I Miss Norm!!

I LOVE holidays! Ask anyone. I'm the biggest fan of holiday food, decorations, festive parties, cheerful songs, etc... but I've decided this year that what I REALLY want the most is normalcy. The last year was packed full of event after event and this upcoming year is going to be equally as full... all I want is for things to be normal, just for a few minutes, so that I can get back to some form of a schedule. My back goes out... can I see my chiropractor this week? No! Why? Because he's gone for the holidays. Can I get my clients information on upcoming programs? No! Because they're all closed until January 3rd. Not to mention the numerous client no-shows for the past month due to them "forgetting" we had an appointment in all of the holiday rush... really, people? Write it down like the rest of the world has to (I even bought them planners... you'd think that would help but it doesn't!). And it only figures that one of the dogs would crap on the rug today while we were gone... heck, the holidays have messed up my "regularity" (pardon the crudeness), so why shouldn't it mess up theirs? New Years, please come quickly... and then go away! (This here ends the rant of the Grinch of New Years Present.)

Who Needs Mistletoe

Nothing says "Happy Holidays!" quite like a spousal argument, silent treatment, and a fist-full of stubborness. Needless to say, our holidays were incredibly happy during our trip back home from Michigan after a meaningless argument over packing the car. Equally as fun was our decision to carry this argument over for another full day ('cause that's obviously both therapeutic and healthy of us.... good thing I'm a therapist and he works in the mental health field and that we're both VERY well-versed in conflict resolution and positive coping skills. If the tax-payers only knew that we refuse to apply these skills to our personal lives....) Anyways, we continued to be nasty before ignoring the conflict for the rest of the day (always the best approach, really). The only problem was that I grew tired of being stubborn and "right" or "justified" today (maybe I'm being a softy, or maybe I'm just getting too old, lacking the amount of stamina needed to keep a good fight going for too long anymore). I didn't WANT to be right if it meant feeling alone in this big house for another night (I'd rather feel like a real couple again... as we walk away to our now full-time separate bedrooms).
I held my ground till I got home from work this evening... I tried to pass him by in the driveway and just go inside until my "rightful" apology came. But I couldn't do it. I needed my welcome-home hug and my comforting evening kiss. So I took it. I didn't need mistletoe, I just needed my husband.

Merry Christmas Eve

Well, our Christmas in Michigan has officially begun. We've watched holiday movies, we started (and probably will never complete) a holiday puzzle, and we attended our Christmas Eve party with family. The holiday spirit is in full swing, except for one small oversight on my part. I forgot to get my husband a card to open on Christmas morning with his presents (it's my first year at this, cut me some slack). So Hubby was on his way to run a few errands this morning and asked if I needed anything... I told him that I needed a card for him still and asked if he would wait for me to come with him. He apparently didn't want to wait for an hour until I got cleaned up, so he went without me. He DID, however, return home with a card that he bought FOR HIMSELF that is to be from me. The card's cover has a big teddy bear on it and says "For A Very Special Boy!" It is literally a card for a 6-year-old. So I signed it and put it underneath the tree. He is, afterall, a very special boy.

Log Flippin' Chaos

Tomorrow we leave for Michigan to have Christmas with my family, but we realized that two of our gifts were really just too big to pack into the car (the one for me being so big that it would probably not even fit ON the car... what could it be, what could it be!!!). So we decided to have Christmas with our big gifts tonight. I am now the proud owner of a BEAUTIFUL end-of-the-bed bench that will hold my throw pillows in it's spacious storage area (instead of keeping them on top of the hamper or dog beds), which comes along with two lovely, chocolate-colored wooden breakfast-in-bed trays. I'm super pumped!! (Which is more than I can say for the gift that I bought for my husband... he likes it, but a log flipper for cutting wood seems so far from festive to a girly, inside-girl like myself.)
The story behind the log flipper is this. When I went to the store to purchase his gift (I'm not going to name the store in order to protect those who may work there from the verbal beating that follows), I walked around the building for literally 45 minutes trying to corner someone into helping me. I found a guy wearing a store t-shirt, but he was off-duty. Luckily (or not), he chose to point me to the isle I needed (keep in mind I have a Christmas list with a bunch of gift suggestions on it, none of which I've ever heard of in the first place), only the "tool" sent me to an isle that had NOTHING to do with log flippers or head-lamp-high-lumen-thingies. So I had to wait in line at the register just to have someone paged.... someone that NEVER CAME! So I waited in line AGAIN and had the same idiot paged to the front.... I was beginning to think the entire world of Tractor Supplies was against me (ooops, did I give that away??). Anyway, once the hick version of a boy band member finally did his job, we find out that the specific log flipper that I had on my list was not going to be sold at THAT particular store, but I was more than welcome to try their Ohio branches. Well, that's great news! I could've driven to Ohio and back in the time it took to get that answer! Congratulations, pimple face, for completely taking me out of the Christmas spirit and making me want to steal your family's last bit of Who Hash..... So I bought a different log flipper. It will still flip logs and my man will be none the wiser (until he reads this....).

