With Love, XOXOXOXO

Love letters. When I was 18, 19, 20...apparently I wrote lots of 'em to hubby. I have no recollection of doing this, but I did. And I have proof-- I just found it the other day in a previously unexplored corner of the house. (A whole stack of proof, in fact.)

That's one of the advantages to living in your husband's former home; finding little pieces of history you didn't even know existed.

You know what another advantage is? Finding all the love letters the others wrote too. And oh, I found some juicy ones! In fact, I discovered many that made me wonder why on earth his mother chose to save them. (I mean, didn't they make her blush tomato red?) All in all, they made for a very interesting afternoon of reading.

But every now and then I couldn't hold it in....

"Hubby! What did Bambi mean when she said---?"

"Hubby! Why did Trixie tell you that---?"

"Hubby! I cannot believe you did/said/thought---!"

"Hubby! Did Candy really---?"

"So, Cherry was pretty hot then, eh?"

Pretty soon hubby came traipsing into the room, curiosity getting the better of him, only to find me surrounded by a pile of letters. Letters written on napkins, letters written on Hallmark cards, letters on paper towels, on notebook paper, letters with pictures, letters containing confetti, lipstick kisses, the remnants of old fragrance.... Letters proclaiming undying devotion, heartsickness over break-ups, letters pieced together from magazine clippings, memories of good times together (sometimes too "good", in all honesty).

"Where did you get those?" he asked, looking a bit sick.

"Your mom saved them. Did she read this one-- hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?" I proffered one of the more interesting notes. He sputtered.

"Ugh! Throw them away!"

"Are you sure? They're your history!"

"They're evil."

"They're a lot like the ones I wrote," I said flatly.

"That's different...."

(You got that right, buster.) But, reluctantly, I did as he asked and threw them away. Sigh.

And the ones I wrote? Well, I kept those, as ridiculous as they were. (Who was that girl, anyway? Was I really that...insipid? Good grief, give me a pen and paper and see what kind of letter I can write now.)

As for hubby's fake I.D. I found...that's another story altogether. (Unfortunately, hubby got his hands on that one and shredded it too.) Oh, I just love treasure hunting in this house!

Science Unfair!

Hubby owes me. Owes me big.

"Hey Nona, how'd you like to be one of the judges for the 6th grade Science Fair? It's easy. I'll give you a rubric and instructions and Starbucks!"

What hubby failed to mention is that it would take me most of the school day to get through only half of what I was supposed to, and that they would be well...rather atrocious, honestly. Perhaps my expectations exceeded that which an average 12-year old can produce, or perhaps projects with names like "Sticky Crystals" really are as bad as they sound.

I did learn a few things, however. Important things I'd like to now share with you. (Knowledge not shared is knowledge wasted, after all.)

1. When bullets are shot into a phone book they look less like bullets and more like smashed pieces of metal.

2. It is no longer necessary to crack an egg to remove the yolk and white-- simply soak it in acid and the shell will dissolve right off! (A cook's tip for ya!)

3. Replacing candle wicks with shoelaces does not make for a romantic ambiance when lit. And, on a worse note, there goes your running shoes.

4. Don't buy Revlon liquid foundation. Just...don't.

5. Baby chicks can be dyed all sorts of colors. It still remains to be seen whether they can be flavored. I'd like a coconut-curry chick, please!

6. If you boil maple syrup and then freeze it, you may discover some crystals-- but how does that help your pancake situation? Two words: it doesn't.

7. Alka-seltzer will re-energize flat pop (and make it taste deliciously like medicine!).

8. Next time your child complains they are afraid of the dark, simply place a lightbulb in their mouth and hand them a balloon to rub on their head-- instant night light!

9. If you attempt to grow a plant in a jar upside-down and without soil, it will die.

10. A burning question is answered: Oreos and pureed kiwi are not a good flavor combination. And to think I might have tried it!

But the biggest disappointment? I did not see one, no not one, erupting volcano. Is that even legal? All I know is that if hubby thinks he's paid the debt with a measly tall Chai tea, he's has grossly underestimated how much he owes me. I'm thinkin' we need to head back to Starbucks....

