It'll be like we're married or something

The Roommate is going to the beach.

He's leaving either tonight or early tomorrow morning and he isn't coming back until sometime Saturday.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy about it.

I'm freakin' ecstatic.

Nearly three whole days. My apartment and my husband all to myself.

Like the good ole days.

Project 365, week 23

Week in pictures June 5-11

Suffering. Almost at the top

Five months ago this was covered in snow. And I hiked up it.

Double fisting

Charge

From a friend's garden

Kabobs!

Sweet little cuddlers

Cake, cake, and more cake

I did it!

Last month I wrote an update on my fitness and weigh loss. I set a goal at the end of that post to fit into a specific pair of pants for an upcoming family function. Lo, the party is upon us (Saturday) and I had to face the mirror, pants on.

The good news? I can wear them! Horrah! They are a touch snug, but not uncomfortable and I'm super proud of myself.

The bad news? I forgot that they are heavy and lined and HOT. When I tried them on today as soon as they were snapped I started sweating and the party isn't in the mountains. It's in the foothills. Read: A lot hotter than I'm used to.

Andy and I are both spoiled by the mild climate we live in. We openly and freely admit that we are complete wimps when it comes to hot weather. It's June 9th and we've only had a handful of 80 degree days so far this year. So, I'm not wearing the pants. I choose comfort over style. I'll have to celebrate my little weight loss victory another day. Oh well.

So what am I going to wear? Funny you should ask.

After I tried on my pants and decided not to wear them I looked into my closet and decided there wasn't anything else I wanted to wear except that one outfit. My heart was set on it. (I've been dying to wear the shoes for several months now.) So I high tailed it to the local outlet mall with a budget and a specific item in mind: a lighter weight pair of pants, in white.

You know how when you need something specific & you can never find it, no matter how many places you look? Like it doesn't seem to exist except in your head, or they don't have your size or it costs as much as your monthly grocery budget.

Somehow, the skies opened and the heavens smiled on me today. I found exactly what I wanted in the first store I looked, within thirty seconds of walking through the door. And! They were 60!!! percent off. I came in $3 under my budget!

I'd consider that two victories in one post, wouldn't you?

Dear God, I get the point

Ever since I was little I have been good with kids and spent a lot of time babysitting. Most of my younger cousins didn't come along until I was six and for many years I was the designated baby wrangler in the family. Then in eight grade I graduated to watching children that weren't related to me and kept on doing that as a source of income all the way through college and a little bit afterward.

Along the way there were some really great kids, and also some real tyrants of both genders. But I developed a soft spot for boys. Have you ever spent a lot of time around little boys? They are so stinkin' sweet. Girls are cute and all with their frilly bows and twirly dresses, but they start to exert their sassy independence as soon as they can talk. Boys, while rambunctious, can steal your heart in five seconds flat.

Also, girls kind of terrify me. Not little girls. They are fun when they're little, but then they turn twelve and all hell breaks lose.

My own mother will tell you that I was relatively easy as a teen. I've wracked my brain to figure out what my parents did to make me that way so that in the event I have a girl someday I can repeat the process. I asked my mom recently and she said that I just came out that way.

Crap. What if I have a girl and she doesn't come out that way? What if she is a holy hellian? Not to mention that adolescence is hell on girls. I have yet to meet a grown woman who says she would relive her teen years. Men? I've met several.

So for many years now I've always said that when I have children, I want boys. I mean, I'll take what I can get, but if God wants to give me a choice, I choose boys.

And then we got a roommate. A single man who has never been married.

It was good for a while. Everyone was super conscious of the other people living here. The apartment was tidy. I did all my regular cleaning, but I didn't feel any extra strain. Then he had been here a while and he and Andy started to get a little more comfortable. Things started to slip. And then one morning I woke up and it appeared I was living in the middle of a bachelor pad.

I reached the limit this weekend when we had another male under our roof. Andy was in a bike race with a friend who lives out of town and he came to stay with us.

After we got home from the race and he left I looked around my home and said, "I changed my mind. I want girls."

Y'all...

The dishes.

The inexplicable piles of dirt. Everywhere.

The wet towel hung on my grandmothers bed every morning. (I asked him to stop and he did. Thankfully)

The random personal items on my table, counter, sofa, LAUNDRY PILE.

