn't it common knowledge that media is the furthest thing from God, next to hell?

And, really, if we had God at the station, I wonder what his voice mail recording would say,
"Hi, you've reached God, I'm unavailable right now. Please leave a prayer at the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as I can" ? Is that about how it would go?

And then there is the whole idea that, um, yea...if God were at the station, don't you think he would be tied up in an exclusive interview regarding the fire? Couldn't you just imagine the questions?

God, how many homes do you plan on destroying in this fire?
How long will it last?
How many people will die from this fire?
How do you feel about the name of the fire being Jesusita?
Now, God, I thought your son said the next time you came down here, it'd be hell. Oh, wait. Is that what this is?
Why is this fire blazing? Are You SMITING Santa Barbara?

I think I am going to put in a requisition for that voicemail box tomorrow.

Agenda:Fitness

2009-05-06T12:54:00.001-07:00

Hey guys, in case you didn't notice from the sidebar, I started a new blog, Agenda:Fitness, which is entirely about getting my behind in shape. Because, well...I've gained weight. Enough to now be bigger than I have ever been in MY ENTIRE LIFE!!!

So, yea, check it out. Suggest tips? Send support? Join the cause?

My new Agenda? Fitness!

Mateo's 3rd Birthday

2009-05-03T18:29:00.000-07:00

Little Mister turned 3 this past weekend and the aching in my heart was unbearable. Its always easier to take Lexi's birthdays because she's not the baby. Mateo on the on the other hand...well, breaks my heart with each milestone because there is no one after him. He's the last child I will have!!!

He woke up and demanded that we sing to him over and over again. And, in the car, driving to Half Moon Bay, he repeatedly used the excuse, "But its my birthday..." every time he wanted what his sister had. This gets old really fast.

He rocked his birthday in his very own composition of clothing (not an outfit!) and was the boss for the day.

Beyond the Super Hero action figures galore, there has been a lot of growing up this little guy has done recently.

Mateo has been potty trained. Which I hear is a big deal for boys before age 3. It was kind of a big deal in our house... I mean, there was a lot of begging and pleading...but he now is happy to be fully using the potty. He also is being bumped up to the next class in preschool a few months early. Turns out, he's pretty smart and would benefit from the bigger kid curriculm. Yea! He also figured out how to ride his bike on slopes which is something Lexi still doesn't have figured out.

All in all, he's growing up. Whether I like it or not.

Little Man

2009-05-01T19:47:00.000-07:00

Mateo's third birthday is tomorrow. I will post pictures of his birthday after the party. We're driving up to Half Moon Bay and I am praying that the kids won't kill each other in the back seat of the car during the three hour drive.

It was about this time, three years ago today, that I was bawling in my hospital bed, whole body convulsing uncontrollably, tossing my cookies in a tub. I made my father so uncomfortable that he left, unable to listen...or smell... not really sure which.

The doctor had promised that labor would only take about 6 hours since this was the second time inducing. Of course, that was at 10 am, which was a full 10 hours before. So much for that!

Even at this hour, we were holding out hope for a 05/01 birthday since it would have the same digits as Lexi (10/05) and Ruben and I share the same digits (01/27 and 10/27). When 11:45 rolled around and I still had not dilated past a 2, Ruben said he would settle for Cinco de Mayo.

Hell if I was going to hold this baby in for another 4 days! Sheesh!

I got an epidural around 10 pm, only 6 hours past when everyone thought I would have a baby in my arms. The anesthesiologist told me it would be a short one, because, surely, it could not be much longer. Still, shaking, I fell asleep for a couple short hours around 1 am.

It was around 4 am that the pain came searing back through my body and with screams of pain, I not only told my mother and husband that I was going to die and that my husband was going to die, but when the doctor walked in, I screamed to the room that WE WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!
As, my doctor called in the anesthesiologist, I continued my screaming, crying tirade. I was trying to push a freight train out of a hole I was certain was never intended to become grand central station.

It was about 5:30 am when the nurse announced to the room that I was still only dilated to a 2. And, it was only 20 minutes later that I was screaming about the burning hard pressure of a skull trying to push its way out of my body. Just like that, the nurses were begging me to breathe, I had dilated to a ten and the baby had crowned. I needed to hold him in until the doctor came back to catch the baby. At 6:02 am, Mateo was born. And, our world has not been the same since.

How Not to Avoid Swine Flu

2009-04-30T14:59:00.001-07:00

20 Things You Didn't Know About Death

2009-04-22T14:07:00.000-07:00

One of my very best friends forwarded me a link to 20 facts about death you didn’t know that I had happened to read that morning.

These were the emails following:

_______________________________

From: Alli
To: Elena
Subject: RE: Found this interesting
Date: Wed, 22 Apr 2009 12:01:47 -0700

I read that this morning! I love those kind of things. The eye bugging enzymes were kind of gross but I think the winner for me was the burial shroud for the childless married couple. Ewww!

-A.
_______________________________

From: Elena
Sent: Wednesday, April 22, 2009 1:37 PM
To: Alli
Subject: RE: Found this interesting

omg how about the people that were burried alive! Ahhhh what a nightmare

_______________________________

From: Alli
To: Elena
Subject: RE: Found this interesting
Date: Wed, 22 Apr 2009 13:53:43 -0700

Yes, buried alive would be one of my biggest fears but could you imagine doing the deed on a shroud covered in dead person bacteria and flesh eating enzymes?

-A.
_______________________________

From: Elena
Sent: Wednesday, April 22, 2009 2:01 PM
To: Alli
Subject: RE: Found this interesting

depends on the guy. is he hot?

jk hell no not even if I was drunk and high!

_________________________________

And that…THAT is why I love this girl!

The Newest Addition

2009-04-18T13:58:00.000-07:00

The kids have been begging for a new dog or a kitty since Toby was stolen six months or so ago. I have strongly considered a cat but Ruben was extremely fearful for our very expensive furniture. I was more fearful for the little furball. I mean, my kids don’t exactly get that you should hold a kitten nicely. They would much prefer to hold it by its neck as it screams for mercy.
Easter came and went with no new pets in our house and I found myself more than a little bummed by that. I had been hoping to get the kids something to love on beyond the usual plush toys but Ruben stood adamant that it was a bad idea. I begrudgingly opted for gifts that were less of a commitment, like jump ropes and squirt guns.
This morning, the kids and I were watching Saturday morning cartoons and I realized that I was really bugged by having a petless household. I got the kids dressed and out of the house before Ruben was even considering waking up. We drove to the nearest pet store and started shopping.
First there were the dog adoptions. Each of those little mangy mutts was adorable and the kids seemed to adore each of them but a dog is a responsibility I would definitely be fully in charge of and if that dog got stolen, too, I would be so heart broken all over again. Next, there were snakes and lizards, those were a no right off the bat. I will not own a snake. Period. End of sentence. No way. No how. Next there were the gerbils and I just think they are weird so: no. Then were the birds and the idea of squawking all day and night and being bitten while attempting to clean a cage and I was not going for that. We ended up at the back of the store where the fish are and a light bulb went off in my head. A goldfish would be perfect! There’s no walking a goldfish, no squawking, no weirdness, no creepy vibe.
We are now the proud owners of a pet goldfish named Fishy. The kids love it, Ruben is ok with it, and I feel like we have successfully built the perfect little family: a husband, wife, daughter, son, and goldfish. We are complete!

Easter is Near

2009-04-04T18:32:00.000-07:00

My kids have been begging me for quite some time now for the "Reaster Bunny" to come to our house and poop eggs full of candy and temporary tattoos all over our lawn. Can I just say, them being more aware of the holidays is one of my least favorite parts of them being in school? Now how and I going to smoothly sneak out and buy the Easter accessories we need? Exactly. I am not. Just like my daughter was hyper aware of Santa shopping to the point that I felt like a criminal the way I snuck around to get gifts.

Anyway...

Today, our downtown association hosted an Easter Egg hunt and pictures with the Easter bunny today, so, of course, at the opportunity to give the kids (and myself) some peace, we went.

For the first time ever, Mateo was the good sport and Lexi was not.

Mateo sat on the Easter Bunny's lap.

Lexi would not.

Mateo got an egg.

Lexi would not even try....

So, here is the best I could do with what I was working with.

On the upside, Lexi totally had the stomach flu this morning but at the thought of getting to see that good ol' Reaster Bunny, she seems to be all better. These fictional icons sure do work wonders.

The Difference Between Moms and Dads

2009-04-01T15:18:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was a teacher work day for my kids’ preschool and so I stayed home with them. I booked all their needed doctor and dentist appointments for the morning and then many more activities. We did all the appointments by 10 and then had breakfast, met up with a friend, and headed to the zoo. By noon, we were at Walmart, and then off to the grocery store. I ran the kids around until they were starving and hungry. I brought them home, fed them lunch, and put them down for naps. While they slept, I did 3 loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and put away all of our purchases. I even managed to get in a little lunch for myself.
I was completely wiped out by the time Ruben got home but he immediately laid down for a nap. A new challenge arose: keeping the kids entertained quietly so daddy could sleep.

When he woke up the kids were so excited to tell him all about their day and the zoo. “Mmhhmm… that’s nice” he would say as he paid attention to anything else.

While I was making dinner, Mateo ran to Ruben and said, “Look Daddy! Look! I’ve got monies!!”
“Good job Mateo…” Ruben trailed off. It was clearly his turn to watch the kids but he was doing everything but that.

“Mateo, can I see your monies?” I asked from the kitchen.
“Yea! Mommy, look!”

Inside a little box he had the ENTIRE contents of Ruben’s wallet. Money, credit cards, Mexican pesos…EVERYTHING.

“Oh, Wow! Mateo! This is great! Can I have your money and cards so I can give them back to the right person?” I asked.

“Sure, sure…its Daddy’s” Mateo said, handing over his prize.

“I thought it might be – I’ll make sure he gets what he needs” I said with a wink and a thought of a swift kick in the butt.

So, I am wondering how long it will take Ruben to put the two together and how far he’s going to get today on an empty wallet because I am not giving those things back to him until he figures it out! Maybe then he will pay attention.

Oh who am I kidding?!? That’s the difference between Moms and Dads!

Potty Training is Really a Poopy Job!

2009-03-26T16:07:00.000-07:00

Never did I think my world would be so consumed with the thoughts and worries of someone else’s bodily functions as I am, and yet here I am, writing about it and how my son’s diaper days NEED to be over!

With Lexi it was easy. One day we decided it was time to potty train her and the next day she was in panties and doing great. The girl has had maybe 3 accidents ever.

Mateo on the other hand, is the king of control. This toilet training thing has become a battle of the wills in my house. I ask him to go potty he says no. I offer him a treat, he negotiates for a Halloween basket worth of candy and then changes his mind to up the ante and then he holds more power. The more I offer, the more power he gets but just when I am about to throw my hands in the air and give up, he goes.

We are two weeks into the process of training and Mateo is having one accident almost every day and I am finding myself so frustrated and so bothered by it that I can’t concentrate anywhere. I call his school to check in and hear how many times he’s tried, succeeded, missed…I wait and watch as he withholds bowel movements for days like it’s the most important thing. I am pretty sure the next time he goes number two on his Spiderman potty I will be as shocked and thrilled as if Ed McMahon came to my door with an oversized check.

Truth be told, we only decided to train him to save money. It had nothing to do with freeing the landfills of one less child’s disposable diapers filled with excrements or advancing him to the next level of independence. It was all about the $120 we spend a month on him that we could be saving for something more important like, I don’t know, our mortgage?

So now, I am wondering how long is this process supposed to take? What are the secrets to being successful? How do I get the kid to hold it from 8:30pm to 6:00am? Am I going to lose my mind before this whole thing is over, and how does one accident result in so much dirty clothing?!? Do you know how many socks the kid goes through? I had no idea socks would need changed!

Too good to not!

2009-03-19T11:01:00.000-07:00

I just discovered these two little gems on the internet yesterday and I feel the desperate need to share them with you:

The Customer is Not Always Right

Sorry Mom!

Enjoy these nuggets of gold!