Silly Hubby, Fans Are For Summer

Hubby thinks that running our ceiling fan full blast "helps circulate the warm air" in our house. I've got news for him, though. Over by the fan the thermometer reads 64 degrees. It's supposed to be 68 degrees in here according to the thermostat. But to be honest, both those numbers make my whole body shudder with shivers. So I turned down the fan and cranked up the heat.

Ahhhh, 70 degrees with no indoor "wind chill factor"-- now that's more like it! And if it's too warm for the hubster he can feel free to shed some of those unnecessary clothes of his. (Hmmmm, what a splendid idea! Excuse me while I go turn the heat up just a bit more....)

Viva La Villa

Am I allowed to say another man is smokin' hot as long as it's because he looks a lot like hubby? 'Cause if I am, then I gotta tell ya: David Villa is scrumdiddlyumptious! I just might have to root for Spain after all....

That's What She Said....

Amazingly, our home improvement projects are coming along quite nicely this week! It seems like during most undertakings one thing usually leads to another, and before you know it your initial project spawns 15 new projects you hadn't anticipated (bumping up your final costs exponentially). Well, that hasn't happened this time around (knock on wood). And guess what? We haven't killed each other yet. Not even once! Woohoo!

So you may be wondering-- what's blog-worthy about a home improvement project that's going according to plan? Well.... Most of you know by now that my sense of humor hasn't matured much past 3rd grade, so when I overheard hubby and the guys talking through their work routine, umm...I couldn't help but be highly amused.

Here, I'll let you be a fly on the wall:

"It's not quite fitting, I'm gonna have to pound it in."

"Give it a little tap-tap-tappy."

"Jiggle it a bit."

"Oh, that feels nice!"

"Grab it right there."

Heehee! Who woulda thunk they were talking about bamboo planks?

Anyway.... For those curious souls, here's a photo of the progress so far (although, in my techie-challenged way I managed to flip-flop the picture somehow, but you get the idea):

Oh, the joys of home-ownership! But, hey, aren't some of the best things in life hard? (Well, that's what she said....)

G'night everyone!

Worth A Thousand Words....

This is hubby. Hubby is napping. Wife is doing laundry while hubby is napping. Wife scores big "Susie Homemaker" points. But wife will lose all points if hubby discovers this picture on the worldwide web. Friends and family agree not to tell hubby. Everyone is happy.

Susie Homemaker Project

I'm a big-time reader. I wish it could be my job-- I'd read all day long. I've read (or listened to) over 50 books this year already, and if you're doing the math you'll discover that makes me a big huge geek.

But in my readings I'm often inspired. For example, one of the books I read at the end of last year was called "Do Hard Things", written by a pair of teenage brothers. So for my new year's resolution this year I decided to pick a "hard thing" to do every month. I've had lots of interesting months, let me tell you!

This month I'm going to share my new hard thing-- because I have a feeling it will be the source of much amusement for me-- and therefore you'll be hearing about it on this blog. You see, both my kids are in full-day school this year (WOOOHOOOO! Sorry, that just escaped....) and it seems that one of the most popular questions I get asked these days is, "So, what are you going to do with all your time?" Ummm, am I supposed to do something? Is there a secret here that I've never been let in on? Honestly, I was planning on becoming a soap opera expert and bon bon connoisseur. I didn't know there were other options for us stay-at-home moms who have kids in school. Dang! I was so looking forward to that!

But then I got to thinking.... What if I became a housewife? I know, I know-- I already am a housewife. But to tell you the truth, I'm terrible at it. I'm not a big fan of cleaning. I have a habit of only doing laundry when someone tells me they're out of underwear. The extent of my organizational skills include stuffing odds and ends into grocery bags and hiding it all in a closet somewhere. Lately dinner has consisted of three letters: P, B and J. And to me, "routine" sounds exactly like the word "slavery"-- so I tend to avoid it at all costs. Oh, and heck, I might as well go for broke and tell you that my hubby has informed me that sex every night would not be too excessive in his book. (Yikes.... I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that one.)