I've Eaten My Weight In Cookies

My body is apparently trying to rename Christmas as Bingemas....if I eat just one more Christmas cookie.... (well, I'd like to end that with "i'll barf" or "i'll just die", but in all liklihood, I'll simply enjoy it and keep eating). I spent the weekend making brownies and cookies for holiday parties, and I don't know how it happened, but it was a modern day 7-loaves-2-fishes miracle.... I just kept putting the batter and dough into the oven, and more cookies and brownies just kept forming. Between my miracle mixing bowls and my miracle measuring cups, I'm going to need some miracle pants (preferably ones with an elastic waist) to deal with this miracle gut I've developed.
To prove just how sick I really am, I actually felt ill from the smell of the baked goods and had to retreat to the basement to do laundry until the nausea passed. Any sane person would recognize this as their body's way of saying, "Hey, fatty, enough is enough for today. Pack it up and try again tomorrow." But since I'm NOT sane, my body said "Hey, you're not nauseous anymore! You should celebrate by eating more sweets until that little bit of regurgitation and stomach acid tickles the back of your throat... and even then, just wash it down with some milk until the moment passes and keep on truckin'!" And I was doing so well with the diet too, even on Thanksgiving.... I blame the Schwanns man (everyone needs a scapegoat, right??).

Little Coaster Eaters

As much as I like to blame my husband for things, this one I can't seem to pin on him. One of our little furry munchkins (HIS dog) has been chewing things around the house. Perhaps she's bored, maybe she's jealous, but either way, we know it's her. The other day, I came home to one of our new coasters chewed to shreds and strewn about the house.... naturally, we blamed her (well, I also blamed Pat for leaving the door open to the room where the coasters are currently residing... he took the brow beating rather graciously).
Today, however, I had to suck it up and take responsibility for my own lack of door closing, as well as for my own little furball. As I pulled up to the house, Milo did his usual move and ran to the window to see who had arrived (tail wagging, causing full-body wagging in the window... it's really very cute). Molly joined in, body wagging, thoroughly happy to see me, completely unaware that she has done something wrong.... as I stared at her through the window, my mouth dropped when I noticed that she didn't have a raw hide in her mouth, but one of our coasters with the letter "C" on it... a wedding present.
I tried scolding her through the window, but she just wagged away, so happy I was home. When I got inside, I took the coaster away and scolded her (which I'm pretty sure just confused the crap out of the poor girl; she rolled onto her back very submissively just before kissing/soaking my entire leg). I went to put the chewed coaster with the rest of the pile. But wait.... the rest of the pile was gone. Vanished. Shreds of little coaster parts littered the floor. She ate the entire pile of coasters (at least 8 were in that pile!).... they really do resemble her treats (in her defense) and I couldn't blame my husband (he wasn't even home). I saved the chewed coaster.... it was a wedding gift, afterall.

Jello Leg Syndrome

It turns out that the Rotten Eggs was a precursor to someone getting the flu today. After an upset stomach all morning, my hubby attempted to go to work, only to turn around and come right back home (stopping along the way, trying not to get sick in his truck). So we cancelled our plans for the evening and stayed home, lounging and relaxing until he felt better.
Strangely enough, lounging turned my left leg into jello. Seriously. How did I know that my leg was jello? Well, I started out standing, and I ended up on the ground, that's how I know. It must have been quite the sight. I literally took a step out of bed (and this is where the slippery wood floors and the super soft socks got the better of me) and my knee just stopped being a knee, leaving me to crumble to the ground. I stood back up and locked my knee (which worked wonders) and then I bent it to take a step and down I went. AGAIN! This occurred about 6 or so times. No pain, no problems when the knee was locked, the dumb thing just wouldn't work when it was bent! So I straight-legged it back into bed where my knee began cramping, so I decided to go with it and play lame for another hour and a half. Apparently that was my leg's way of telling me that I needed more television time, because after I watched a few more shows, my knee was ready to join the land of the walking again. And so our house is back to full health once more.

Rotten Eggs

"This must be what they meant when they said 'For better or for worse'", my husband said to me tonight. This was in reference to the foul stench that has been leaking from his behind for the past 24 hours. Now, I'm not one of those prissy girls that thinks farting is "ew, gross"... in fact, I think the act of passing gas is one of nature's greatest stabs at humor. I still giggle if my bum makes the sound of a duck, or if I leave a "silent but deadly" somewhere around the house. But tonight has changed the meaning of bad gas forever. What is currently taking place in my home can only be described as wrong, sinful, and volatile. I'm being assaulted by an invisible force that comes in waves every 10 minutes or so. It's as if my husband ate a dying animal that had ALSO eaten a smaller dying animal... and both of those rotting carcasses are seeping out of him in such a way that it should leave a color or some sort of liquid in it's place. It's so palpable, it's almost chewy. I just threw up a little in my mouth. If I don't live until tomorrow, someone please come look for my body.....

Stink Bugs

I'd like to know the life expectancy of the Stink Bug. I would also like to know what these things feed on, AND what their purpose on this planet is. It's the middle of December and my house is still littered with the things! I pulled out Christmas boxes today to put gifts in and there's a load of them living in my tissue paper.... if that's not gross, I find them floating in my water cup, in every corner of almost every room, and hopping around the rugs of the house (making a lovely crunching sound when you step on them). I have 3 dogs that adore catching flies but they won't kill a Stink Bug if their lives depended on it. The fact that these bugs are still alive this late in the year is amazing, especially because I have no idea what they're eating in my closet and on my rugs... they better not be laying any Stinky babies, that's all I have to say!