The unidentifiable "man dust" all over my lovely, leather sofa. What the heck is it?

And the shoes! Oh my God the shoes! Work boots, sneakers, flip flops. They're everywhere.

Add to that two MALE! bunnies and you have a very desperate housekeeper. (And if you think the bunnies being male doesn't make a difference then you come clean up after them for a week and then we'll talk.)

Now, don't get me wrong. I could have it much worse. I've been living with Andy for almost four years now, so I'm used to all of his stuff lying around. And as far as the roommate is concerned? He tries. He really does. But there are just some things, I've come to learn, that men can't help. It's part of the Y chromosome.

For instance, the toilet seat. He always leaves it up. I know he isn't doing it as a personal slight against me and I haven't fallen in yet, but when it happens and I get toilet water on my bottom, watch out...

I said something to Andy about it. I told him you could tell roommate had never been married because he always leaves up the toilet seat. Then Andy confessed to me that he doesn't leave the toilet seat up because he never actually raises the toilet seat so he won't forget to put it down and I won't bitch at him about it. And if he sprinkles when he tinkles he's always neat and wipes the seat.

And I don't know if that revelation should make me look a little harder at how much I nag him because he actually does that to avoid a fight, but all I can really think about is how grateful I am that he even thought that far ahead. AND he wipes the freakin' seat! Add that to the "list of reasons why I love my husband."

So I've come to the conclusion that God or the universe is trying to teach me a lesson about my disdain for girls and show me that there are merits to having children of each gender. Because while little boys are sweet they grow up and become men and do gross man things. (They also emit an unpleasant odor. I have some special candles and cleaning products for when we get our guest room back.)

I've learned my lesson, and when the time comes for Andy and I to have children I'll be pleased with whatever we get.

I'll be happy to have a boy and I'll do my best to raise him not to be dirty and messy, all the while knowing I'm losing the battle. And on his wedding day I'll look my daughter-in-law in the eye and say, "I'm sorry. I did my best."

A daughter will also be welcome and I'll do what I can to keep her in frilly bows and twirly dresses until she's thirty and when she hits her teens I'll suffer right along with her. And on her wedding day I'll look her in the eye and say, "Don't blame his mother."

At least we know our limitations

Yesterday the National Geographic channel launched a new series called Expedition Great White. I have an unhealthy obsession with shark shows, so I was planning on watching it. Sharks freak Andy out and he spent all day in dread of the 9 o'clock hour.

Despite my shark obsession I don't like the ocean. I love the beach and the sand and even wading in the water, but getting in past my ankles is something I don't do. Andy doesn't either. Because he's afraid of something eating him. He's also afraid of jelly fish.

Pretty much, the ocean creeps us both out.

Last night, while we were cleaning up from dinner and I was counting down the minutes until Expedition Great White, Andy and I had a little conversation about our fear of the ocean and what it meant for our future children. Because for reasons unknown to either of us, children (or the children we know) have no fear of the ocean and just plunge right in.

Andy: When we have kids and take them to the beach we're going to have to hire someone to go into the ocean with them because neither of us like the ocean.


Me: What? No. In my family the dads go into the ocean with the kids while the moms watch from a safe distance on the sand. So you're going to have to suck it up.


Andy: But what if something eats me?


Me: Maybe our fear of the ocean is genetic and we'll pass it on to our kids, otherwise you have to go in with them. But you are NOT allowed to scare them away from the ocean by telling them that something is going to eat them.


Andy: Why not? Then we won't have to worry about it. I'll only go in with them as long as we go somewhere that I can see through the water to the bottom.


Me: ::rolling my eyes:: You don't have to go in very deep. Just wade in up to your knees and you'll be fine.


Andy: Something could still eat me in the shallow water.


Me: Not if you're just in up to your ankles. You can at least do that with our kids.


Andy: Jellyfish could still sting me and our kid. And you know what happens then don't you?


Me: You have to pee on it.


Andy Yes! And you know what I hate more than sharks and jellyfish and the ocean?


Me: Feces? Human waste?


Andy: POOP and PEE!!!!

Now on our list of "must haves" when kids come: Ocean Swimmer and Diaper Changer.