So as I was thinking of all the ways in which I suck at my one and only job, I decided to "do a hard thing" and actually try to improve some of those areas. (I'm still not sure about sex every night, though. That just sounds...painful. Can I get an "amen"?) So this month I'm starting the "Susie Homemaker Project". I figure if I put this idea out in cyberspace-- and list everything I hope to accomplish-- then I'll be more likely to follow through. Here goes:

1. Laundry will be completely done, folded and put away once a week.

2. A hot dinner will be served every night at 6:00.

3. Dishes will not remain in the sink overnight.

4. I will make my bed every day-- throw pillows and all.

5. I will choose a different room to de-clutter and clean every day.

6. I will go through (gag) all my papers (choke) and organize them (gasp).

7. I will give my hubby time every day to decompress and relax or go out with the guys.

8. I will have a quiet time every day.

9. Hair will be done and make-up applied daily.

10. Ummm...okay, this one's tricky. I'm not actually going to tell you my plan for sex (you're welcome), but just know that I don't anticipate that there will be any complaints.

Okay, now that that's done, I'm off to go shopping with my mama! (Hey, I never said I wasn't going to have any fun! After almost a decade of being a full-time mommy I think I deserve to let loose a little!)

Anyway, I'll keep you posted.... Oh, and don't tell hubby about this! I want to see if he notices on his own. (Evil grin.)

Stand Still!

Does anyone else find it annoying when you're trying to eavesdrop on your spouse's phone conversation and they keep leaving the room? Doesn't he know that I can't hear as well through the door?!

Happy Anniversary, Babe!

Hubby doesn't get me. I often catch him staring at me with an uncomprehending gaze, mouth slightly agape, head shaking unconsciously. I simply smile back sweetly with a "sorry, you're stuck with me, mister" look. Like tonight, for instance. Tonight is a perfect example.

I should have suspected an eventful ride home when LM started gagging in the far back seat of our minivan...but being a "glass half full" type of person, I assumed it was nothing significant. I turned around and shouted, "you okay, bud?". His reply helped confirm that the situation was not serious. Odd, yes-- but not serious. "Yeah," he said, "I'm having a little trouble chewing grass. I need to work on my grass-chewing, right Mom?" Ummm...how exactly do I answer that question? It seemed I was headed for uncharted territory. (Hubby offered a very unhelpful, "give him a drink or something!" as if I could conjure a juice box from thin air as we drove along. I think he thinks I'm magic.)

I was aware of the fact that just moments before we got in the car, LM had been partaking of the front lawn at my parents' house (when I say that he was pretending to be a Triceratops does that aid in your understanding?). But apparently little boys do not have the necessary tools to ingest grass properly-- at least my particular child lacks the skill. So there he was in the very back of the car, out of my reach, and gagging with increasing urgency. At this point hubby was getting a little frantic ("Do something! Give him some gum!") and that's when the first giggles struck.

Then LM puked all over the back seat.

With this, my giggles turned into raucous laughter. Hubby snorted at me disgustedly-- as if somehow I could have prevented the cookie tossing if only I had administered the gum. LM groaned in an "oh brother, not again!" way (he is no stranger to vomit). And then Ruby Jane began to gag. Upon hearing all this, my raucous laughter turned into uncontrolled hilarity and tears. And as the smell began to waft up to the front of the van, forcing us to roll down the windows for fresh air, I honestly tried to reign myself in. But it was useless. Hubby thought he'd try and help me get a grip by throwing out the sobering demand, "you get to clean this up!". But, for whatever reason, this too was funny, as empty threats often are....

Finally, finally, I managed a few deep cleansing breaths. I got a hold of myself, threw some napkins in the general vicinity of the back seat, and told everyone to hold on until we got home. And upon returning home, I surprised myself by helping LM get out of his spewed-on clothing and into the bathtub. I even removed his booster seat cover and tossed it into the washing machine. (Hubby, bless his heart, cleaned up the overflow in the car.)

But, the fact remains that hubby doesn't even remotely understand what I thought was so funny about the whole situation. I, on the other hand, cannot comprehend how in the heck he was able to keep such a stoic face the entire time. I mean, our son choked on grass for gosh sake! Grass! Normal people don't even eat grass. At least, not the kind you have to mow....