My Man Is Better Than Chocolate

It has to be said that my hubby is wonderful. He's like an ice cream sundae, topped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream.... he's not great for my diet, but he's really sweet and comforting:) For those of you that don't know it, my man is not a holiday fan, nor is he into socializing a whole lot... he IS happy cutting down trees, playing with a chain saw, and getting dirty in the cold. However, he also knows that I AM a very social person that NEEDS to get together with friends, play games, laugh, etc., and that I absolutely adore the holidays. So what does my better-than-chocolate-man do? He offers to go Christmas caroling (PS, he hates singing), see the Nutcracker (twice actually, because he saw it once (and hated it) with a client and then offered to see it again with me because he knows I like it), participate in the Christmas program at church, and decorate the house. Now, it's no matter that we didn't go caroling and we never went to see the Nutcracker.... my man knew it would mean something to me to offer it. And when we don't have friends to socialize with (we ARE in the sticks, afterall), he offers to play games with me or do an activity together. So my husband can fatten my hips any day of the week, because his sweetness is worth it.

A Day For the Doctors

A word you never like to hear your doctor say is "lumpy". Think about it. Is there ever a context in which "lumpy" can be said in a positive light? "Sir, your cornea looks lumpy" or "Mrs. So-and-So, I'm afraid we've found a lumpy tonsil" or "I can assure you that everyone has a lumpy (insert body part here)".... it's never a good thing to hear. But today, I got told I'm lumpy by a doctor (which REALLY is a boost to the ego, if you can only imagine). This occured AFTER I was attacked by the good lab technicians at the local hospital. I really had high hopes upon entering the registration station... the gal was super friendly, sweet, and overall endearing. She cheerily sent me on my way to the witches that live in the dungeon that is known as "Outpatient Lab" without a warning of what was ahead. Not only are these the most unfriendly women I've ever met, but as I sat there awaiting my bruise, the next two people that signed in at the desk actually cursed while coming to take their seats in the waiting area! (We're talking some VERY rude and unfriendly service when 75-year-old sweeties are swearing at people.)
I'm finally called back into the room and the lady all but rips my sleeve trying to attack my arm with the needle to finish off my allergy testing for food. Not only have I NOT been able to fully straighten my arm for the rest of the day, but I also had the priveledge of experiencing irony on my arm.... yes, I was ALLERGIC to my allergy blood draw (well, to the tape they used to hold my bloody cotton ball to my throbbing arm, anyway). So, overall, I can honestly say that I wish I could've gone to work instead of taking my vacation day to feel like a lumpy, bruise of a human being.

A Romantic Surprise

It was an exhausting day. This may be due to the double dose of benedryll I consumed before bed (to offset the allergic reaction to the sushi restaurant from the night before), or the fact that I drove all day in a snow storm (leaving me tense, especially after I spun out in an intersection), or maybe it's due to the incredibly hard yoga class I had tonight (seriously, we're talking pretzel positions, back bends, and partial hand stands.... I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing!). Nevertheless, when I finally pulled into the driveway, I was cold, wet, and shaky (re: spin out and hand stands).
I walked into the kitchen and find my husband (standing in a long sleeve t-shirt and long johns, which was funny and endearingly cute all at the same time) standing over a beautifully set table (nice napkins and fancy serving dishes included) and homemade sushi rolls, fresh green beans, blackberries, and tea. My heart literally melted (unlike my toes and fingers) as I saw the sweet effort he put in to make my evening lovely:)
To sum up: 1) No allergic reaction so far, and 2) I have the bestest hubby ever!

Sushi For Two

I have no idea how it's possible, but my picky eater of a husband loves sushi rolls. He has the pallet of a 6 year old, yet he can ingest raw fish quite happily. On our honeymoon, we participated in a sushi-making class which consisted of more tasting than anything, but we decided it's really quite easy, so we'll make some at home... except we live in the middle of no where and our grocery stores wouldn't DREAM of carrying seaweed paper or sticky rice. So we decided to try a new sushi restaurant tonight to get our raw needs met (get it? raw needs?), each of us ordering a sushi roll, clear soup, and a meal. Toward the end of my meal, I started getting a burning sensation on my toungue, inner lip, and under my nose... it started itching like mad and, as I sat there, scratching my tongue against my upper teeth, I realized that there's a very real possibility that my whole head could swell up at any second. So I was wiping under my nose with ice water and sucking on ice cubes, trying to get this weird sensation to go away as we drove to the nearest grocery store (in search of benedryl? Nope... we found seaweed wraps and sticky rice!). The itching and burning went down in my mouth from about a 9 to a 2, whereas my nose is still at a 4, as are my cheeks and jawline. But I'm just happy that we can try this all again tomorrow in the coziness of our own home.