Never Bring Plants into the House

2009-03-17T15:43:00.000-07:00

Garden Grass Snakes also known as Garter Snakes can be dangerous. Yes, grass snakes, not rattlesnakes. Here's why:A couple in Sweetwater , Texas , had a lot of potted plants.. During a recent cold spell, the wife was bringing a lot of them indoors to protect them from a possible freeze. It turned out that a little green garden grass snake was hidden in one of the plants and when it had warmed up, it slithered out and the wife saw it go under the sofa.She let out a very loud scream.The husband (who was taking a shower) ran naked into the living room to see what the problem was. She told him there was a snake under the sofa. He got down on the floor on his hands and knees to look for it. About that time the family dog came and cold-nosed him on the behind.He thought the snake had bitten him, so he screamed and fell over on the floor. His wife thought he had a heart attack, so she covered him up, told him to lie still and called an ambulance. The attendants rushed in, wouldn't listen to his protests and loaded him on the stretcher and started carrying him out.About that time the snake came out from under the sofa and the Emergency Medical Technician saw it and dropped his end of the stretcher. That's when the man broke his leg and why he is still in the hospital. The wife still had the problem of the snake in the house, so she called on a neighbor man..He volunteered to capture the snake. He armed himself with a rolled-up newspaper and began poking under the couch. Soon he decided it was gone and told the woman, who sat down on the sofa in relief. But while relaxing, she dangled her hand in between the cushions, where she felt the snake wriggling around. She screamed and fainted and the snake rushed back under the sofa.The neighbor man, seeing her lying there passed out, tried to use CPR to revive her.The neighbor's wife, who had just returned from shopping at the grocery store, saw her husband's mouth on the woman's mouth and slammed her husband in the back of the head with a bag of canned goods, knocking him out and cutting his scalp so badly that he needed stitches.The noise woke the woman from her dead faint and she saw her neighbor lying on the floor with his wife bending over him, so she assumed that he had been bitten by the snake. She went to the kitchen and got a small bottle of whiskey, and began pouring it down the man's throat. By now the police had arrived.They saw the unconscious man, smelled the whiskey, and assumed that a drunken fight had occurred. They were about to arrest them all when the women explained that it all happened over a little green snake. The police called an ambulance, which took away the neighbor and his sobbing wife.The little snake again crawled out from under the sofa. One of thepolicemen drew his gun and fired at it. He missed the snake and hit the leg of the end table. The table fell over, the lamp on it shattered and, as the bulb broke, it started a fire in the drapes.The other policeman tried to beat out the flames, and fell through thewindow into the yard on top of the startled family dog who, jumped out and raced into the street where an oncoming car swerved to avoid the dog and smashed into the parked police car. Meanwhile, the burning drapes were seen by the neighbors who called the fire department.The firemen had started raising the fire truck ladder when they were halfway down the street. The rising ladder tore out the overhead wires and put out the electricity and disconnected the telephones in a ten-square city block area. But they did get the house fire out.Time passed and both men were discharged from the hospital, the house was repaired, the dog came home, the police were issued a new car, and all was right with their world. Several days later the wife and husband were watching television and the weatherman announced a cold snap for that night.
The wife asked her husband if he thought they should bring in their plants for the night.
That's when he shot her!

2009-03-17T10:40:00.000-07:00

I figured we were do for a picture here somewhere. This is a picture of the kids the other night sitting in the yard. Its finally warm enough that we can be outside past 5 pm so, we've been taking full advantage.

I am pretty sure, if I were solar powered, I would have been fully charged at the end of last weekend.

Mateo must be imitating the flash that goes off when a picture is taken.

My One Year Anniversary with the Feral Plant

2009-03-13T09:16:00.000-07:00

I have a black thumb, those of you that know me, know that this is no exaggeration. I could kill your plant simply by looking at it. Its something I am not proud of by any means but I am aware of and work with it.
A year ago, my boss gave me a plant, a live one. I accepted it with a cringe, worrying of the offense that might be taken if it died within a week.

I started out by giving the plant the last of the water that was in my cup every week or so. Then, it became the last of whatever might have been in my cup. You wouldn’t imagine how perked up that plant would get after a dose of crystal light. I left it on my desk, under the fluorescent lights day in and day out with no chance of ever having it see actual light. It continued to not only grow but bloom.

This plant will be the ONLY plant EVER that has survived more than a week in my presence and I have deemed it the “feral plant” because it does not live in a manner similar to its own kind with naturally derived chlorophyll or fresh water. It actually does best with lemon water, tea, sugar free juice drinks and the occasional soda. And the deep green leaves are the direct response of office ambiance also known as fluorescent tubes.

I put it out in the sun for thirty minutes the other day, thinking of giving it a treat, and it whithered quite quickly. I promptly returned it, gave it a splash of sparkling lemonade, and waited with baited breath. I had grown fond of this strange plant. It needed to live! Within an hour it was showing visible signs of improvement.

I love that feral plant and don’t know what I would I do without it, anymore!

Please don’t call the Plant Protection Services on me!!!

Wednesday - Hump Day

2009-03-12T14:49:00.001-07:00

Lately, work has been a bit stressful for my husband (his firm is finally joining the rest of us, clinging for their jobs with absolute desperation) and so, I have been a bit more nurturing than I might normally be. I have cut out eating out at lunch (the horror!), I have cancelled cable (did I mention I work in TV?!?), and I have been making more macaroni and cheese than I care to admit (can I get a salad up in here?). I even decided to postpone any vacation plans we might have wanted to day dream about for the next year or so (sucking the LIFE out of me, here!!!)

Yesterday morning, the alarm went off and I attempted to shake Ruben out of bed. “I don’t want to get up!” he grunted.
“But its Wednesday,” I coaxed.
“Oh greeaaatttt…”
“Come on, you know: Wednesday – Hump day”

That’s when I realized that even before the sun comes up at least *those* synapses are firing for men.
“Oh really?” He asked as he scooted closer…

I wacked a pillow in his face, called him a perve and hopped in the shower.

The line must be drawn somewhere…

That Crazy Man I Live With

2009-02-18T14:45:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite bloggers, Heather Armstrong of dooce.com, brought this meme over from facebook and it was hilarious! I felt inclined to share some background by doing the same…Most of you probably don’t know a lot about Ruben. That might be a good thing!

What are your middle names?
My middle name is Breanne. Ruben's middle name is Dagoberto. In fact, he’s a Jr. I saved our son…He owes me BIG time for not becoming Ruben Dagoberto Ruiz III.

How long have you been together?
We’ve been married for 7 ½ years, together 8 ½ years.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met a month or two before we started dating. I thought he was creepy and thoroughly annoying. Two very attractive qualities, apparently.

Who asked whom out?
He asked me. In fact, he would not take no for an answer. I must’ve given 5 excuses that he knocked down right away…he was determined!

How old are each of you?
I'm 26, he's OLD 31. The 5 ½-year age difference, always gets played up on birthdays. God, I will never get tired of offering an arm of assistance for his tired bones as we walk out of a steakhouse on his latest milestone.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see both sets fairly evenly which sucks because my two sisters are local and his siblings are 3 hours away but we try to keep it fair and all…

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Um, our house is the bane of our existence. I cried the day we closed escrow and after fixing it all up to sell, we had a flood and got to start all over. We’ve now missed the possibility of having any equity in our house, thankyouverymuch recession and will be stuck in this evil little house until things change…

Did you go to the same school?
We both went to the same high school but he graduated in 1995 and I graduated in 2001. He went to Cal Poly for college and I went to Long Beach State

Are you from the same home town?
Yes, we are both from the pumpkin capital of the world, the lovely, the tiny, stop sign on a black top of a city, Half Moon Bay.

Who is smarter?
We could debate this for hours but this man refused to recognize “dollop” as a word. He also needs me to fix the computers, cook, make all decisions regarding our children…. On the other hand, he is smart enough to convince me to do all these things so…

Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I am the one who is a step away from being locked up in a padded room so, its safe to say ME ME ME!!!!

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Hmmm…is this a trick question? Wouldn’t that require us to eat out?

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
St. Maarten, Netherlands Antilles – part of a cruise last year, thanks mom and dad!

Who has the craziest exes?
I do. Hands down. Mine are the ones who keep reappearing in our lives, either hopelessly begging for me to consider their jobless ass for a second chance, or to hear that they are homeless and have put more white powder up their nose than Whitney Houston. They are some real gems, let me tell you!

Who has the worst temper?
Depends. I have the screaming and swearing kind of temper and he has the screaming and punch stuff kind. Only kidding. Have you met us? We are two of the quietest people EVER…

Who does the cooking?
Me. I taught Ruben how to make Campbell’s soup when we first got together and thought we were progressing as I tried to teach him to make maccaroni and cheese from the box. Do you know how HORRIBLY wrong Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese can go? Because I do!

Who is the neat-freak?
I used to be. When I lived on my own, my place was spotless. Now, there is crap EVERYWHERE! And I have given up hope!

Who is more stubborn?
I am of Irish/German decent. He is Mexican… you be the judge. But I will tell you this: Our kids are EVIL stubborn!

Who hogs the bed?
Ruben. At least every other night, I get pushed right off. Our bed is so miserably uncomfortable that the only place Ruben is willing to lay is right in the middle and he tosses, snores, kicks, shouts, and does this weird ballerina, twinkle toes thing.

Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Ruben would not be up until noon if he had the choice. But he lives with two children under 5 and me…he has no choice!

Where was your first date?
San Benito House Deli for lunch. I had the cheese and avocado sandwich on wheat, no avocado…back in the vegetarian days.

Who is more jealous?
Totally me. He gets calls from his octogenarian boss and I go ape shit: “Who was that? Why was she calling? Doesn’t she know its family time?” I might need to work on it.

How long did it take to get serious?
Well, we started dating in September and were married by July so…not long?

Who eats more?
He does. I would try to keep up but I would be the size of a bus! Damn his great genetics!

Who does the laundry?
He does his. I do everything else. And that includes folding the piles of clean clothes he just did but wants to leave sitting on top of the dryer FOREVER or until he chooses to wear it. Whichever comes first.

Who's better with the computer?
Me. Ruben has asked me how to access the internet with the bright blue e (of internet explorer) staring right at him. Yea….

Who drives when you are together?
Usually Ruben. We are both back seat drivers, though. I drive too fast, he drives way too slow and forgets the off ramp he needs on a regular basis.

Feel free to answer some or all of the same questions about your significant other in the comments, or leave a link to your website if you prefer answering there.

The Heart Break Files, part 11

2009-01-14T11:31:00.000-08:00

The days passed on and I couldn’t bring myself to write about the feelings I was having. I was completely destroyed by the “rebirth” of Jesse. The more I wrote about it, the more it lingered. I waited in hope for the Pumpkin Festival. I had invited him to attend before the final email and deep down, I knew it was a closed book if he chose not to attend. My relationship with Ruben stayed in limbo. Lexi’s 4th birthday came and went as I secretly held out hope for the third weekend in October. It was the Friday before, as we drove to Half Moon Bay, that I realized, I was doing the exact thing I wanted to avoid: I was pulling away from my husband as I was trying to pull away from my memories. My heart could be in love with two men or not at all but I was having a hard time clearing out the space for just one man to hold my heart.

Ruben and I never did have the conversation that needed to be had about where we stood. It seemed obvious that there was work to be done but we had to rebuild a trust in the relationship we had before we could work on the issues safely.

Saturday morning, after a visit to the local coffee shop, I got the kids into their costumes and braced myself for finality. I put in my mind that if Jesse came to the parade, then I had to face him and the emotions that would come with. If he was not, I had to let go. Let go of Jesse, let go of the memories, let go of the hope, let go of the heart break.

I never saw him at the festival. Not during the parade or the day after. If he was there, I would never know. But I do know that my heart didn’t let go the way I had promised myself I would let it.

I wanted to write to him and ask him why. I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to break through the lack of communication.
I didn’t.

I let days and weeks pass and most of the time, the moments spent on memories would flutter past. I would catch myself reliving a moment, only to realize it was wasted time. I found myself looking at my husband with a softer look than ever before. He was the safe bet. He had always been there, always stood by, always put up with the highs and lows.

Over Thanksgiving, we travelled up to Ruben’s family in the east bay, and I thought of Jesse and possibly running into him – I couldn’t believe that I still held out hope that he was watching. I had to know that he didn’t care. And more importantly, I shouldn’t care.

Even now, months later, I find myself unable to say that the heart break is over but I do know that the journey with Jesse is over. There is no hope to be had.

My family went through hell and back with my emotional roller coaster and it was unfair for them. I pray that Ruben and I live a long happy life together because I would not wish another heart break like that on anyone, especially my children.

I guess the only thing left to say is:
Goodbye Jesse and good riddance.