Anyway, like I said, hubby is stuck with me. And there's something absolutely hilarious about that. :)

Quick Question

So-- hubby was helping me fold and put away laundry the other day.  (Yes, that's sweet of him but let's not get derailed here.)  The thing is, he folded and put away one of Ruby Jane's training bras in MY lingerie drawer.  Therefore, my question is this: should I be offended...or flattered?  

Personally, I'm leaning toward offended....   

So Much For Exercising!

Today was the last Saturday of the training clinic for our city's big race (remember, the one I posted about last month?).  Hubby decided it would be fun if we went and participated as an entire family.  And since I was looking for an excuse not to have to run seven hilly miles this morning, I heartily endorsed this idea knowing the kids would force us to cut it short.  But I figured Ruby Jane and I could at least have a lovely jog together while hubby and LM brought up the rear.  But, as usual, my best laid plans are...well, dumb.

LM surprised us by starting out at a sprint.  We could hardly keep up, partly for laughing at his unique running form, partly because he's a freakin' Speedy Gonzales.  (Picture this: you know how Russian soldiers march with their legs all stiff and unbendy-like?  LM's form is akin to that style, but a bit more flexible and at about quadruple speed.  And his arms flop like wet noodles at his sides.  Also, he appears to be drunk.  He's not, of course, but he swerves all over the road like an intoxicated blind man.)  It's hard to breathe properly while you're snorting giggles out your nose, but we soon found out that LM provided many unscheduled rest stops along the way where we could catch our breath.  It went something like this: sprint, stop, pick flowers, walk, jog, sprint, stop, back up, point at something not there, jog, stop, whimper, sprint...well, you get the point.  

Amazingly, this unique running strategy actually had us passing folks on the trail.  And LM, being one of the most uninhibited creatures on the face of the planet, was compelled to talk to (or at) the runners, walkers and bikers we encountered.  At one point we saw two elderly gentlemen jogging toward us on the other side of the trail.  LM pointed to them and told us excitedly (like he would had he caught sight of a Spotted Owl) "Hey, look!  Men!"  Yes, sweetheart, men are just one of the many fascinating creatures to be seen while out here in the wilderness.  The men smiled and waved at LM, which pleased him to no end.  

Finally, we reached our turnaround point where there were water tables set up.  Two ladies who were going to be continuing on the full distance took the opportunity to first rest on a rock nearby.  LM walked up to them and asked, "Are you restin'?"  When they nodded he responded, "Oh.  I need to go poop!"  They smiled and nodded again, probably thinking that sounded like a pretty good idea at the moment.  Fortunately, there was a bathroom about fifty feet down the trail which LM spotted and yelled, "Is that the pooper?"  What a delicate way of speaking he has!

I looked at hubby pleadingly, and he understood my silent request.  "You and Ruby Jane go on ahead, LM and I will catch up."  Oh, thank goodness!  Ruby and I started jogging back toward the trail head, relieved to be free of our strange pacer.  

Hubby and LM took a shortcut back and arrived at our car about the same time Ruby and I did.  All in all, it took us about an hour to cover less than 4 miles.  Yes, an hour.  I'll just chalk it up to "family time" instead of "exercise", I guess.  At least everyone had fun-- LM especially.  As we piled in the car he sighed, "that was the best day of my life!"  Oh, LM, if only....

I Am Not Like That!

Here's a fun little activity to try with your kids-- extremely educational!  For whatever reason, the other day my kids stumbled on the idea of reversing roles with hubby and me.  I became Ruby Jane, hubby became LM, Ruby became me, and LM took over for hubby.  (Did you catch all that?)

And of course I recorded a few small snippets of our conversation.  (I happened to be on my computer when we started this imaginary journey-- thus these quotes came fresh outta our mouths and directly on to my computer screen-- although I couldn't keep up with the torrent of material presented during the entirety of play.)  

Ruby Jane: (speaking to me as I sat with my computer on my lap) "Ruby, what are you doing on my computer?  You know how much money I paid for that!"

(Have I really said that before??)

LM: (getting into the spirit quickly, speaking to hubby) "Bad boy!" ... "I need a cup of coffee!  Where are the coffee cups?!"