Project 365, week 22

Week in pictures May 29-June 4

Ominous

Burrito

An iris grows in the weeds

This makes me want to go camping. I don't like camping

Gone to the grocery

Crank it

Handy Andy

To be free

Hello Interwebs. I haven't fallen off a cliff. I've just been neglecting you. Because the sun is shining and the temperatures are delightful and I'd rather be outside. The truth hurts.

On Sunday Andy and I went to a picnic with my family. We ate too much and got sunburned and I narrowly escaped being attacked by a tick. Ok, not really. I saw the tick on my blanket long before it was any threat to me. But I'm telling the truth about eating too much and getting sunburned.

It was a beautiful day and though the clouds looked threatening a few times they always blew in another direction so we didn't get rained out, and we all enjoyed our picnic and time spent together.

Of course I subjected everyone to a group photo. They always complain and you'd think they were used to it by now, but apparently not. They do get into formation more quickly these days, so that lets me know they have resigned themselves to the fact that they can't talk me out of it so they might as well get it over with.

So here it is:

Ha! Just kidding. That's the picture we took after I made sure we got this one:

We're missing a few people. One day I'll get one with everyone together. But it turned out well just the same.

See the man in the back? With the white hat that has the flag sticking out of it? That's my uncle Todd. He's married to my mom's sister, Pam. I was in their wedding.

He's a veteran of the first gulf war/conflict. Call it what you like, it was a scary time for my family.

I was thinking about it on Sunday at the picnic. He had on a patriotic t shirt and stuck that little flag in a tree so passersby could see. And I started to reminisce about that time so many years ago when he was gone.

I was just a little girl, but I remember everyone being very tense and worried. Most nights my grandfather slept on the sofa with the tv on, programed to the local news channel. Pam lived out of town with Ashley, my little cousin, but she spent a lot of time with us. Either we were there or she was with us. There were always so many unanswered questions. We spent a lot of time trying to make Ashley feel like everything was normal when it was obviously not. Her daddy, the center of her world, was gone.

I don't remember exactly how long Todd was gone, but I know it was at least a year.

Blessedly, they day finally came for him to return to his family. I remember that we all went down to welcome him. There were a LOT of people too. Our family plus Todd's family makes for a very big group.

It was a very long day of hoping and praying for a safe journey. I was eight or nine and I remember being very impatient. I had expected that we'd get out of the car and there he'd be and we'd all hug and kiss and celebrate. In reality we spent a lot more time waiting for the plane to appear in the sky. If I remember correctly it was delayed a couple of times until finally the announcement came that the soldiers' arrival would be soon.

There was a VIP section for the wives (and I'm sure husbands & parents). Most of our group stayed back in the bleachers that had been set up, but Pam took Ashley and me up to sit and wait with her. As soon as we settled in our seats I could feel the difference in the atmosphere there. I didn't realize what it was at the time, but I was surrounded by people that had spent innumerable days hoping for their loved one to return and now it was so close. The joy and relief in that group was palpable.

We spent some more time waiting. They played "God Bless the USA" over the loud speaker and we all stood up and sang with our hands over our hearts.

And then the plane landed. Pam had Ashely in her arms and me by the hand. She was squeezing so hard.

The soldiers all got off and lined up.

I didn't know what was going to happen next, but I guess someone gave a signal that the soldiers were free to find their families.

Suddenly Pam ran forward and was dragging me toward all the soldiers. I was so confused and she was running so fast I couldn't keep up. I thought she'd lost her mind.

But then she found him and they all hugged so tight. Pam still had my hand and at some point they pulled me into the hug. Everyone was crying and eventually we found the rest of our group. Todd was home!

I'll never forget that day and what it was like to be with my aunt as she welcomed her husband home.

Like I said, I was confused. There was so much that I didn't understand about love and war and families.

But now I have a husband of my own. And while I haven't had to send him away to war I understand better how she felt that day. Andy was gone to California back in October and I ran and jumped into his arms the night he came home. That was just two weeks.

Now I can appreciate why she squeezed my hand and drug me into the crowd to find her husband.

That knowledge allows me to empathize with what so many families are dealing with now. And it makes me appreciate so much more what it means to live in this country. And to be free.