The Heart Break Files, part 10

2008-10-04T11:03:00.000-07:00

Day 9 – I think this is the day that just would not quit. Both the kids woke up with colds, were raging lunatics all morning, and then at work I was in back to back meetings, all during my crunch time of the month for work. I thought I was going to seriously lose it. I checked in on myspace and saw that Jesse, who has still not added me as a friend, has changed his profile picture to a darker image where he is wearing a hat, sitting back in a dark leather sofa. From the tiny 1 inch by 1 inch photo, I realized, I would never have recognized him from that! I wondered if he did it on purpose. I wanted to write to him but stopped myself. Not only trying to save what little dignity I had left but also to rush out to a meeting.

During these meetings, I took a major stand to finally expose someone as the failure that they are. This person happened to be one of my very best friends over the last year but I found her more and more grating recently and had really distanced myself from her, growing to despise her. When the powers that be wanted to make her the point person for her department on a huge project that would definitely lead to a promotion down the line, I cut them off and alerted them to the fact that the job would be very detail oriented and well, this person, was dyslexic and would inevitably screw this up where there is no room for anything less than perfection. I hated myself after doing it but I could not stand the idea of her getting this big project, screwing it up, getting promoted, and three months down the line, me getting to do all the clean up work as she reaped the rewards that came with the position. I was not having it.

I went home on a high. Half impressed that I had the guts to speak up, half distressed at my lack of heart. Oh, who am I kidding, my heart went out the window last weekend!

The Heart Break Files, part 9

2008-10-03T11:01:00.000-07:00

Day 8 – This morning, somewhere near 4 am, Ruben whispered, I love you, to me. I mumbled it back, not wanting to seem cold hearted but more than anything, it had been too long since he was giving that kind of thing away and I just didn’t really no what game he was playing but I didn’t want any part of it. I can’t afford heartbreak again and until he and I get a chance to sit down and really talk about what’s going on with us since the huge blow out Sunday night, I don’t want to get any sort of my hopes up.

I stumbled out of bed around 5am and got ready for the day. I actually took a few moments to read a gossip magazine and sip some water before crawling back into bed around 5:45 and shutting my eyes for a bit. Ruben rubbed my back and asked for the time. I told him it wasn’t even six yet and we both just laid there and rested until the coughing in Lexi’s room was too much to ignore. I got up, brought her to my bed, and then found her some tights and a dress to wear to school and the morning quickly fell into the routine rushing around.

I got to work and hit the ground running. I had a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time. I buried myself in accounting and ignored the memories of Jesse. This is a particularly difficult task when my relationship with Jesse started in a math class. We met my freshman year of high school. He was a junior, sitting in the back of the class, wanting to disappear and just pass. I was a freshman, hanging out in the middle, passing notes with my best friend and rolling my eyes at the incompetent teacher up front. I noticed him first. I thought he was hot and started sitting just in front of him. Then, during breaks in the action, I would ask to borrow his eraser or ask how his day was going. After a while, he was comfortable enough to jump into conversations with my friend and I and then, I started passing him notes. I learned that he had a huge crush on a girl named Monica and that he was really trying to win her over. I remember going to a football game, seeing him sitting by her, and though I wanted to strike up a conversation and sit next to him, I didn’t want to run interference on any moves he was trying to make. I caught up with a guy I was casually dating, and we skipped out on the game and headed down to get some snacks from the store. As we were walking out, Jesse walked in. I remember taking a huge side step from him as I didn’t want Jesse to think the other guy and I were together.

The next Monday in class, he wrote me a note, wondering who it was I was seeing and what the deal was. It wasn’t long after that when things started to warm up. Another girl had a crush on the guy I was dating and she attacked me at my locker. She punched me, over and over and I just stood there and let it happen. When word got around to Jesse he refused to let me walk the halls alone and started escorting me to every class and then, he wrote the note that changed everything. Midway through a mundane conversation about random happenings at school, Jesse asked me to be his girlfriend. At first, I questioned if I was just a second pick since things were going no where with Monica but he said it had nothing to do with Monica and I agreed to be an item. We joked later that when we were married we would frame the note and hang it on a wall and tell our grandkids about it. But the pencil lines have no doubt faded, as did our relationship.

The Heart Break Files, part 8

2008-10-02T10:55:00.000-07:00

Day 7 – The morning was a fun one! Lexi was yelling at me for opening her bedroom door before she was ready to wake up and Mateo fought with me over everything. I didn’t know wrestling with a two year old was something that could be such a work out until I actually had a two year old that wanted to wrestle. Ruben was ironing in Mateo’s room as I fought with him to take off the pajamas he was wearing and put on day clothes. I thought to myself that if Ruben wanted to know how I could possibly be so exhausted on the weekends, perhaps he should look at my day-to-day activities during the week. I am one of those people. I am sure there are many more out there. I am the person who wake up an hour before anyone else so she can get ready and then, as her husband does nothing but get himself ready and occasionally “gets the car ready” I am in the house getting two night owl children up and ready, dressed, fed, hair combed, teeth brushed, lunches and homework in hand and out to the car. I drive frantically to the preschool where I drop the kids off, give at least 5 goodbye kisses and hugs, and rush to make it to work on time. I work a solid 8-9 hour day, depending on whether I have carpooled with Ruben or not because if he has the car, well, then, I’m working through lunch. At 5:00pm, on the nose, I hightail it out the door and am in the car to make the mad dash 22 miles away to pick up the kids before school closes at 5:30. Then the fun begins, getting snacks in hand for the car ride home, mediating fights, disciplining kicking and screaming at the dinner table because tonight someone didn’t want chicken on their plate, carrying the patience of a saint as Lexi procrastinates bed time with 130 things she wants to get done at 8:30, and then getting the evening all cleaned up. Yep. That’s what my day looks like. But heaven forbid, after 5 in a row, I might want to rest up a bit. Avoiding the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon is worthy of leaving my life empty of the romantic love that I so desperately need. I am so bitter. Is it obvious?

Ruben fought with me the whole way to work over the placement of the sun visor on my side of the car. He wanted it to block the sunlight from his face while I was driving. I honestly think that if we need to talk to one another right now, it is going to become an argument because that’s all he wants to do. I eventually sat silently, knowing there was no reason to continue this stupidity.

I got to work and felt like I barely stumbled in the door and this is not the right time to be without your composure. Its budget time. On top of it being go time for accounting as it always is for the last couple days of the month and the first couple days of the month, we are also determining our 2009 budget while trying to cut as many costs as we can during this poor economic time. I immediately got to work and tried to force both the men trying to ruin my life out of my head. Right there, in that last sentence, I totally sound like a victim and I do not even care!

I started reconciling September’s Accounts Receivable ledger to the General ledger and was completely disappointed in myself. The 24th was a disaster. I did everything wrong and each item was a rookie mistake. It was clear that I let too much of my personal life bleed into work. I did my adjustments and moved on to reconcile Accounts Payable. Phew! It was clean! An email came from my boss. The powers that be had approved my Human Resources ideas for team building around the station. Now I just needed to pull together a mock up for review and we just might have some resume building criteria. I feel like work is the one place that I can work hard and it shows. If only my home life were the same way. I didn’t really look forward to the ride home. I almost dread what the next fight will be about or how many times I will screw up tonight. I probably shouldn’t think like that. I probably shouldn’t think at all right now but that’s the thing about being a woman. My mind does not shut down. It just rolls through every random bit of information it can, faster than I could even say them aloud which is very cruel.

The car ride home was very quiet until we picked up the children. Mateo had bitten another child in class again. He had never done this until recently. Two weeks ago, his best friend bit him and now he has bitten his friend 3 times! I don’t know how to handle this but I am worried. So, I brought it up in the car. He thought it was funny that we were so worried about him biting kids. Lexi decided to chime in with lots of bossing and controlling. She is a little mother. The only issues come when she decides to boss Ruben and me. That’s where I draw the line on appropriateness. The kids both picked on one another until both were crying or whining alternately and I was thoroughly grateful to hit solid ground when we finally got home.

I did all the normal things, cooked, cleaned up, and then started the bedtime processes. I wanted to grab the camera to take some recent pictures since I haven’t in about a month when I realized it wasn’t where I left it. Ruben said he was worried about it in the car so, he took it into work and must’ve left it there. He decided to go get it from work and bring it back. I was confident that it could wait until the next day but he was sure it couldn’t. It took him almost 2 hours to go 30 miles, grab the camera, and come back. I was sure he wasn’t just going to pick it up. But could I prove anything? No. So, I just had to let it go, its not like he wanted to be my husband anymore anyway.

All night he tried to cuddle me. I completely ignored it as he rubbed my back or put his face against mine and wrapped his arms around me. I figured he was just sleeping and didn’t realize what he was doing and if I did it back, it would be unwarranted affection and he would be pissed. I feel like I am getting very cold hearted these days but I think it’s the only way to protect myself from a complete breakdown.

The Heart Break files, part 7

2008-10-01T10:52:00.000-07:00

Day 6 – I startled awake at 4 am, stumbled into the bathroom and strongly considered just getting up for the day. But my eyelids were almost the size of my lips, swollen with teary irritation. I needed to go back to sleep and hope they would calm down a bit. I woke again at 5 and watched the clock until 530 when I officially decided it could be Monday. Ruben had asked me to wake him when I got up but I thought I would give him another 15 minutes. I got out of the shower and got dressed. My eyelids still huge and I felt no relief from the dire position I was in the night before. I still was wondering if I should look for a place to get the kids and me away from this place. Could I trust Ruben not to lose it again? I whispered to him to rise and shine and then went to put on make up. A little cortisone cream can work wonders on eyes, by the way. He didn’t get up. I finished my hair and make-up and he still wasn’t awake. I crawled back in bed to warm up for a few minutes as he peeked over me to see the time. The clock flipped to six as he stumbled to the shower. I closed my eyes and began to relax at the idea of being alone. “The door is GONE! Can you believe it, Mommy?” Lexi plopped onto the bed and was wide-awake for this time of day. We talked a bit and I assured her that she would be safe and no, Daddy would not break down any more doors. Not hers, not Mateo’s, not any more. After some tickling and cuddling, I had both the kids dressed and out the door. I held my breath as I dropped them off at school, terrified of the response I would get from their teachers that afternoon.

Work was crazy. It was the end of the month and I had wrap up to do on all things financial. I didn’t want to be there and everything felt like it was headed down hill. The Bailout Bill failed to pass, the stock market dropped 778 points and I had a headache I thought was going to split me in half. I ate lunch, checked out the latest gossip blogs, and wished that a fairy would come by and make everything disappear. I wanted to write to Jesse, tell him of the night before. Ask him if he thought I should move out. Would that be the needed catalyst to make my life make sense again? Because I really feel that just a couple short weeks ago, before I started reconnecting and pushing buttons I shouldn’t push, my life was FINE! Now, I am not certain I have anything left. I did a little research online. I started by looking up marriage counselors. Then, I went to looking for a good punching bag, and after that, I started looking for 2 bedroom apartments near my kids’ school. Is this really the way things were going? An overwhelming gloom sat over me and the entire US. My mom sent me a message that she was opening up an SMA (Sealy Mattress Account) and that I should buy all the canned food I could today. I thought my twenties were supposed to be some of the best years of my life.

I always thought Jesse and I had some sort of psychic connection (the song radar love comes into my head every time I think about this) and I always thought when I really needed him to rescue me, he would call or email me or something. I must’ve been wrong about it though because I keep calling out in my most desperate of telepathic communications and I know he knows my email, knows my number, knows everyway to get to me and he doesn't. Therefore, either we have the connection and he chooses to ignore it or we just don't. Daily, I am breaking down all my romantic image of him and the love we used to share. Still, I find nothing is filling those holes. My life is feeling ever emptier.

I came home tonight, barely able to keep my lunch down with the nausea that comes from light and sound sensitivities associated with a migraine. At the door was just what I needed. Halloween is my favorite holiday. For one night, you give endlessly to hundreds of strangers who are dressed up in the most amazing of costumes. They are who they have always wanted to be for just that one night. The streets are safe to roam and neighbors who have never talked can be friends for the first time ever. Along with all this magic also comes a thing called a boo. Its a secret gift, given to someone by an anonymous friend and the friend then passes a boo onto another friend. My boo was just what I needed, a reminder that I have great friends and only 32 days to Halloween. I've already begun planning my boo. Its going to be great!