LM then proceeded to go to the kitchen and grabbed a mug which he filled to the brim with milk, leaving hubby to wonder what exactly he had done to deserve being chastised.  LM soon came back and sat down next to hubby and then whispered a few instructions in hubby's ear about how to impersonate him correctly:

LM: "You're supposed to pick your nose and suck your finger."

(Hubby attempted this, but admittedly it was awkward.)

After being scolded and sent to timeout numerous times for such heinous offenses as having a messy room and telling my "mom" to go put her dishes in the sink (apparently that's sassing) hubby began to tire of our game.  (The kids were on a roll, however.)  Hubby tried to think of a way to distract the munchkins and get them interested in something...safer for us parents.

Hubby:  "Would you guys like to go out for a treat?"

(And here comes Ruby's only accurate portrayal of me for the entire game): "No!  That's not in the budget!"

(Atta girl!)

After we finally were able to convince the kids to turn back into our children once again, I asked them if we're really so mean.  They assured us we were.  Frowning, I informed them I disagreed, and if they kept up that sassy attitude it would mean a timeout for sure!  (I'm kidding, of course...sort of.)  I think, in the end, what really stacked the odds in our favor was the fact that by remaining in the parental role, they would have to figure out some way to pay for our treat.  Hmmmm...so apparently being a kid's not so bad after all.  In fact, if they're ever able to afford us "kids", I might be tempted to just switch roles with them permanently!  Heck, if they'd at least clean the house and cook dinner for me that would easily be enough for me to relinquish my power.  

Er...excuse me, please, an idea is forming....

$306.86

That's how much it cost to have a plumber come out and remove potato peels from our kitchen pipes.  

$4.80.  That's how much the part he replaced cost.  (You do the math.)

Hubby received a 60-minute lecture on garbage disposal from very opinionated plumber; plumber hates disposals.  

Wife is sad to see large chunk of tax return go down the drain.  Literally.

Definitely a buzz-kill.  But...let's not allow that to spoil our vacation, shall we?  

Dispose THAT!

Oh, this is just too rich....  The irony of it!  Needless to say, I am loving every single second-- can't even wipe the silly grin off my face....

Gosh, pardon me-- I haven't even explained what I'm talking about yet, have I?  The fun is this: our sink is clogged!  Now, I would have an entirely different take on this situation if the clog was my fault.  But it's not.  It's hubby's fault!  I love it!  

You see, when hubby put the waste disposal in our sink a few years back I got a 60-minute lecture about the proper use of such a device.  Even my dad put his two cents in.  (Can't remember what exactly he said-- but his implication was basically that garbage disposals were only good for helping women clog up pipes-- he suggested hubby just forget the whole idea.)  Sheesh, even my mother-in-law called to tell me that she caused such a serious waste disposal clog it backed up their whole sewer just last week.  (Bet father-in-law loved that!)

So imagine the pure delight I'm experiencing right now.  For years I've used my disposal so responsibly that there have been no clogs so serious I couldn't take care of them myself (now that's saying something!!).  Then, last night, hubby decides to grind up a sink-full of potato peels (I always scoop them out of the sink and toss them in the trash instead-- just as I was taught to do).  Well, those little sweethearts were too much for my kitchen plumbing to handle.  I mean, we are talking major clog here-- it's just too delicious for words!   

Hubby is in there right now under the sink.  There are buckets of nasty water and dirty, wet towels everywhere....  He may have said a slightly naughty word or two even.  I feel like a giddy schoolgirl, I tell you!  We may even need to call a plumber!  (Oh wait a sec...that's kind of a buzz-kill right there.  Plumbers are stinkin' expensive.  But, as my mom is so fond of saying,  "let's not allow that to spoil our vacation, shall we?".)

So, now all that's left to make this night perfect is for me to walk in there and tell him that the stupid garbage disposal is a real bugger-- and that he is my absolute hero for saving the day with his handy-man prowess (without ever uttering the kill-joy term "I told you so"-- simply takes the fun out of everything, that does).   

Oh, gotta go!  Hubby just noticed I'm sitting here on the computer while he's working his tooshy off.  Time to make my grand entrance into the kitchen!  Ahhh, what a great night....