Fat Cells

I had a bit of an emotional breakdown this weekend. The last few years of steadily gaining pound after pound catches up with me now and again, creating a weepy, snotting mess of a woman. So after this particular breakdown, I tried combating my mood with humor. Perhaps if I poke fun at myself (and my ever-growing fat cells) then maybe I'll accept where I am with my weight instead of feeling terrible about it all.
That's a great idea (some would say).... if my hubby wasn't feeling "intimate" I'd say something like, "it's because I'm fat, right?" (with a giggle). If he said I missed a spot cleaning up the counter, I'd respond with "Obviously my fat is starting to cloud my vision." We have been laughing and having a good time about it, and it's honestly making me feel better about my situation.... thankfully, my man knows better than to join into this game (minus the occasional jelly-belly comment, or pointing out that a bigger belly just means my boobs won't sag so much... which I'm still not sure how to take that one...). He has reminded me that he thinks I'm beautiful no matter what, and even if there is more of me to go around, he doesn't have to share me with anyone. (Insert "Aww".)

Flood, Quads, and Little Bits of Urine

For those of you that don't know, we live on a river. Now, this river generally flows at a mild to moderate speed and gets so low in the summer that our tubes get stuck on the bottom of the river when we try to float along (maybe this is because we're a bit chubby, but I have a feeling it's the water level...). With the recent rain, our slow-moving, low-level river turned into rapids and floods that overtook our road, making it near impossible to leave our yard. I was able to make it to work by wading through a shallower flooded area and turning up an old dirt, one-car road and taking it up and around the rest of Ellwood City, only to double back to go the other way to work.... unfortunately, by the time the river finished rising (while I was gone) our small escape route flooded over as well.
How did she get home (I can hear all of you wondering with nervous anticipation)?? Luckily, my husband's 4-wheel drive truck was able to make it home earlier that day, but wasn't able to make it back to pick me up at the end of our neighborhood.... so he suggests that we leave my car parked where it was and he would pick me up on the quad and take me home via the train tracks. Let me paint this picture for you a little bit more clearly. I, being a somewhat dim-witted woman at times, decided to sport holey jeans, a t-shirt, and a "sweater jacket" which kept me about as warm as an ice cube all day and did not make a great quad-riding outfit in DECEMBER! On the plus side, I had to pee like a race horse. Oh wait, that's completely NOT a plus side.
My nice man brought me a hooded jacket, scarf, and gloves for the ride home (which felt like a half hour with the wind racing against us, but only lasted about 8 minutes). I was shivering up a storm and couldn't help it when a little bit of my pee happened to sneak out in the cold... twice. That hasn't happened since high school! (I mean, Kindergarten?) All in all, we made it home and the roads were cleared by this evening for my traveling... and my underwear is in great condition, too.

I'm a Terrible, Sneaky, Cheat

Well, you might as well all know.... I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar. (Literally, this blog is actually about cookies.) I was at Walmart over the weekend and just trying to waste time as I waited for my pictures to be developed, and as I was browsing the photo frame isle (I wasn't even NEAR the cookies!) I saw a sign for candy-cane oreos. Really, how can a girl pass this up, right? However, I did just tell my husband to keep me accountable on the diet we resumed after Thanksgiving... but perhaps I can get them and only eat a few (she justifies to herself)? I'm weak and disgusting, so I bought them (eating half the box in the car ride home from the store) and I hid them upstairs in my closet. (If I left them in the pantry, it would just be tempting to him too, and I'm no Eve.... plus, he would just eat them all and I'm too selfish to share something that good.... I told you I'm terrible, just read the title.)
Tonight, I went upstairs to watch some tv and my hubby had left to go to the store for a few minutes. I took this opportunity to binge (ever so slightly) on the remaining treats hidden in my closet. I was down to the final two cookies when I heard the front door close. Quickly, I shoved the cookie I was holding into my mouth and hoped the last delicious nugget would blend into my nightstand so he wouldn't notice it. I lept off the bed, choking on dry crumbles, and ran to the other room, attempting to hide the cookie carton in the bottom of the garbage (one that only I change anyway). On my way back to the bedroom, I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs so I sped up.... my slippers slipping on the hard wood floor as I made the turn, nearly choking on the food in my mouth. He comes into the room just as I'm leaping into bed, feeling guilty and sure he will notice the brown gooey marks around my lips. No. The man notices (with his cookie-spying eye) the brown, camoflauged goodie on the nightstand and says (with shock and accusation) "What the heck is this!" I turned red and thought fast, trying to make up some believable story for the mystery cookie next to me.... should I deny it's presence? Perhaps I could tell him I found it behind the bed and hadn't thrown it out yet? I opted for the truth, leaving my silly justifications out of it. And then he ate my final cookie in one big mouthful, scolding me with his eyes. I told him how I almost fell and choked on the oreo. He thought it served me right.
I'm a terrible, terrible person.