I filled the evening with mundane chores. Anything I could do to have Ruben see that I was not being lazy. If some dishes were divorce worthy, by golly, I would have them picked up because it wasn’t worth the risk. I made dinner, emptied the washer, set the table, fed everyone, cleared the table, did the dishes, made the kids lunches, wiped down the counters and stove, ran two loads of laundry, showered the kids, got them ready for bed, gave Mateo his medicine for the raging ear infection that he has been torturing us all with and put the kids to bed. I felt guilty about it but I landed on the bed around nine and decided there was no reason to get up. We still went to bed with the sheet crammed between us, like a barrier.

The Heart Break Files, part 6

2008-09-30T10:49:00.000-07:00

Day 5 – I woke up before 10 this morning. I think I will consider that an achievement, even if the only reason I got up was to answer my mom's phone call. I had 19 new emails but all were junk mail, just another slap in my face that I was not worth having in Jesse’s life. In the process of deleting the new messages, I accidently deleted all the old ones, too. I was furious. I no longer had every note he had written me during our brief re-encounter. Then I realized how much I needed to get rid of that baggage anyway. Even if I didn't think I was ready to.

Does it really count that I am awake if I am just planted in front of the TV for hours of mindless reality TV shows? My guess- not so much.

I find myself thinking, I just want to go home but I am home so, what's missing? I think it may be time to pull out the big guns and do some retail therapy to get me out of my funk. I'm pretty sure that a new pair of shoes and some fun tights are just the way for me to enter the autumn season and could possibly be the link to me moving out of the denial and depression switch off I have been in. Besides, if I find some really hot boots, I'll have no choice but to fling myself into a Nancy Sinatra-esque mood and start my boots on walking all over my Jesse memories until I have successfully accomplished my anger phase and whole heartily face another stage of grief.

I got in the shower, got myself all cleaned up, and ready for an attack on the retail world when I looked outside and saw my husband hard at work. I couldn't go spend money when he was working on the yard. That would terrible. Then, right when I was going to jump in and help, he had to blow it. He came in and shouted at me for not helping and all my hard headed resistance stood up in me and there was no way I wanted to assist him while he was in righteous martyr asshole mode and I told him so. That resulted in him telling me I had best have another place to live in when we sell this place because he sure as hell was not going to live with me again. I assured him I would find a place big enough for just the kids and me. He stormed out and I realized that this kind of behavior is the kind of thing that if I weren't so damn stubborn it would be enough for me to give up all hope and just leave. Too bad I'm a raging Irish girl.

I said, why wait? I started to get the kids ready to leave for a bit – told him I wasn’t sure if we would be back that night and he was furious that I would leave but I kept pointing out that he said he didn’t want to live with me and he kept asking about the kitchen and we went round and round until he lost his temper, he stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. The kids and I were just on the other side. I reached out to the handle, wanting to come in and talk and that’s when it started. We heard a slam, I took a step back, and then there was another as Ruben punched the master bedroom door down and terrified the kids and me. I almost called the police but the phone was in the master bedroom, which is where he was so, instead, I left with the kids and went to my sister’s house to try to calm the kids down. We ate dinner and the kids played with their cousins as I talked it over with my sister. I have a feeling Ms. Stephanie at school is going to be asking me about this one because BOTH the kids still won’t stop talking about it.

I came home around 9, put the kids to bed and Ruben and I talked about how scared I was and how could he jump to not wanting to be together and breaking down a door over some dishes? And he kept asking again about the dishes (I cleaned the kitchen when I got home) but I told him I couldn’t change what happened earlier, all I could do is look for an action plan for the future. What kind of assurance do I have that he wouldn’t do that again? Or worse? He gave no answer. Then I asked what he wanted to do. He asked me. I told him I wanted to work it out but my answer is irrelevant because he obviously holds the reins in our relationship. He said that he was sure we would have another fight. He wanted to try to make it work but he was sure we would have another fight like that in the future and it was probably time to face that we were not meant for one another. I sobbed and he sat down beside me and said, “I love you, you know that, right? I do love you”

“No.” I answered. “I don’t know that! You know I’ve been unsure about us for a long time. How long have you known we weren’t meant for each other?”

“I didn’t say that! I said we many have to face we don’t belong together – why are you crying?”

“I’ve given you 8 years of my life. I have given you my everything! We have two kids and a house and I always looked to the big picture. I was in this forever but you haven’t been.”

“Sometimes, love isn’t enough, Allison. I do love you but I don’t think we were ready for all of this.”

“Maybe you weren’t ready but that doesn’t mean you are supposed to give up!”

“You can’t say you were ready for this”

“I was! I was ready to get married! Ready to have the children we have! Ready to buy a home – obviously not this one, it’s a complete project house and I don’t think either of us could’ve foreseen spending all the time and effort we did on this home only to have the flood and need to start over. It isn’t fair but it is what it is and we just need to deal.”

He was silent and then walked away. I followed into the bedroom, impressed that the door was removed and debris had been cleared. He was in the bathroom, applying Neosporin to his fist and arm. I offered up bandages and he barked for me to go to bed. I felt like my heart had been run over by a train – a train with lots of cars carrying lots of cargo. He came out to the couch and asked me to come to bed. I spent the next 3 hours watching the clock from our queen sized bed, amazed that I could still read the time through the blur of the tears that rolled down my face.

The Heart Break Files, part 5

2008-09-29T10:52:00.000-07:00

Day 4 - I woke at 630 to a sad little Mateo at my side. I turned on Cat in the Hat for him, got him a baggy of cereal, and made the decision to head back to bed. At around 8, I went to push play on the DVD player again and by the third time, around 930, Ruben got up and showered. He jumped on me, in an attempt to be funny but I was pissed. I had been so asleep that this was the equivalent to someone throwing a brick at your head for no reason. "Its time to wake up" he said. "I'm going to make some breakfast". I shouted some obscenities and pretended to go back to sleep. By 1015, I was up and watching cartoons with the kids. Ruben was immediately on my case about cleaning and I barked back at him that he was lucky I was awake. In truth, he was right, I needed to clean but I much rather would’ve been sleeping so I didn't feel the aching in my heart. Would Jesse be harassing me right now if I had married him instead? My memory said no but my current interpretation of him weighed in and decided that was probably a yes. In making pancakes, Ruben lit the stove on fire and, rushing over to help, I tripped on a steel toe boot and was pretty sure I broke my pinky toe. That became a big furry of throwing everyone's everything where it goes.

I spent the entire morning cleaning and then decided, like the best revenge, I should look my best. I took a long shower brushed my teeth 4 times, and got into my favorite jeans. Then I realized, there was no one to really care if I looked good or not. I flopped on my bed and wished I didn't have to be up for the rest of the day. I was not quite that lucky. Within minutes of laying down, Ruben threw a grocery list at me and ordered me out. I'm pretty sure its not a good idea to send an unhappy woman to the store. It just might be worse than shopping hungry.

There was really only one thing I was looking forward to for this weekend: I had planned a girls night out. We were going to head over to a slummy bar called outlaws, have a few margaritas, shoot some pool, and bitch about our lives until we were so drunk we were laughing. This is the way girl’s night usually works and believe me, I'm long overdue for one. Of course, one phone call changed it all, you see, the planned had been invited somewhere else, somewhere she deemed better so, she was out. Since she was out, two others thought well maybe another night would be better for them, too, and another couldn't find a sitter, which left just me. Fine! I'll stay home. I pretty much decided all my friends were assholes, right there. Did they not realize their manic besty was trying to figure out her bazaar emotional status and would need several opinions and lots of tequila to do it? Obviously not! So Ruben rented a movie, a MAN movie, and I was expected to cook dinner and take care of the kids and then watch the damn movie with him. I, of course, decided this entirely blows and I locked myself in the bathroom to recount the many man movies I have watched. There is only one that really was coming to mind. Jesse wanted me to watch braveheart with him. It was his favorite movie ever and it was completely not something I would ever want to watch but that didn't matter because I loved him and besides, within minutes we were too wrapped up in eachother to know who was killing what in that movie. I never felt like I could get close enough to him, though I tried. And I still don't know how that movie turns out.

To my own luck, the man movie wouldn't read on our DVD player and Ruben had rented another: Baby Mama. Just what I needed a little romantic comedy. Normally, I would finish watching a movie like that and have total baby fever but not this time. I don't think my head is in the right place right now to even consider having another child. Then again, my kids are the only people I am certain love me unconditionally and permanently which is more than I can say about any past or present romantic partner in my life.

The Heart Break Files, part 4

2008-09-28T10:46:00.000-07:00

Day 3 – I had a weird dream about Jesse last night and damn it! I am not over it. Oh jeez! As I write this, the Rick Springfield song, Jessie’s Girl is on the radio. Is that a sign? Anyway, back to the dream. In it, I stole Jesse away from his girlfriend and then used magic to shrink him to a tiny size so that his girlfriend wouldn’t find him. And I ran him all over the place, trying to keep him for myself but in the end, I ended up sitting across a table from her with him, standing on the ground behind me and I could see how much she wanted him in her life so I gave him back and reversed the spell so that he grew to be the normal size. What the heck does that mean? If I recall, you are supposed to represent every person in your dreams so, was this my subconscious saying that running around, wanting to keep him for myself was making me a smaller person? When I gave him back, was that sort of like me processing through the idea of finally moving on? And, why, when I come into work everyday do I totally agonize over him, day in and day out? You would think, getting over someone you had not even seen in 8 years, let alone heard from would be a breeze. Am I just emotionally inept? I am beginning to think my heart is pretty lame.

I keep looking at the 7 stages of grief, trying to figure out where I am.
· Shock or Disbelief
· Denial
· Bargaining
· Guilt
· Anger
· Depression
· Acceptance and Hope
Pretty sure that I float all over the first six without really spending any time in acceptance and hope. I wish that the grief process were a little more straightforward.

I went from a long meeting straight to lunch which helped me limit my thoughts but, at lunch, I met up with my little sister who is in the middle of her own life crisis so, I thought we would focus on those but the first questions she had were about my MySpace message about being depressed and I gave her a quick run down and she stated, in what felt like a sharp stab in my heart, “I always thought he was the one for you.” It hurt and it resonated with me through the rest of the lunch. I talked about my epiphany last night and how I realized how much I had grown since then and how Ruben had been great enough to stand by me and while I wasn’t sure who my soul mate was anymore, I was sure that that kind of support was something. Ok, what’s the deal with 80’s stations airing the same songs in the same day? This is the second time Jessie’s Girl has played and I’m starting to wonder if it’s a coincidence. That’s the problem with being left with your own thoughts too long, they eventually start rolling into one big cluster of a mess and before you know it, you think there is a meaning to EVERYTHING. I need to focus on something else.

The beauty of getting over the men in my life in the past is that I never had to continue living while I tended to my broken heart. I could stop everything and focus in. This time I have account executives in my face, worrying about co-op clients and I have a payroll to review and kids who want to play and a husband who deserves my attention. They all fight for attention right now as I try to steal away and hurt for a bit. I still have not cried yet and I really feel like I need to. I'm just really afraid that when I do take that time, I may not be able to turn off the water works.

The evening was harder than I thought. I made dinner and by time I had sat down, all I wanted to do is hide. I wanted to sleep my grief away. I ate dinner with the family and I gave my best attempt at being awake but by 8, I had convinced Ruben I needed a nap. I lay down and the memories of holding Jesse flooded in. I remembered his tender kisses and keeping my arms wrapped around his waste, under his jacket to keep warm. I would nestle my head into his chest and breathe him in. He tucked his face down into my hair and I could feel him smelling in my blonde waves.

I tossed over, on to my side, trying to wash the thoughts from my head but then came the rage. I saw Jesse and I sitting in his little beat up Nissan truck in a parking lot behind a Baskin Robbins. It was a cold winter day and I had on a sweater and a jacket but was still shivering from the cold. I asked if we could turn the heater on but he shunned the idea with an explanation that gas was not cheap and if he turned the heat on, we wouldn't be able to get home. Which, in looking at the gas gauge at the quarter mark and knowing we lived just a few miles away, I knew this was complete garbage. He lit up a cigarette and I stared out the window, angry with myself for being in love with such a jerk.

I woke up around 10. I was still tired but felt terrible about having left Ruben to put the kids to bed by himself. We watched the comedy channel and then went to bed. I knew I was starting to head into more than a flirting relationship with depression as I rested on my pillow. I could sleep through the entire weekend if someone would let me, I thought.

