Full House

It took precisely 3.7 minutes for my house to go from perfectly perfect
to
the boys are home again.

Conversation

Labor Day

Four years ago today I was going to have a baby. I mean, I was going to have him. There was no way that I was going to go one more day. It wasn't possible. There were not enough words to describe how ready I was to have him; and just as few words to describe how ready I was to not be pregnant anymore. Don't get me wrong, I loved my pregnancy. I had one of the best and drama-less pregnancies a girl could ask for. Well except for the whole SVT at 32 weeks and having to have my heart restarted thing, but that was no biggie. Ha!

So, there I was, September 7, 2005-my due date-and I was going to have him.

And then I woke up and it was the next day. And there was still this giant mass attached to me known as my stomach. And I was 40 weeks and 1 day.

Now I have a little bone to pick about that. Why are we always told that the length of gestation is 9 months? 9 months is only 36 weeks. That's a whole 4 weeks less than 40 weeks. (Here is where Stuart would tell me that technically a month has 4.2 or 4.3 weeks in it not just 4; so technically women are only pregnant for 9 months. And then I would lovingly give him a look and maybe hit his arm and tell him he just doesn't understand what it's like to be with child for almost a year AND that beauty happened to be HIS son. Ahem.) So this whole 40 weeks/9 months thing is bogus NOT TO MENTION that you actually go PAST your due date and so you can be pregnant for MORE THAN 40 WEEKS (aka 10 months).

I wake up on September 8, 2005 and come to realize that the world is just not fair. And my doctor is not fair for not inducing me so that I could have that child that I had been carrying around for 10 months. And that child was not fair for not making more of a ruckus to get out. And my goodness if I got the wrong drink at Starbucks that day and it took all my energy not to unload on the barista.

Back to labor day though-mine didn't actually come for 10 more days. That's right. My darling (almost 4 year old) was 10 whole days late.

So here's to you and yours on this Labor Day...don't do anything that will require a trip to the ER!

Dust balls

Do you know what it's like to be in a house all by yourself??
It's quiet.
And clean.
And empty.
And you can run around in your underwear and only worry about someone knocking on the door to see you.
And you can eat on the couch and not feel bad because you told your kids they couldn't.
And you can go to the bathroom by yourself.
And you can watch non-cartoon television.
And you can watch the new dust balls form and know that they aren't going to get thrown around by cars.
And you can...be by yourself.

But I do miss them, just a little bit.

Just Me

This weekend, well this afternoon actually, Stuart and the boys are going to SA for Labor Day weekend. I have to work. So I am going to be here all weekend BY MYSELF. What's a girl to do?? (Besides sleep all day and work all night)And this little guy? This little guy is going to be FOUR in 14 days!!

Butter

Tyson: Mommy, can I have more butter?
Me: No, your raisin bread already has butter on it.
Tyson: But it all melted.
Me: That doesn't mean that there isn't any butter on it.
Tyson: But it's all melted!
Me: I know. Maybe you should have eaten your bread before all the butter melted.
Tyson: But mommy! I really need more butter.
Me: Booger, I promise you that you are going to be just fine with the amount of butter that you have.
Tyson: But there's no-more-butter.
Tucker:Here go Tucker. hands Tyson the butter (Tucker calls Tyson Tucker)
Me: Tucker, you can't get the butter out of the fridge. But thank you for thinking of your brother.
Tucker: Tucker (meaning Tyson) more butter now.
Me: Oh forget it.

And in precisely 10 minutes they will be trying to pull each other off the couch.

Stuart

Last night my co-workers and I were talking about another one of our co-workers whom just had a baby. It started off with babies, then led to pregnancy, followed by birth stories, which was preceded by husbands and ended with proposals (one of my co-workers claims that she WILL be proposed to at a baseball game but she first has to find a boyfriend and then he has to KNOW that that's the correct way in which to promise his life to her...if she only knew!). Anywho, all this chatter made me start thinking about Stuart and all his little nuances. Funny man I married.

• Stuart does not watch sports. Not a lick of 'em. We don't even have ESPN programmed on our guide because we seriously DO NOT WATCH SPORTS. Unless the Spurs are in the playoffs and then he might glance up while I am shouting at the tv.
• Stuart is actually pretty shy. The man can fit in pretty well anywhere we go but if left to his own devices he would rather be a wall flower.
• Stuart used to be bleach blonde. So.stinkin.cute.
• Stuart can take apart and put back together anything. I am so not kidding.
• Stuart has this amazing way of diffusing situations. Particularly situations regarding my hot temper. And those that involve Tucker putting Tyson in a choke hold.
• Stuart really enjoys beer. His favorites are Boddingtons, Guinness, Young's Double Chocolate Stout, Bass, and those that are handed to him directly from a brewery.
  
• Stuart's one weakness include but are not limited to: ice cream, Oreos, chips, cookies, french fries, onion rings, fried cheese and cheeseburgers.
• Stuart has this desire to fix everybody's anything, whether you ask him to or not.
• Stuart can find anything on the Internet.
  
• Stuart ALWAYS looks for a better deal.
  
• For our 10 year anniversary (12/28/2012), Stuart wants a full set of tools with his initials engraved in them.

Shout Outs:
63 degrees!!!