My Big Panda

After going to the theater the other night to watch a kid's movie, we decided to stick with that theme all weekend... afterall, I was unable to move for so much of it that it just seemed best to stay on the couch eating leftovers and giggling at silly movies, such as Elf (a classic, really) and Kung Fu Panda. There's a million great references to my hubby and my eating habits, my clumsiness, and overall goofy natures during this movie... however, there is one scene toward the end when the big panda is lying down next to his teeny little Kung Fu master and the camera moves to an arial view. Out of nowhere my husband says, "hey look, that looks like you and I in bed!" I was really hoping that he wasn't referring to ME as the panda, but it was very clever nonetheless:)

A Pain In The Back

What I thought was simple PMS back aches and post-turkey day soreness has turned into full-on back spasms, tightness, and inability to bend the full way over without coming to my knees. Yet this did not stop me from organizing my husband's "man room", decorating for Christmas, and going on our date night (although after the first two activities, I required a portable heating pad and a man that could handle my constant gasps if I moved the wrong way.... and he did). We went to see the new animated movie called Tangled, the story about Rapunzel (which was really cute, by the way.... even if we're perceived as creepy for being the only adults there that DIDN'T have a small child with us). The movie was super cute, but our date night's completion was sadly given a rain check due to the spasming lower back. I'm very blessed, however, to have a husband that still considers it a good night when he sees a kid's movie with his wife:)

Thanksgiving

Have you ever had an ominous feeling, like you just know something is going to go wrong and you try to mentally prepare yourself for it ahead of time? I am SUPER familiar with this feeling, probably because I tend to have rather poor luck and God knows my OCD flares up without a heads up, so he sends me a mental warning so I can get ready for whatever is to come. Last night, hubby and I sat on our living room floor playing games for hours, laughing, having a great time. We were all snuggled into bed when my heads up arrived. Some may call me a pessimist, or a negative nellie, but when I woke up to dog puke all over the carpet, our picture window filling with rain water (on the INSIDE!), and our 5-day-thawing turkey still frozen, I stuck my proverbial tongue out at all of those who question my intuition.
Having prepared myself, however, I had a quick cry, cleaned everything up, and got to cooking. We had a wonderful day with our family, eating delicious food and enjoying each others' company. My man even tried everything I made (with the exception of the potatoes) and liked it! So overall, our first Thanksgiving together was a success, even if it was slow-starting:).

Boggle Pride

Generally speaking, I kick butt at word games. It's just who I am and I try not to brag about it. But really, it would be like Jennifer Lopez feeling guilty because she's beautiful... she just can't help it. Having this knowledge of my insane Boggle abilities, my husband usually refuses to give me the satisfaction of a game now and again..... but tonight, he was feeling badly for me because I apparently lack friends to hang out with, so he humored me and allowed me to cream him (round after round) until he was utterly tired of playing. However, he was down, but not out! I challenged him to a 10-round game of Dice (a passed down game in which the rules are still somewhat shady), and wouldn't you know it, he won (at a game with no skill and purely luck, but who's paying attention)! All kidding aside, I was grateful that my best friend chose to spend the evening neglecting what he wanted to do (chop logs up) in order to do something that would make me feel happy.... and guess what? It worked :)

Yoga Boogers

I managed to make it through the day fairly successfully, considering it WAS my first day back after the yucky flu. Around 3pm, however, I became rather tired, irritable, and my gums started to hurt (my classic sign that the infection still resides), but I was determined not to miss my yoga class tonight. So I sucked it up (and blew it out as the case may be) until my 6:30 class. As I sat in the warm hallway, waiting for aerobicize to end (yeah, it's really called that), all I really wanted was to curl up in that overstuffed, sweaty gym chair and fall asleep to the sounds of clanging weights and echos of locker-room banter. But no! I was not going to give into my base needs, not when my body had layed around collecting fat cells all weekend.
What I failed to consider before attending my class, was the fact that downward dog (along with all of the other downward poses that yoga entails) would, in fact, make my internal congestion become external. It was around the 5th forward fall that I had to start swallowing snot in order to prevent it from jumping out of my face and onto my mat. And once warrior 3 hit, I HAD to grab my kleenex.... and lets just say that I completely ruined the very serene atmosphere for the girls around me tonight. I sounded like all kinds of phlegm and boogery goo as I filled 3 tissues (skillfully missing out on tricep push ups). On the bright side, my yoga instructor seems to think that despite my nasal passage woes, I would actually benefit from becoming an instructor :) Ah, I make quite the impression.

The Flu Is The Yuck

After about 5 days of getting worse, I believe that today my fever broke and I'm heading upward toward the land of Health. I've been in the final stages of blowing, sniffing, and draining today, but my energy has come back (mostly). (That could be due to the fact that I was in bed literally from 2:30pm Friday until 11am this morning.) I was very impressed by my hubby's sweetness to me during my days of sickness. He cleaned the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher, and made me all my meals in bed (even going to get me my beloved ginger ale from the store). He rented me movies and checked on me often... I was very well taken care of. Although today I was in a nagging mood for some reason and jumped all over his case for every chair he didn't push in and every crumb he didn't wipe up.... He told me that he's SOOO glad I'm back to my old self :) (however, I DID feel bad for being grumpy and we made up). Back to work and a short week!

Rituals and Metaphors

I'm sorry, but all day trainings are for the birds. I spent 8 hours listening to a very odd woman talk about making rituals with families and using "creative" (slash CRAZY) metaphors with clients to help them look at their problems in a new way. I get that, really I do. But when we start bringing in Star Trek characters, the Wizard of Oz, and various food products, it really just gives me the giggles.... and it ALSO gives my co-workers the giggles too, as we lost our ability to control ourselves around the 7th hour. Thank God for other social workers that don't get too caught up in the over-analyzation that is our career!
After work I was able to go to a church meeting with my hubby and then watch ridiculously silly sitcoms while I nurse this flu/cold that has been attacking me recently. I think around Metaphor 218 I realized I had injested my last cough drop, but my hubby is doing a wonderful job of helping me relax and unwind from my day of butt kissing (I mean, engaging in very USEFUL training discussions). Time for bed:)

Everything But the Kitchen Sink....