The Heart Break Files, part 3

2008-09-27T10:41:00.000-07:00

Day 2 – I got up, checked my blackberry and found myself more furious with each piece of junk email in my inbox. Each one was a new message slap in the face that he had not written. So, I haven’t healed – not at all. I went to work and tried to search out his MySpace page, see when he last logged in. Sept 22nd, the day before the heartbreak. Damn.

I wanted to find her, the woman who was filling my shoes. I wanted to see her world but only knowing her first name and her rough location, that was not really working. I was agonizing over everything. How do I stop? I caught myself sitting at my desk day dreaming about the past. I remember early on, his sweet face one morning as we had been rolling around and then he started to cry and said he wasn’t ready. I could find someone else that was, but he was not. He would understand if I left him. Tears rolling down his face, I held him to me and said that I was not leaving him. I loved him and that was more important. And then flash – over to his washer and drier as he did his laundry, smiling proudly about how crisp and white his t-shirts turn out because he has just the right system. I needed to stop. I needed to move away. I needed to breathe. God! I wanted to snuggle my face in his chest and just smell him one more time. The scent of laundry detergent and old spice and man, all mixed together. I went to lunch with a girlfriend and we talked about anything but him. He was on my heart but for one hour, I needed him off my mind. I was sure that my work was slipping and even more worried about my marriage. I wanted desperately to throw all my energy into my husband, all my love, all my care but I knew if I didn’t suffer through these raw emotions in a successful way, they would keep coming back. Would it have been easier for me to have just had a damn affair? I am beginning to think it might have!

Evenings seem to be better. I am not sure if its just being surrounded by my spouse and kids or if its that there is wine near by. I cracked open a bottle of Silverstone Syrah, turned on my slow songs playlist on my ipod and got to business. I sat and went through all the pictures I had saved from my past and read through old journals and relived all the feelings, in hopes that I could put all the guilt and regret and heart ache to rest once and for all. With each photo, I remembered the place, the time, the smells, sounds, and how I felt. I sat and breathed it in and, unless it was a good memory, I put it in the toss pile. I found myself putting a lot of old pleasant times into the trash pile and found a lot of relief in that. I made a special pile for all my Jesse photos. I would deal with those after. When I was done with the photos, I had gotten rid of close to half of my total collection and I saw a huge change of who I was and who I am now. Then I went through old journals and was amazed and disappointed by the shallow and self-centered little girl I had been. I saw my self-discoveries and my integrity develop, long after I remembered it. Apparently, my memory had failed me on a lot. I was glad to rip away pages and put them in the garbage. I did not need or want those memories in my life.
Finally, it was time to go through the Jesse pile. I went through each picture so slowly. I wanted to cry but I can't yet. I am not there yet. I remembered making a cake for his birthday and it being hideous so I bawled about it and begged my sister to run out and get a store bought one. There were the pictures of him blowing out the candles on the cake, the ones after he saw the ugly home made cake, and he still loved me in all my hopelessness. I saw how young we were and I felt the tension of being too young and in love all over again. Each photo held so much memory but it held so much more to me, too. Each photo was baggage. Each photo was a razor blade that had seared my heart. I threw them all away and didn't look back. I felt the whole thing to be amazingly cathartic and walked out, for the first time, instead of being regretful of who I had been, I found myself proud of the distance I had come and the person who I was turning out to be. This renewed me had much bigger shoes to fill and a life worth having.

The Heart Break Files, part 2

2008-09-26T10:39:00.000-07:00

Day 1 - I totally vented to anyone who would listen and by anyone – I mean ANYONE. I told my boss, my co-workers, I even told a business contact from another media outlet that I have never even met. I had lunch with my sister, and, to be honest, it was her influence in the first place that caused us to lose touch so many years ago so, I was a little afraid of what I would hear from her and I was pretty sure, deep down, we all knew she deserved a bit of blame. But, to my surprise, she put it very nicely. “He must’ve put you on that very same pedestal that you put him on. The memories of your relationship must’ve been so great and he must still love you enough to think it was worth risking.” I sat there and that was sweet but did it solve my problems? Not at all. I went home, and revolted against the norm. I wanted to cry and be mad and beg for another chance. I ordered take out, drank a beer, and took a shower by myself. I watched a sneak preview of a premier and when I went to bed, Ruben lit a candle. He was tender and sweet and for the night, I felt like I was in the right arms. I was in the right place and healing these wounds would be easier than I thought.

The Heart Break Files, part 1

2008-09-25T10:37:00.000-07:00

Recently (having young children I always want to follow that with, “yes, recently”) I was surfing through people on MySpace when, to my surprise, I saw someone I thought to be dead. However, it was not just someone. It happened to be the ex-love of my life. A person that I was sure, had we not lost one another, we would be together and when I was told he had passed away, I was completely shattered. But the beauty of his passing was that I never had to give up my ideal of him. For me, he would always be that complete romantic, swept up in the passion, love will keep us alive kind of man. Now, seeing his face, his name staring at me, I was shocked. Could this really be him? Almost automatically, I wrote to him. Telling him I thought he had passed away and how relieved I was to see that he was not dead. I asked him to tell me that he was happy in life and that he had found love and found himself over the years that had passed. I waited. Almost two months passed before I heard back. Instantly, all the feelings that I had stored away rushed back to me and, as I tried to push them back to the corner of my heart that they had taken up residence, we continued to correspond. I shared the sadness of my college years and the craziness of my marriage but mostly, I gushed about the complete blessing that my children are. He talked about where he lived and his girlfriend. Over all the emails, I kept feeling that he wasn’t getting my tone. My gentle, friendly nature. If I were not married and did not have children and he did not have his girlfriend, I am quite confident I would pursue a relationship but the facts remained. I am married, I have children, he has a girlfriend, and I would not risk any of those things for either of us. I asked if we could talk on the phone, hoping less would be misunderstood. He ignored the request and ventured to say that he would not live with himself if he broke up a family. Clearly, he did not understand my intentions. So, I laid it out there, I was sorry that he had confused my desires, I had no interest in being more than friends, this would be my last email, the choice was his. He could email me back as just a friendly acquaintance and we could continue our pen pal relationship or he could not.
He did not.

I had told him that I would respect either choice but I will admit, I not only did not respect this choice I was appalled. How could he get such a message from the emails I sent? I had not only encouraged his relationship but also questioned why they were not married, offered to send the ring he gave me to him so he could propose with it. It clearly was not serving me any purpose so, it should go to someone who would love it. I learned I had met his current girlfriend. How could I interfere with that? Moreover, who would risk their family for something like that? Certainly, he thought I was of the moral character to do that and that hurt. And he must have been of the moral character to go there and that completely altered the view I had saved of him. I know that most people are better as a memory but I felt completely betrayed by my memory, by my heart, and by the once upon a time love of my life.

While this is something that I should be able to brush aside and move on, living happily ever after with my spouse and children, I am instead presented with the problem that I now truly need to face that he and I were not perfect for each other and we would not be together. Essentially, I needed to heal from a break-up while still loving my spouse and kids. How do you face heartbreak when your heart should have been somewhere else all along? And how do you move on when you have already moved forward?

These are the things I am going to need to figure out.

First Day of School

2008-09-05T19:55:00.000-07:00

So, they went to school – and they didn’t hate it. In fact, Lexi has been begging to spend “all the days and all the nights” there. Mateo tolerates it. At the end of the day, he says he had fun and the teacher confirms that he’s had a good day but I think he’s going to be resentful.
Got them to let me take a few photos to commemorate the day…

Proud Parenting

2008-09-05T12:52:00.000-07:00

Taught my daughter to tell her father to pucker up and kiss this (index finger to right butt cheek) – probably one of my very best parenting moments as of yet.

Tomorrow is the End...

2008-09-01T22:39:00.000-07:00

The first day is tomorrow. They don’t realize it as they sleep peacefully in their beds but tomorrow is the beginning of the rest of their lives.
You see, tomorrow my children will start preschool. From that day on, they will be dialed into 5 days a week for the rest of their lives. Gone will be the free playing and goofing around as they please. They will be accountable for progress, expected to follow the routine. They fell asleep so peacefully, but if they knew would they ever forgive me? Nah, probably not but then again what are parents for if not to blame every last misery on at a later date in front of a therapist charging you $ 95 an hour.

The things they say

2008-08-31T17:06:00.000-07:00

Went to Avila Valley barn with the family today. We were going along on a hay ride when Lexi started tossing the straw everywhere. She was throwing it in people’s hair and off the side of the wagon and annoying the shit out of just about everyone. When she threw some down Mateo’s shirt, that’s where I drew the line. I told her to knock it off and make it better. When I turned a couple minutes later to check her progress she was shaking the crap out of her brother. So I asked her what the heck she was doing. “I’m getting the gay out of Mteo” she said. Somewhere in the mix of the day she had thought hay was pronounced gay but I had to just let it ride because this was, of course, my feather boa loving, high heel wearing, make-up obsessed son that had been hiding in my closet earlier in the morning that she was referring to. Oh the things they say!

2008-08-31T10:38:00.000-07:00

I am beginning to realize that my son was born with a built in alarm clock. Every morning he wakes up before six thirty, rain or shine, six o’ clock bed time or 10. What I want to know is where the damn snooze button is.

Say Cheese

2008-08-13T16:43:00.000-07:00

Ok, we needed some pictures on here, far too texty for my tastes...

This is as close to Ruben smiling as we are going to get....

Mateo might be a bit excited in this one!

Lexi - Hammin' it up as usual

Mateo with the pose that keeps him from being murdered sometimes...

Lexi - goofy as usual...

I'm trying to teach Mateo to cheese it up...

2008-08-13T15:25:00.001-07:00

So, I’m sitting here, eating a cookie, wondering why the hell I am so fat. This is the part where I throw in a nasally, “its not faaaiiiirrrr!!!!”

Silly Mom - pockets are for Crazies!

2008-08-07T09:43:00.001-07:00

In the car this morning, Lexi leans forward from her car seat, shouting, “Here Mommy! Heeerrreee!!”
I look back to see her arm outstretched with her forefinger and thumb pinched together.
“Here Mommy, I have a coin for you!”
I looked at her, so excited about her imaginary coin but was too tired too care much so I replied, “Oh, Thank you, Honey. Can you put it in your pocket for me?”
She reaches down to see her dress and says back, “I don’t have a pocket, Mom!”
“Can you pretend you have one?”
“No! I can’t because that would be crazy – really crazy, Mom!”
So the imaginary coin is completely acceptable but an imaginary pocket to put it in is crazy?
Now you understand why I was too tired to care! This kind of logic exhausts the crap out of me!

2008-08-03T10:59:00.000-07:00

Today was a completely wasted effort – no comedic relief, no dramatic climax, no fulfilling ending – if I truly am the director of the movie that is my life – can I just delete this scene to not waste any valuable screen time?

Mike, Mike, and Mike

2008-07-30T13:52:00.000-07:00

So, Ruben and I went to the STP concert the other night – yea, I know, you know that already but there is more to tell.
That night we were sitting in our seats, waiting for the music to start and in walk six of the craziest guys I’ve seen since my sorority days. There was Matt, John, PJ (or DJ or SOMETHING J) and three other guys that seemed to be straight out of American Pie. DJ (I’m just going to pick this and run with it) had to be the person Adam Herz modeled Stifler after – I mean he looked, sounded, and personified that character.

These six guys were clearly thrilled to be at the concert and when the seats filled in front of them, they started to introduce themselves. Well, Michelle and Mike were first to break the ice. They were from Fresno or something and were quite the chatter boxes. After that came Alicia and another Mike.

These grown men acted like they had never met two people with the same name. They were SO EXCITED that they had two Mikes in front of them.

So, Ruben gives me a glance and a “I’m about to cause some trouble” smile and I nod, knowingly.

DJ turns around and asks our names and I introduce myself as Alli and Ruben, puts out his hand and says, “I’m Mike”

I swear, I would’ve been shocked if there was a pair of dry pants in that row of boys. Three Mikes in one tiny space was more than they could handle. For the rest of the night, these guys could not get over the three Mikes and we could not get over their excitement.