I went to Wal Mart

My list included:

trash bags
cereal
bread
corn
green beans
dog food
hairbrush
milk
eggs
corn dogs
tortillas
shredded cheese
guacamole
apples

What I can home with:

Bag of polyfil
queen size foam pad
dog food (check)
green beans x4 (check)
corn x4 (check)
shredded cheese (check)
strawberries
trash bags (check)
tortillas x2 (check)
hairbrush (check)
remnant fleece
stitch witch x2
cereal x2 (check)
milk x2 (check)
mixed fruit cup
twin sheets x2

And what have I learned?
Nothing.

He hasn't changed that much

I just love 'em

Happy Birthday Jordana!

My littlest sister turns 20 today!
Happy birthday Aunt George!
We love you soooo much!

Soapbox

Alright, I openly admit that what I'm about to say is neither politically correct or rational and it might not even be nice but it's how I feel and after last night I could not say it more...

IF YOU ARE GOING TO LIVE IN A COUNTRY OTHER THAN THE ONE IN WHICH YOU WERE BORN (or maybe you were born in the opposite country) TAKE THE TIME TO LEARN THE LANGUAGE OF SAID COUNTRY.

There. I said it. I know, it's horrible. It's awful. But come on people. If you chose to live in the US, whether legally or illegally, learn how to speak English. And I am so not trying to segregate those of Spanish decent. It just so happens that in TX, the ratio of Hispanics to Caucasians is 5:1. Or something like that.

Here's the deal: since I work in the ER, there are a plethora of individuals that come in whom do not speak English. Not a lick of it actually. They even fill out their slips in Spanish. And when there are no people around whom also speak Spanish, I have to go and find someone to translate. This may take awhile. This is not my fault. It's also quite embarrassing when the doctor, DOCTOR, has to get one of the housekeepers (whom I love dearly-really) to come and translate for him. Yeah.

Also note that I would feel the same way about an American going to live in say, Germany.

But since I know that this is a null point, I'll just stew about it. And of course write about it.

Shout Outs:
Moist Facial Towelettes-make-up removal made easy.
Gel pens-I really love writing with you.
Key hooks-if Stuart actually used you, I would never have to search for the keys.

Proof: The truck in the livingroom

A Letter

Dear backyard(ish) neighbor,

I am a dog lover. My husband and I have two gigantic beasts with which to prove this point. Their names are Turbo and Scout and we lovingly refer to them as our children (though not to be confused with our human children, at times which act worse than our non-human ones but we'll leave that for another letter). I completely get why people want and buy dogs. I also completely understand why some people buy dogs for other purposes than to keep around the house, give treats to and laugh at when they take up more space on the couch than their son and they do nothing about it because it's just so cute. Some of these reasons might be for farming and guarding. I'm going to assume that your reason for purchasing and owning this breed is for the latter. I'm not going to lie, I think it's a bit cruel to leave your animal outside all day without ever bringing them inside (I mean we do live in Hotter-than-Hell Hundred boasting WF {which is next weekend and I *think* President George W might be riding in it}), but you are the master of your domain and I'm not going to tell you what to do-to an extent.

You see dear backyard(ish) neighbor, I love my sleep. More importantly I love my children's sleep. And when I am actually home, at night, and get to sleep in the same bed, at the same time that my husband is sleeping, I really would like to stay asleep. Unfortunately this monumental feat can not occur when your* non-human offspring are left out all night and thus bark and howl at the flutter of a leaf.

*these could possibly be another backyard(ish) neighbor's clansdogs, but for the sake of this letter we'll just say that they are, in fact, yours.

The dominoe effect of your brood barking and whining comes thru my doors and windows, which then causes my two, precious non-human children to whine. And if that whining and scurrying about gets loud enough, my two human children wake up.

I'm not sure if you have human children or not (I'm gonna go with not since there is no way that children sleeping mere feet from the ruckus that is enclosed in your backyard every night could in fact, sleep) but when these angels wake from slumber in the middle of the night it is neither fun nor easy to put their cherub cheeks back on the pillow and pass a spell to make their eyes close again. This recipe also leaves a mother tending to her sheep while her dear husband snores and hogs more of the now available sheets.

So you see, you, by way of your actions in letting your {sigh} dogs stay outside all night long are in effect ruining the peace and order of my nighttime house. I would appreciate and swift and immediate fix of this problem or else I might be forced to stick my head out the back door and yell like your other backyard(ish) neighbors have done for the past few nights.

Thank you for your time.

Respectfully,
Your other backyard(ish) neighbor who hasn't been screaming at you

Cleaning and Crying

So I've been trying to catch up on my cleaning and laundry since my work load this week has been a hair lighter than last week. Add to that the fact that I got sick this weekend and my cleaning "mojo" has been about zero. But since laundry doesn't stop (and is it just me or does the laundry double when mom isn't home to take care of it everyday?) and dishes must be washed or else the milk curdles and then I have the stinkiest nast-i-ous-ness (that is so a real word) on my hands, cleaning I must do.

So that is what I have done in between sleeping, eating, spending few precious minutes with my boys and of course buying new pots and pans. Oh the joys!

With that I have also been catching up on my blog friends and blogs that I stalk. Yesterday I watched this and just about ran out of tears.



Oh, and have I mentioned to go over here and check out the new update on Luke??

One last thing, my baby boy is going to be 4 (as in one, two, three, FOUR) in less than a month!