It's just been one of those days where everything that can go wrong, has gone wrong. My man and I decided to try the same bed together again last night and, naturally, I was up most of the night. I had crazy weird dreams and just tossed and turned all night. Then, because it had rained last night, the ground was muddy and someone whom shall remain nameless kept letting the dogs back in with muddy feet (in his defense, he WAS wiping them off, but this was a time when we needed a bucket of water to wash them down), so I ended up in a huge row with him before work, making me late to run out the door. As I'm headed out the door, my boss calls to tell me that I hadn't entered my daily log into the computer from the day before and all logs were due today... she said she'd enter it for me, but that's rather difficult since I brought the log home with me. But I was in a hurry to get to the doctor's office for some allergy testing, so I thought, hey, I'll see if they'll fax it for me (which they did, as I waited 50 minutes for the nurse to arrive to do my allergy testing!... once again, in her defense, the receptionist never logged my appointment into the books, so she had forgotten I was coming in today). As a side note, please let me point out that EVERY time I walked out the door today, it began to rain (this happened 4 times).
As I sat there with my sleeve rolled up, I asked the kind nurse if this was going to hurt. "Oh, not hardly at all honey, just on the ones you're allergic to." Wouldn't you know it, I'm apparently allergic to everything but the kitchen sink? I got over 30 shots shoved into a 3 inch radius of upper arm.... on the 4th shot from the end, the nurse says, "Oh, I think you're more sensitive the further down your arm I go, I'll stick to up high." Oh good! I'm glad you figured that out SO CLOSE TO THE END!! On a bright note, I can roll in 3 kinds of mold and climb a tree without getting sick, but I'm pretty much allergic to everything from grass, to dirt, to dust, to pets....things that are airborne, things that are living, things that are stationary, indoor, outdoor, you name it! And next week, just for kicks, I get to see which foods I'm allergic to as well.
So I head to work, arm bloody and burning, only to have most of my appointments cancel on me, my boss have a PMS day, and I fell down the stairs at work... probably because my shoes were WET FROM THE RAIN! Time to call it a day before something happens to the kitchen sink, too.

Tremendous Husband Awards

If today were a Red Carpet event, I would dub it the Tremendous Husband Awards. I would dress up in a beautiful, long, flowing gown and my hubby would wear his camo shorts (commando style, I'm sure) and a hoodie (afterall, it IS his day, he should get to be comfortable, no?). Together we would strut down that red carpet with all the confidence in the world that he would take home the plaque (afterall, I did nominate him repeatedly today).
What did my man do to deserve these nominations? First, he got up and, upon realizing that I had a headache, he made me breakfast.... IN BED. (Dippy eggs, just the way I like them, with buttered toast and orange juice.) Second, he cleaned the kitchen. I'm not even kidding. He loaded the dishwasher (he even rinsed the dishes off before loading!), wiped down the counters, scrubbed the skillet, and hand-washed what would not fit in the dishwasher. If you like that, you're gonna love this... then he SWEPT the floors, even moving the couch to collect the dog hair balls that were floating about AND fixed the sofa cover!! (Please note that the nominations are just adding up at this point.) Then we get to church (which was freezing cold) and he sat with his arm around me trying to keep me warm, even though I know this is uncomfortable in those pews and he gets a kink in his back pretty quickly. After this, he procedes to be sweet at pie to me all morning (and evening), kissing my hand, complimenting me, asking me if I want HIM to cook dinner..... he even worked down in the basement WITHOUT getting upset and yelling at anything! I don't want to praise him too much and jinx this amazing day, but I have to say it... The Tremendous Husband Award goes to.... (drum roll....) .... PATRICK COSTA!! (I love you, Bubba!)

Sexy Barney

Whereas the purplish hair remains, it has somewhat faded to a darker auburn. However, because my hair was so long when I dyed it, it didn't dye evenly, so there are shades of the original light brown and blonde highlights that show through, making me look slightly more punk than I intended. So today, I'd had it. I was sick of long hair. My hubby likes long hair, but really, it's just a pain in the buttocks and I decided that my happiness is truly more important than his :) So I got it chopped! Approximately 6 inches fell to my feet at the salon as Lori chopped and layered and blew dry my Barney locks. In fact, Lori actually liked my coloring job! (I always knew I liked that woman.) My husband anxiously awaited my arrival (aka texted me every ten minutes to see when I would be home). As I emerged from the car, my hubby grinned, gave me a kiss, and asked me if we could "sleep in the same bed tonight". Apparently my Barney-do is super sexy in my man's eyes and we can both enjoy happiness afterall.