I wonder what they would think if they only knew…

The Ways We Belong Together

2008-07-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

The other day (7/20 to be exact) Ruben and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary. As a present, my parents gave us money to go out to dinner so, being that every dollar I get these days goes to something responsible, I forced us to enjoy the money and go out. We went to the Apple Farm in San Luis Obispo. Neither of us had been there in our adult life so it seemed like a nice choice. Normally, during dinner, we would casually talk about our days until an uncomfortable silence would set in and then, for the rest of the evening we would be pulling teeth from one another to get conversation going again. That night, that was not a problem.
Part way through dinner, we were talking about pet owning and Ruben said that I was a bad pet owner. I said, “Look who’s talking!” – he has a ferret that he never plays with.
“Ferrets are supposed to be loving and cuddly”
and he said, “So. Are. You”.
Way to be mean on a nice night out! Were we not supposed to be celebrating our love for one another? I swear!

That’s about when I swatted his forehead with a spoon covered in vanilla ice cream.

I think it was the best date we’ve been on in a long time.

Scott Weiland's Big Mouth

2008-07-28T16:23:00.001-07:00

So, the fair is here. And, unlike last year where I was drooling over every entertainer that had signed on, there were very few that I wanted to see. Ruben got tickets to STP which of course rocked my world because, you never know how long Scott Weiland is going to last – I mean, tomorrow he could be in jail, or in rehab, or in another band. We held our breath for 6 weeks as we waited to see if Scott would still be around for the show and then, Saturday rolled around and with babysitter all set, we got to the show.

There is something so phenomenal about these rocker/drug addicts! I mean, I am in love! They get on stage and sing and have those outfits (costumes) and I sit there and wonder why I didn’t keep on drumming until I met one of my own and married him.

So, there they are – on stage – rockin my world and Scott Weiland opens his mouth to speak. “It smells like cow shit here.”
Ok, Jackass, thanks, we can all smell it.

“I happen to like the smell of cow shit because it reminds me of growing up in Ohio, where I used to ride horses and party in the barn and that’s where I had my first orgy”
Ok, seriously? Either my crotch is full of spider-webs or that was inappropriate. Just shut up, queue the next song and let’s get back to rocking.

So, a few more songs play, he makes a comment about how Paso would be kind of cool if it didn’t smell like cow shit, goes back to playing and then…
“I want to apologize for being late, this evening. I am sorry. I was buying furniture at a liquidation sale and I got delayed. Truly. So, I am sorry”
What the hell, dude? We were all just rocking out to Plush, we don’t need your reasoning. We don’t even need an apology because none of us realized you were late to the stage – but now? Now you seem like a pretentious asshole which is just not as sexy as you were 30 minutes ago when you hit the stage.

Photo by Ms. Jesseca Meyer - when she has a site, I'll tell you all about it because she rocks everything from family portraits to weddings to concerts and I adore her!

2008-07-09T16:34:00.000-07:00

I’m boredom emailing people – it’s the office equivalent of drunk dialing… Some one save me!

Bump in the Night

2008-07-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

When a sound comes crashing through the night and wakes me, I fully expect my husband to jump to his feet with a bat in hand and go scan the house, in hunt of the culprit and beat it to a pulp, assuming it isn’t one of the kids or pets.

This is never the case. Instead it goes a little more like this:

I startle awake and sink lower into the covers trying to think of what I had worn to bed and what could be making that noise at the same time. I whisper to my husband, “did you hear that?”
He of course replies that he did. I then get a bit impatient with him, or is that just the immediacy I feel from the terror triggering a need to pee. “well…are you going to go see what it was?”
He rolls over, sniffles a few times and huffs, “Why don’t you go look?”

Um hello?!? Because I’m supposed to be the wife in the relationship!!! “Please go look, I’m in my panties and a t-shirt, I don’t want to die in my panties and a t-shirt”
“Oh, so you are going to send me to die in my underwear?”
“Just go look – you have all those weapons”
I start to get whiny and beggy but I know, it will be me. He pushes me out of the bed and I stumble around in the dark. I sneak around the house, peek out the slider into the back yard and out the bay window in the front and then, I turn on all the lights I can. I wait a few minutes before moving, check in on the kids, open and close the front door, lock it again, and then finally turn off all the lights, go pee, and crawl back to bed.

“well?” He asks.

“Nothing” I sigh…

Five minutes later, it happens again and I lay in bed wide-eyed, waiting for him to get up.
He never does…
That’s my night in shining armor for you.

Ewww--That Smell

2008-06-18T16:55:00.000-07:00

I was out camping this weekend and after the children went to sleep, we all sat around the campfire and stared off. We would chit chat about this and that and I even was able to educate my father on exactly what a glory hole is (although I would have much rather had him look it up) but the conversation seemed to die and the wind was howling so I retreated to the tent.

It was within minutes of my escape that I could hear the conversation move to passing gas and then, I heard something I would have never, in my wildest dreams, been able to make up. It went sort of like this:

Sister: sometimes my burps can compete with Denver’s farts

Dad: oh I know, your mom can be terrible

Sister: No really, like I burp and the smell in my mouth is so foul that it has to be worse than any fart I have ever done

Me from the tent: That is just wrong

Sister: there was this one time when I went to get revenge on Tyler so I walked up and burped in his face and just the smell of all those sulfides coming out of my mouth almost made ME throw up. Tyler’s eyes watered. I was almost embarrassed.

Makes me really glad she wasn’t sleeping in the same tent I was!

Bathroom Confessions

2008-06-13T14:35:00.000-07:00

I have a confession: everyday, for a minimum of 20 minutes, I try to hide from my family in the bathroom. It is the one place that I think I can escape and should deserve full privacy so, somewhere between putting dinner together and doing the dishes, I sneak away and relax.

I’ve been doing this since I was a young kid and would have to go to the bathroom conveniently when the dishes needed done and I knew if I spent enough time in there, when I got out, they would be done. I would read ranger rick and highlights magazines and zone out for a while. In a weird way, it was my favorite part of the day…

Now that I am a grown-up, (sort of) I still seek an escape with a book or magazine into the bathroom and can just sit there for as long as the kids will let me. My husband has walked in several times and stated that with the amount of time I am in the bathroom, I must be pooping far more than is healthy. I have told him time and again that I am not actually *going* to the bathroom but he does not seem to understand. I wonder if I am at the beginning stages of this woman

I may be but if I am, at least I know I am happy there…

Suck a Doofus!

2008-06-12T11:10:00.000-07:00

A little email correspondence that hopefully some of you will find humorous…someone? Anyone?

From: A
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 8:56 AM
To: G
Subject: Suck a doofus!

I realized right after I talked about national donut day how that sounds coming out of the office fat girl’s mouth… I swear, I’m not that huge of a heifer.

From: G
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 8:59 AM
To: A
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

You shut your mouth!! You are NOT the office fat girl, get real!! Um hello I love food more than shopping, napping, indoor sports, pretty much everything. Food is my friend. I’m so hungover that donuts sound absolutely delicious, why the hell didn’t sandy bring in anything today LOL!!!

From: A
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 9:14 AM
To: G
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

I just noticed I wrote “suck a doofus”, not “such a doofus”. Yep, I think that confirms it!

A

From: G
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 9:15 AM
To: A
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

i think that may be my new favorite insult….’suck a doofus!’
when is egg mcmuffin day, I’m totally down for that too!

From: A
Sent: Friday, June 06, 2008 10:12 AM
To: G
Subject: RE: Suck a doofus!

I like it!

Sadly, I don’t think there is an egg mcmuffin day, which sucks because that is the ULTIMATE hangover breakfast.

I think we should make one. And spread the word. Maybe, Mc Donald’s could pay us for the advertisement. And we could be rich and quit…
Ah, who am I kidding, We should just go stuff our pie holes with Greasy, gooey, delicious egg mcmuffins and shout “suck a doofus!” at anyone who looks at us the wrong way.

A

Kids these days...

2008-06-12T10:45:00.000-07:00

You know, sometimes, I am fairly certain that my children are fully capable of transforming into Goblins straight out of the movie
Labyrinth…

2008-05-31T09:35:00.000-07:00

So, as promised, here's a bit more updated photo of the kids and me. We were in St. Maartin, the first port of a beautiful cruise in April of this year. I know you're jealous, I can feel it. I just don't know if you are more jealous of the cruise or the fact that we have mastered the ability to get our kids to sit in their strollers even though they are old enough to know better.

And here is a picture of little man and me. Aren't we cheesy?

I swear, this boy would be my shadow if he could! Didn't they

cut the umbilical cord 2 years ago?

And another super-cheesy picture of Lexi and I from back in the DARK brown hair hair days...

Kind of heavy, huh?

See...I promised new photos...

and as a grand finale:

Ruben at the entrance for the nude beach in St. Maarten.

Pinching the girl's butt, of course!

A Hairy Situation

2008-05-28T16:37:00.001-07:00

For my entire marriage my husband has been clear about wanting me to forever look exactly as I did when he met me. Of course, that meant to me that I should change my look in every way imaginable to see if I could make myself even MORE desirable to him. It was simple in my mind, he just didn’t know what he really liked so, I cut off all my waist-length blonde hair and I changed make-up, I experimented with every tone of blonde dye there was, I got tattoos, and piercings, and you name it, I changed it at least 3 different ways. And this past year was no different.

This last time, I asked Ruben how he wanted me to style my hair next and having had very poor luck telling me to leave it alone, he told me to dye it dark – very dark. Not recognizing his reverse psychology, I did just that. I went to the salon and told my stylist to give me the darkest brown my complexion could handle. Boy was I surprised when I walked out of there 4 hours later looking Italian. I asked Ruben what he thought but he just shrugged the way he always did. So, I kept it up for four months. Finally, I was ready to go back – back to the way I looked when we got married. So, I went to the salon again but this time, my stylist, damn her, was on vacation so, I was seated with the newbie in the salon. She sat me down and asked what I wanted and when I showed her a picture, she immediately excused herself for a moment. Sweat bullets started to pour off my forehead. I had chosen to come in on the day of my birthday party and if this young, frightened chick screwed up my hair I was going to be pissed!

She returned after 5 or so minutes with the owner of the salon. A woman in her mid 60’s with spiky hair and an apparent urge to belong to Jem and the Rockers, needless to say, she was a bit frightening to look at, almost like a train wreck, terrible but you just can’t bring yourself to look away. She jumped right into my 18 inch comfort zone and said, “this will not be happening today” . My heart sunk. She spent the next half hour arguing with me about the fact that I was not a natural blonde, not now, not ever. She offered me heavy highlights and said to return in 6 weeks for more work.

I got the heavy highlights because I felt that some blonde would be better than none. I walked out of the salon with white blotches where the bleach had been left too long because – low and behold, I really was a blonde under that dye and the bleach really took. Despite my own insecurities about the look (I thought I looked like an albino leopard had planted itself on my head) I got a ton of compliments.

I of course, thought I could make it better. I could do what I had wanted because, after all, what would a professional know that I wouldn’t?

Perhaps that peroxide can lighten hair but not lighten dye?
Shit!
I went through 4 boxes of hair dye in one night and sadly ended up with the top 4 inches of my hair an white-orange color and the bottom, no different from how I left the salon. Through the course of the weekend I would dye my hair another two times, finally to a brown to cover all my mistakes and made an appointment to head back to the salon on Saturday.

I sat and bawled my eyes out at how terribly I had screwed up and my husband just sat there and laughed.

I went on Saturday and had them put it back EXACTLY the way it was for my birthday.

5 months later, I’m still slowly adding to the heavy highlights and killing my hair slowly to get it back to what it once was…

Hello...I'm Back

2008-05-22T14:21:00.001-07:00

I haven’t written in – eh, hem – a LONG time and for that I am truly sorry to the whole 3 of you who choose to check me out daily. I have had a disastrous almost year-off writing but from it, comes a lot of great material. I know, I know, you are on the edge of your seats, waiting to cackle at the craziness that seems to seep into my life from every corner but this is meant more to be a “hey, sorry its been so long but I’m here now…” kind of thing.

I promise, there will be more that is much funnier by the end of the day.
I suck.
I apologize.

And, for the 3 of you who come by every day, thank you for your endless devotion, however misplaced it might be.

Poor Pup!

2007-08-18T19:32:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when I decide that everyone needs fresh air:

We pack up the car, grab the kids, shove them into their car seats and head out. Today, I decided that along with freeing my husband to work on the master bathroom, we would also get the dog some good exercise.

THE POOR LITTLE THING! This is what Lexi deemed fun for the two of them....

They Ran back and forth across the Avila Barn lawn,

over and over and over again...and when the dog laid down exhausted, she would drag him until he started running again....now that is a good damn dog!

They are both in bed for the night and it is only 7:30!

I feel so accomplished!

Lexi's First Celebrity Encounter

2007-08-13T18:17:00.000-07:00

Lexi was so excited about meeting the "teddy bear". Just thought I would share her quick experience with Fire Safty Icon, Smokey the Bear.

Doesn't she look terrified?

Ruben just may be one of the best dads ever...Sometimes he can just pull it all off.

Happy Birthday Conlan!

2007-08-08T14:35:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Family Conlan James! As I mentioned in a post a bit ago, my sister gave birth last Monday and we all waited on pins and needles to find out what she was going to have. Baby Boy Conlan James came into the world weighing 6lbs, 7oz. He was 18 ½ inches long and ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! My sister had been very set on having a girl so, I have visions of lots of dresses and hair clips in this poor boy’s future. I have even been told that as his gender was announced, my mother caught on camera a sheer look of disappointment on Jesseca’s face. I’d love to see that one.

To be honest, I think now that she has him home and named and set up in his handsome little bassinet, she couldn’t be happier that he is a he. Because, when you are working on 3 hours of sleep a night, two children under two during the day, and all the fun that comes with nursing, well, learning the tricks of the trade with a new gender is just one more thing that does not need to go into the works.

I remember flipping out about having a boy after having a girl! That was not a cool game to play. Its no big deal now but when you throw hormones out of whack, put your body through the most excruciating workout its ever experienced and then take away all sleep there after, its not nice to throw new plumbing into the game. It was a miracle I never got peed on. I am still not sure how that happened.

An even bigger miracle is that Lexi did not KILL Mateo in his first week of life. She really wanted to, I know. She would slip back and forth between cuddling him and trying to smash his skull in with her sippy cup. It’s an amazing thing, that soft head that babies are born with. Its like nature knew that older siblings would not be receptive to this new adventure called baby brother.

I hope that Jess and Denver experience better luck with Haiden and Conlan than I did with my two little ragamuffins. Congrats, you guys!

Little Miss Owies!

2007-08-07T12:30:00.001-07:00

My daughter is the ultimate optimist. Almost so much so that she gets angry about it. Every morning I ask her how her head is (see previous post for more explanation) and she tells me, No owie! All better!”

She says this almost angry, like I should know this by now, but every time some one so much as touches her head, she starts crying like they just seriously accosted her. I think at this point she just knows she can milk it for all its worth because she keeps reminding me that daddy hit her on the head with his elbow, “like this,” and then demonstrates an almost wrestler like move when in reality, her father was working on our bathroom and she was right next to him and when he put his arm down, it lightly tapped her head. But the owie she got on the driveway? “All better!”

She is also now completely terrified of the driveway and I can’t say I blame her. I’m a little scared of that thing, too! Every morning, she recaps the events of falling, hitting her head and dropping her “logurt” (yogurt) on the grass. It was quite traumatic and she is grieving the loss of that cotton candy flavored shrek gogurt that laid in the grass for three days. Every time we go up or down the walk, one of us has to carry her or hold her hand and she is always celebratory of the fact that we didn’t fall down and get hurt. I never knew that a toddler’s memory could withstand a week but I guess it can!

Are you kidding me?

2007-08-02T16:29:00.001-07:00

Tuesday was one of those stupid days that left me believing that the Universe has a sense of humor and its laughing is directed at me.

My sister had a baby on Monday, Yea! I’ll talk about that later because its special and great in its own way but doesn’t belong here. After the baby was born, she started having seizures and was admitted to the ICU. I had been told that they needed help at the hospital since her husband couldn’t be at the ICU with her and in mother-baby with the baby so, I was in a hurry to get to work, get done what I needed and get over to the hospital to help out. So I was very clear. I need to get to the hospital today. The Universe listened.

On the way rushing out of the house, I was walking with Lexi down the walk to the driveway and the sprinklers were going and the A$$ that used to have our house waxed part of the driveway so its especially dangerous (thank you, jerk!). Well, I slipped and my right knee bent in a way that it has never bent before and Lexi fell, face first into the side of the garage. Ten minutes later, soaking wet from the sprinklers, and we were headed to the Emergency room. I am quite clear that it looked like my husband beat the crap out of us but in all reality it was my own battle with balance that landed us there and I got to tell nurse after nurse and doctor after doctor what a klutz I am.

After x rays and CT scans, here’s what we found out. I had torn my LCL in my right knee, damaged my cartilage and had overall sprainage. I’ll be on crutches (and boy do they suck hard) for a long time. Poor little Lexi has a concussion and we got to be admitted to the hospital for observation.

Ta Da! Did you miss it? This was the Universe giving me the time at the hospital that I had asked for. Wasn’t that nice?!?

And the best part? We were in room 210, the baby was in room 203. We were THAT close! My parents had a one stop shop to visit us all. Thank you very much Universe for your divine greatness in giving what a person really needs.

Just as a recap for you all, I wanted my house remodeled, I got a flood so my house had to be rebuilt entirely on the inside. I wanted to get to the hospital, so I get my butt whooped by the pavement. Let’s see what we’re given next, shall we?

Ouch!

2007-07-30T10:52:00.000-07:00

I know I haven’t provided much in the last week or so that was worth reading; I am terribly sorry that I am so boring. Last night was a dozy, though so here you go!
__________________________________

Yesterday Lexi and I decided we would do make-overs and to do them, we needed to go to the store and get nail polish and bobby pins and the like. I’m telling you, she is as girly as a two year old can get! While at the store, we go through the shaving and wax aisle and I see the red container that will haunt my vagina for eternity. Looking at it, I think, “I should do this! I should try it and ooh! Look! It even has shapes you can do! That would be neat!”

I have always believed that every woman should experience her own bikini waxing at least once in her life to truly know how it feels. Let me tell you in advance, if you feel the same way, I recommend going to a professional for that experience. It would have to be better than my own encounter!

So, with everything for make-overs and this red container in the cart, we bee line over to the next open cashier and pray she doesn’t judge me. She goes through each item and then stops at the wax. Looks it over and says, “I’ve always wondered about these things – let me know how it goes, k?” <-- That, right there is how you know I live in California. Only a place this liberal would have people who say things like that OUT LOUD.

Lexi and I go home and we do our hair 30 different ways and wash or faces and soak our hands and feet and paint our nails and then, when my husband gets home, I enlist his help with the little red jar. Seeing as I know me and am clear that I will not be able to do this to myself, I plan on having him slather the stuff on and rip it off. This could be just what we need to spice things up a bit. You never know. (<-- Don’t judge me! I know you all have thought of doing similar things!)

So we read the instructions, pick a shape and hit the bedroom to set this whole endeavor in motion. Somewhere in the instructions it reads that you are supposed to do small patches at a time. We both missed that one. Before I know it, my vagina, butt cheeks, even my legs are glued together with a sticky wax. We wait for it to get to be the right texture and then he pulls a tiny bit! Ouch! Ok! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! I decide this is a bad, bad idea! I hit the shower, NOT COMING OFF! I get vegetable oil from the kitchen, NOT COMING OFF! We try lotion, razors, scissors, house hold cleaning products, NOT COMING OFF!

I am so close to tears now! Each little patch hurts like no tomorrow and I have officially embarrassed myself in front of my husband like NEVER before. We go back to the bedroom and decide we need a plan of action. He thinks we should leave it on and let it fall off naturally as it will but we at least need to create holes where there should be holes. Two hours of ripping chunk after chunk of hair off and we are barely making a dent. I am pretty sure my vagina has never been so mad at me. I go back to the shower, thinking if I can get a bit off, maybe it will be a bit easier. No luck, the hot water melts the wax again and seals my EVERYTHING closed. This is going to be a LONG night. Finally, my husband suggests taking a towel and my hair dryer and putting them to action.

I grab a Dora the Explorer beach towel, apply it to my nether regions and turn the blow dryer up to full heat. I feel the wax melting onto my skin again and my blow dryer over heats. I sit there, picking all this yucky red stuff out of my nails until the wax cools and then I pull. OUCH! Ok. Maybe, I can do this. My dryer clicks back on and after a series of 8 heatings and towel pullings, I officially broke my hair dryer and still have large clumps of wax left in the most sensitive areas EVER. I am fairly cetain now that all that hair is wired into the bone down there. I spent the next hour and a half ripping little remaining chunks out and begging for mercy.

I successfully got out most of the wax, enough to go to the bathroom successfully. My entire vagina and surrounding area is more raw than the worst case of diaper rash you have ever seen.

I am quite sure that my vagina will never forgive me for this!

A new one to remember

2007-07-26T16:29:00.001-07:00

“To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot and love him a little. To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot and not try to understand her at all.” - Helen Rowland

My fingers are about to FALL OFF!

2007-07-25T12:02:00.001-07:00

It is freezing in my office today. I do not know if the chief engineer believes that because it is sunny and warm outside it must be insanely cold inside or what. The only thing I can tell you is that my entire body is covered in goose bumps and it sucks! The only thing more miserable than being this cold is being this cold and going into the restroom where I expose my naked rear end to the frigid air and then to the toilet seat that is colder than the inside of my freezer! It is COLD!

I think I may have to flick snow flakes off of my eyelashes and it is the middle of JULY!

My Heart Hurts

2007-07-23T11:37:00.000-07:00

My children are away. They are staying with Grandparents until the Aerosmith concert has passed and all is safe and right with this world again. But, in the mean time, I am missing them like a bag lady misses her cart! The world is not right and I should shout it from the roof tops until SOMEONE RETURNS MY CART, I mean children!

It is absolutely amazing how the two creatures on this earth who could make me writhe in misery the most are the two that I find heaven in watching sleep. How can they huddle with their butts up in the air and their arms and legs tucked underneath? How is it that they manage to tweak their necks that far over and still sleep like all is perfect and peaceful? I pull their covers over their goose-bumped bodies and watch them with their simple dreamy smiles and I KNOW this heaven.

Of course, its then that they wake up and start screaming. Lexi does more of whiney nasally thing and Mateo screams like someone just chopped off a very useful body part, but its screaming all the same. That is when I hug them both close, as though they need soothing and silly me! Who was I kidding? These children want nothing of the sort! All they want is to kick and arch their backs and SCREAM as though I am some sort of criminal coming to get them. If you ever want to know what this really feels like, go to the nearest sorority house wearing a black mask and threaten to steal underwear from the drawers. Its kind of like that! A lot of screaming and squirming and kicking!

Still, these two that have me apologizing for every meal I make that is not EXACTLY cheddar cheese or cookies, are the people in life I love the very most and when they return, while “Walk This Way” is still ringing in my ears, I will give them each a gigantic sniff, a quick kiss and release them before all hell breaks loose!

July 20th, 2007

2007-07-20T10:44:00.000-07:00

So, today is my 6th wedding anniversary.

For six years now my husband has put up with the good, the bad, the pretty, the pretty ugly, the crazy and the even crazier!

He has dealt with the melt downs and the excitements, the weight loss, weight gain, diets and gorging.

We have butted heads over having children and then how to raise them, what house to buy, what remodeling to do, where to work, and everything else.

He has suffered through all this and still wants to share a bed with me and for that, I say THANKS HONEY!

Now on to the seven year itch…wish us luck!

The Best Invention Ever!

2007-07-18T16:33:00.001-07:00

I have got to get me one of these!!!!

Click on the Image for better view

My Best Friend's Wedding

2007-07-17T14:27:00.001-07:00

Since the sixth grade, I have called one girl my best friend. She has stuck by me through the good, the bad, and the annoying. Even when we both moved far, far away, she was still just a call away and we always pick up like no time is lost. We have been through it all!

She is finally getting married. We have dreamed of her wedding for a long, long time. The grooms may trade out but the rest pretty much stays the same. I have been looking forward to the day when she gets married since I got married and now that she is, it just so happens that she picked the same day as my brother in law to get married. Could I be any more annoyed?

I don’t even LIKE my brother in law! We get along about 5 days of the year and the rest is just a nuisance. Like the scratching feeling of getting tattooed across your forehead.

He has been engaged for what feels like forever and he is a total Groomzilla.

I didn’t even know they existed but they must because he is one!

I am not even part of the freaking wedding party and I have to wear a certain dress to attend the gosh darn event! I threatened to not wear the dress and he threatened for me not to go to the wedding and my darling husband could take a different date. One that would wear the dress. And my husband stood by that decision. Trying to be the bigger person, I bought the dress. PS, its hideous on real people! Everyone who has to wear it hates it! I say we stage a revolt.