Conspiracy Theory

Well, I didn't even know that this was possible, and frankly, I'm impressed that my dog was able to develop the one bowel issue that I myself don't possess, but unfortunately, Molly has Colitis (aka, permanent-poopy-butt). Now, I know that humans can get this disease and it can be rather painful and it involves bleeding from the intestines and rectum, dehydration, and random crapping about (I'm realizing I should have put a disclaimer at the beginning of this post for those that have weak stomachs). But I had no idea that dogs could get this, as well. It appears to develop mostly in dogs that have anxiety problems (so the fact that Molly is terrified of brooms, mops, fake flowers, bras, furry coats, spatulas, new people(etc, etc, etc) leads me to believe that her puppy stress has turned into the proverbial pain in the butt!).
The strange part in all of this is not the medicine, special food, or constant clean-up.... it's the fact that the vet asked us to collect a urine sample from Molly. Ok, seriously? How in the HECK does one go about getting a dog to pee in a cup?!? We followed her around the yard for an hour in the cold (holding our mini tupperware), Molly nervously scampering away from us as she eyed the mysterious object. Have you ever seen how close a dog squats to the ground? Because I assure you, there is no cup in the world that is small enough to fit between her pee hole and the ground. But obviously a vet would know this, and yet she still asked for this impossible feat to be accomplished. Therefore, I now believe that the veterinarian is actually bugging our house and yard with hidden cameras, waiting to see how us idiots will go about collecting this urine. Oh, but I'm on to her schemes. I WILL conquer this task. (Suggestions are always welcome.....)

Seperate Bedrooms

After just shy of the 3 month mark, my husband and I have discovered the joy of seperate bedrooms. As fond as I have become of his nightly moans, gas, and snoring, it was a welcome change when my man realized that the large bags under my eyes were not my attempts at the latest makeup trend, but really signs of utter exhaustion from lack of sleep. Therefore, he suggested he sleep in the spare bedroom last night. And wonders of wonders, this little wifey slept like a baby on a cloud made of lavender squishyness and melatonin-like cotton balls. I put in a movie of choice, turned on the sleep timer, and swept myself away into the center of the king-sized bed, down comforter snuggled up to my ears, dehumidifier humming, and the ocean noises playing on my alarm clock. No one got up to pee at night (hitting the bed and jostling it into the wall on their way back to bed), no one smacked me in the face with the weight of a dead arm, and no one breathed heavily onto my face with breath smelling of sunflower seeds.... but tonight, I will allow him back into our marital bed. Afterall, what good is being married if you can't reach over and touch someone at night (but the night after is fair game).

Always Somethin'

Life can be funny sometimes. And by funny, I mean rude, inconsiderate, up and down, and just plain awful. (Life sounds alot like PMS.) About a month ago, my car decided that it needed a new battery. Apparently the old one just wasn't cutting it anymore. So the lovely people at the store put in a new battery... and for free, they threw in a broken radiator hose as they jostled the battery into place. Since that fateful day, I've apparently been leaking anti-freeze all over our driveway, which my pig-dog smelled and thought, "DESSERT!", leading to the 10 days of diarrhea and bloody stool we had to take her to the vet for last week.
Anyways, my car has been in the shop for going on 3 days, and I borrowed my mother-in-laws car the first day, but today, today I got the honor of driving my husbands truck. The entire way to work I noticed that his brakes go all the way to the floor before STARTING to stop. I mentioned this to him. His response is, "Well, they worked yesterday." (Said with slight attitude.) Me, having no idea what that has to do with anything, respond that it does me very little good that the brakes worked yesterday, since today they do not work. His response? "Oh, ok, well I guess I made it up that they were working yesterday!" (ok, WHAT??)
So as I drive home, the truck is shaking everytime I use the brakes and I have several near rear-ending incidents, which I procede to tell my husband, who slams the door in an angry moment. (Again, I'm really not sure why this is all happening.) I ask him to not slam the door so my door wreath doesn't fall. His response? "Oh, that's right. I ALWAYS slam the door!" (Oh my gosh, seriously? Is this really happening???) So not only does my life have PMS, so does my husband! Maybe if I start walking to work now, I can make it by my appointment at 10am, but I'm sure that would be something to yell at as well.

Weekend Happenings

My hubby and I had a lovely weekend together. Friday night we enjoyed each other's company by watching a depressing movie (just because something has 4 stars doesn't mean it's a feel-good movie of the year!). Then, on Saturday, we had a date night and went out for a wonderful dinner (I got to have pumpkin ravioli again and it was delicious!). Unfortunately, due to having been eating so healthy lately, the heavy meal made us both unhappy in our tummy's and one of us (not me) left the bathroom in a fairly sinful state and then proceded to sin all night long under the covers. But we laughed and joked and then fell asleep to a movie (a much funnier pick this time). And today, after church, I made a huge dinner for us and his family (all very healthy and low fat), and then they praised me repeatedly. I beamed (humbly, of course) and enjoyed the compliments. This was my practice for Thanksgiving dinner, which I'm going to do as low fat as possible (but still tasty.... I hope) with the use of new herbs to increase taste. And now, to finish this weekend, we're going to attempt some couch time together and try to stay awake past 9pm and prove that we are NOT 60 years old.

She's Been Violated!