Anyway, so, I get the invitation to my best friend’s wedding and its on the same day! At the same time! And that means I get to be completely miserable in a dress that I hate while I miss a moment that I have been looking forward to for almost FOREVER because if I even sneak out for a minute to say hi, my in laws will never forgive me. Never!

He did this on purpose, I know he did. Just to make my life more miserable.

Link to the dress: http://www.davidsbridal.com/bridesmaids_detail.jsp?stid=2813&prodgroup=110

Sniffle, sniffle

2007-07-16T14:08:00.001-07:00

I’ve got this minor little cold. Its sucking the life out of me but I’m going to call it minor anyway.

Its one of those where you feel like all the junk inside your face is trying to push one of your eyeballs out.

You know, that kind.

So, I’m sitting at my desk sniffling and trying to pay attention to work but, let’s face it. I DO NOT WANT TO! I want to curl up in my bed and sip tea, eat spicy food and watch smut. Or better yet, sleep! But no, I am at work for at least the next three hours so, I get to actually DO stuff, all the while sniffling and sneezing and trying to hold my left eyeball in place.

Grrr…when I get home, there better be a cozy spot on the couch with my name on it.

A Crown to Wear in Shame

2007-07-15T20:10:00.000-07:00

So, I am fairly certain that I will never be able to look my next door neighbors in the eye again. There is a kind of humility that can only come of people seeing you in a way that requires an amazing intamacy being forced on a person. This kind of humility occured for me last night.

It is hotter than the hinges of Hell where I live. Honestly, at 11:00 at night, it must've still been in the high 90's. I was laying in bed with my husband when he rolled over and asked, "Did you lock your car?"

Having the recent string of break-in's in the neighborhood, I tried to remember...shit, I don't think I even rolled up the windows from this afternoon. I would need to do that if I planned on seeing my car ever again.

I slipped out of bed in my t-shirt and underwear and walked boldly out my front door, assured that no one in my neighborhood would awake at this time of night.

I was wrong.

There, staring at me like I was a rare, thought to be extinct creature, were my neighbors.

Shit!

Here I am half naked, having gotten all the way out to the car before they made a noise, I still had to get back into the house and I had already been spotted. Now, I got to rush my white rear end across the lawn and back to the safety of my house, knowing full well that they could just sit there and stare at my glow-in-the-dark whiteness ripple and as ran.

I am pretty sure this qualifies me as the queen of white trash for the neighborhood, as if I hadn't already won that award.

Thank you very much; my acceptance speech is still in the works.

Out of the Mouth of Babes

2007-07-13T20:59:00.000-07:00

You never know quite what to expect with my father. I swear, you would think I would know him well enough by now but, no...he comes out of no where with a one of these...

The other night, I was at a meeting and Ruben was at a meeting and my parents were watching the kids. Now, I expect for them to wrestle and eat ice cream but I would have never guessed what was I would walk into when I went to pick the kids up. Let me paint you a picture. I open the door to see Lexi sitting in front of the TV with "Pa-pa" watching commercials eating raisins, no big deal until she opens her mouth and then...

Out of the mouth of my 2 1/2 year old comes, "Ooohhh! Nice Rack! Pa-pa, you see the nice rack?" My daughter might be the world's first ever toddler sexist pig. Thank you very much! That's about as acceptable as it was when she started telling everyone, "kiss my ass" about six months ago.

Can you believe these things come out of such a sweet looking little girl?

Nope, me either...

It was great while it lasted

2007-07-13T20:42:00.000-07:00

OH MY GOD! Wait for it, wait for it...I cannot believe it, could it be true? Yep, I think so - I am completely content with my home life! I believe this may be the first time EVER that I can't say I want anything! Let me go through my check list:

Marriage - Check
House - Check
Daughter - Check
Son - Check
Dog - Check

I think I'm good...wow! Kinda cool!

I want some ice cream, damn! That was short lived...

The Little Guy

2007-07-13T20:21:00.000-07:00

Well, he has officially been here a week and he is still alive so, that being a miracle in itsself, I think it is time to introduce the newest addition to our family, TOBIN JAMES, aslo known as Toby. Toby is our adorable toy poodle puppy who is 2 1/2 months old and is just about the best dog I have ever had! He is already learing to sit and fetch and a whole week of him being home alone during the day and he has not destroyed anything! This is fantastic! I think this puppy may even rub off on the spousal unit...I better not hold my breath of that one. But anyway, here he is!

The Beginning of DIY

2007-07-13T14:20:00.000-07:00

Ok, so now that we have moved back home there is much work left to do that, quite frankly, I have no interest in doing but, alas, it needs to be done so we don’t permanently live with concrete floors in the bathrooms and laundry rooms and well, so it doesn’t feel quite so much like camping!

My husband seems almost excited about these projects. You should see him! He is a superhero with a wrench, or whatever you call those things! We (I use the term “we” very loosely – you are better off reading “he”) started demolishing the master bathroom so that we could put in all the new pretty stuff that is patiently waiting in the garage and he was tearing out the cabinets bare handed!! Without one sign of butt crack!!! If that isn’t amazing I don’t know what is. So, this weekend, I think we can start painting and there is rumor of the new cabinets going in…I ‘m sure that, if given enough time without the kids this weekend, my husband could maybe even start thinking about the shower stall that has me completely stumped.

Man on a mission

Blood, Sweat, and Tears, People!!!

2007-07-13T13:07:00.000-07:00

So, my dear husband seems to think that in order to write about something as monumental as our house and the fiasco we have been living that I must first, inform you, the readers of the disaster of January 14th, 2007.

Every once in a while, as though I enjoy things like being pinched or tortured in some small way, my husband will convince me that we should go up to visit his parents. I am not too particularly fond of these visits as you can almost read across my in laws’ foreheads, “We despise her!” when I walk into that home but, as a good wife, we go, anyway. Well, one of the first weekends in January, we went up to do just that. We spent a lovely time there eating three day old food that sat out uncovered on the stove that, even when fresh, I am fairly certain that I could not distinguish exactly what it was. I have my in laws to thank for my children’s complete immunity to food poison.

Any way, shortly into our drive home, we get a call from our neighbor to expect a disaster when we returned. Apparently, while we were away, the temperature dropped down to 12 degrees! In California!! And when our zillion year old copper pipes burst in the ceiling and thawed, they poured water all through the blown in insulation, brought the ceiling down and ruined everything from ceiling to wood floors along with all the belongings in between! Our neighbor (who should apply for sainthood, as far as I’m concerned) saw water pouring down our driveway from our garage door and decided it was a good idea to check in on us. It was then that he saw what was happening and turned our water off at the valve.

We made a u-turn, left the kids with the in laws, and headed home to discover the house was torn apart. Immediately, we tried to call the “24 hour Emergency Hotline” for our insurance, but wouldn’t you know, they were closed for the weekend and then the holiday. After 40 messages, we heard back from the insurance agent from hell that it could be about 2 weeks before they got an adjuster out there. Fabulous! The adjuster was rude, to put it nicely – really, I wanted to stick a boot up his rear end and see if maybe that would change his disposition for the better but thought best to do otherwise.

Weeks after going through every piece of everything we had and documenting it with description, price, photo and online price, we found out that our adjuster would no longer be working with us and had not submitted anything…Thanks so much, jerk! Now I really wish I had stuck that boot where it didn’t belong!

Though we had contractors to do most of the work, it really felt like we did everything ourselves, from clearing the place out to taking down the old fireplace and door jams to putting new light fixtures and switch plates in. I’m pretty sure my dear husband and I almost got divorced during the process of picking out new flooring and paint colors but, no, we’re still married. The total clean up must’ve been about 5 ½ months because we are just starting to move back in. I’ll throw in some pictures to horrify you all later. And the house we stayed while this all happened? Well, that’s a whole other story!

Best Quote EVER!!!

2007-07-13T08:25:00.001-07:00

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have." - From the newest Harry Potter Movie.

As always, its a must go see!

She will win Wolfgang Puck's Heart

2007-07-12T16:48:00.000-07:00

My daughter is a complete nutcase!

I guess all two and a half year olds are but I just can do nothing but sit back and laugh at this girl some nights.

She has developed a taste for unique foods like feta cheese and spinach; she prefers these things to ice cream. What the heck is wrong with this girl?

The night before last, I heard her walking through the house and then some whining in her room but ignored her because, quite frankly, I was tired and she didn’t have her face thisclose to my face so, I didn’t think she needed me but, when I got up, I discovered that this little goober had gone to the kitchen opened the fridge that she swears she cannot open and gotten Mediterranean olives, taken them back to her room and had been sitting there in the dark eating them like a closet foodie! She must’ve whined when she knocked them over because when I walked into her room that morning I just saw olives and pits splattered all across the floor and the happy (stinky-breathed) little girl was sound asleep in her bed with olive skin on her right cheek.

Tell me we are not beginning all sorts of complexes here!

Funniest Thing Ever!!!

2007-07-12T15:31:00.000-07:00

I had to bring this in because it is just that funny...

A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:

------
Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Toni. What I came across was a 100,000-volt pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on an assailant. The idea is to allow my wife -- who would never consider a gun --adequate time to retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs and I'd know it was working. Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave).

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat.

But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!@*!!! I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again.

I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, that there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. SON-OF-A-... that hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected what little wits I had left, sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.

I'm still looking for my testicles!!
I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.

Still in shock,

Earl

This is Old but, I brought it over anyway...

2007-07-12T14:54:00.000-07:00

Its sunny, Friday, and I've finished doing everything I needed to do for the day…I want to go home! Waahhaa!!! Ok, now that I'm done bitching about that…Here's whats going on with me lately, in case you all cared...
I am getting ready to celebrate Mateo's first birthday, it feels like he was just born but, the kid is HUGE so I know that can't be true. Bummer. Someone should tell him he's not allowed to grow up because he doesn't listen to me, I'm just his mom.

All my friends seem to be moving away. It took a lot of time to let new ones in and now that I did, they are moving on to bigger and better things. Joey and Kate moved to the Bay – I'm happy that they get to be somewhere better and can move up in their lives but it sucks because they were supposed to stay until we moved back up there…whenever that happens. See how self centered I am!?! And pretty shortly, Kendra and Cole will be moving to North Carolina for Cole to get his Masters at Duke which rocks because its an amazing opportunity but I'm already trying to figure out the easiest way to get there (hwy 46 to 99 to 58 to 15 to 40 and its an even 2447 miles on the 40)

And then there is the house… Forgive me but I wish that house would have burned down instead of flooded. At least then they couldn't look at our damaged stuff and say it should be dusted off and reused. Now, we get to look over the torn apart place over and over again and look at it piece by piece as they tell us they will give us a fraction of what each thing is worth. I hate them. I hate that this happened and I'm having a hard time over looking it all to see the bright side! Grrr… that's it for now.

Like Anyone Cares

2007-07-12T14:52:00.000-07:00

Was I dork all along? No seriously! I always felt out of place in school and then in college, and now in the real world, I am finally finding my place with amazing friends and great coworkers and I'm left wondering about those awkward times. Was a I dork and I didn't get it? There are so many people out there that were geeks and just owned it but I never did. I was friends with everyone…I think! Stacy Wilson, you tell me! You were queen of the popular and I always thought of you as a good friend. Was that in my head? Did I bounce between cliques because I was denying the inner geek or did I bounce because I honestly could have gone anywhere.

And in college, as a Sigma Kappa, Alissa, you tell me. Did I EVER fit in there? Gosh! As much as I loved my times there with everyone, and I felt I fit in better there than any where else I always felt out of place.
So, write to me on this one. Its ok what ever you say. Whether you burn me or not. Was I a dork? What the hell group did I/ do I belong in?!?

Drum Roll Please...

2007-05-02T14:55:00.000-07:00

The word is out! Mateo's God parents will be Elena and Omar Martinez. Ruben has yet to pick the date of the baptism but it will be somewhere near Mateo's first birthday. Let me tell you, picking was not easy. There were many great people to look at but we knew we made the right decision the moment we asked Nena and were met with a response loud and clear, "oh my God! Yes! OHHHHH!!!!!!" I have a ton of confidence in these two and I know they can care for our little guy so well! I know that if anything were to happen to Ruben and I that Omar would teach Mateo everything he needs to know about soccer and all things boy and Elena would teach him everything he needs to know about forming his own opinions, treating girls the way they should and dressing to kill! I have the greatest confidence that these two will give this little guy room to grow but not too much to wander.