I like the thrill of getting scared. I enjoy scary movies, intense scenes where you're just waiting for someone to jump out and then BAM!!! It's fun to tell ghost stories around a fire and to play pranks on people to freak them out. But this week I saw something that was so scary I can barely talk about it.
It began at night, close to dawn but still dark outside. The house was quiet with just the faint muffle of puppy snores. The dim glow from the hallway nightlight was all that lit the bedroom when I got up to get a drink of water. As my eyes began to adjust, I looked across the bed and saw it.... my husband.... naked as a jay bird.... hairy as a beast.... SPOONING MY DOG!!!!!!!!!!!
My poor, helpless Molly, layed there completely unaware of this obvious violation, snoring softly and enjoying this extra-special cuddle, while my husband layed there, inhibitions apparently aside, leg over top of her, nuzzling her neck with his face.
I'm struggling with nightmares now, food has lost his taste, and I rock in a corner whenever my dog comes near me. I just don't know how to move on from this.....

Blah Blah-Blah Blah-Blah.....

I think I know how men feel. For a brief moment in my day, I think I finally had a glimpse into the mindset of a man (no, I wasn't thinking about boobs or football). So there I was, in the kitchen, reading labels and trying to make a nice, healthy snack, when my husband comes into the room and begins rambling (and wow, do I mean rambling) about something (and that's a fact, I honestly cannot remember what he was talking about!) and I found myself getting so irritated that I actually had to tune him out for most of his chitter chatter! It was like he was a 6 year old girl and she just discovered how cool she thinks Barbies are or something and she wants to tell you EVERY DETAIL. Finally, because I couldn't tune him out any longer, I simply said "Please stop talking, you're annoying me." ha, the look of utter amazement on his face was beyond priceless!
He reminded me that this is what he has to deal with day in and day out, living in a world of women...
Oh my gosh, it just happened again! He came in and totally distracted me to the point of losing my train of thought! Is he on estrogen or something?? Will this continue? Am I going to feel like a man from now on?
Anyways, he has been laughing at me ever since because he thinks this is funny that he finally "wants to talk about his feelings" and I just want him to go away. If only he knew that I love him more when he is silent....

First Day On A New Diet

After learning that I will finally be able to get allergy testing (thank you, JESUS!!!!!), I got very motivated to be healthier. I can't make it to the gym regularly anymore due to my job schedule, so I have to improvise. Yoga and Pilates during the week, gym when I can, healthy eating DAILY. My man uses his smart phone (my phone is apparently stupid?) to calculate his calories for the day using the FatSecret application. Well, it turns out you can use them for free online as well, so we decided to start logging in everything we eat, beginning with today. So if anyone wants to join, we can motivate each other on their website and do this together! I've got 18 unwanted pounds to shed, and it's good to know that I have my man helping me:) We did our protein shakes, TONS of vegetables today (thank you, Katie;), salad, and lean protein. And Pat actually LIKED the food a lot! So I think we can do this if we really try. And one day, when I can breathe through my nose again, I will feel even more wonderful!

PS, this is NOT an advertisement for a smart phone or an application.... I secretly think smart phones are a semi-retarded craze that makes people overly dependent on one piece of technology and unable to make it through the day without rushing to it every few seconds.... that being said, I want one.

Telephones...A Blessing Or A Curse?

I find that everyone with my phone number seems to have impecable timing when it comes to calling me. My husband is first on this list. If I were a gambling woman, I would bet a large amount of money on the fact that my phone will ring, more than likely from my man, the very moment that I put my hands into the soapy dishwater, I step into the shower, sit down to do my daily "business", get on an important phone call, have my hands full with groceries, or just begin a favorite tv show. And if I do not answer, it's not like he goes away.... I know that my phone will ring at least once a minute until I pick up, and naturally there will be a few text messages in between. It's not that my husband stalks me, because I just seem to have this luck with mostly everyone who calls me regularly.
Now, lets transfer this luck to the fact that I'm on-call at my job for the next WEEK. This is a 24/7 on-call system, so the moment my head hits the pillow.... ring ring? Luckily my boss is keeping her phone on to help me through any crisis calls for the first couple times I'm up for this swell position, but lets just hope that my husband's impecable timing does NOT transfer over to my work phone! (And just for kicks, I think I'm going to start calling him everytime he sits down to read his book.... hehe :))

Barney

Well last week DID end, and the weekend brought fun times with friends from home, including making carmel apples, a bon fire, movies, and an awesome dinner at Shakespeares. And my man surprised me by doing such a nice job of cooking us breakfast (with sliced fruit to boot!) and cleaning up after himself and others the entire weekend. He even rubbed my shoulders last night, so I honestly feel capable of starting this week. I get to experience my first week being on-call, so we'll see how that goes, especially since my allergic reactions have continued and I'm being heavily sedated with benedryll at night. Let's pray that no one calls past 9pm!
On a less than happy note, I decided to take the plunge and go red....with my hair. I picked out a beautfiful light auburn shade (as to avoid all those mishaps that have occurred before with red hair coloring). Why the past wasn't my predictor of the future, I'll never know, but once again, I have purple-ish hair. Did it lighten and turn red? Not a chance! It darkened (almost black) and has a purple glow in most lighting. Pat keeps singing "I love you, you love me...".... I can't even lash out at him because hey, I DO look like Barney!

Will This Week EVER End?

This has been one of the busiest and most stressful weeks I've had in a while. Long days, lots of crisis at work, and trainings out the wazoo. My partner at works father passed away, which was simply gut-wrenching, especially because she found out about it at work during a meeting. I felt utterly helpless, having only known her for a short time, but completely heartbroken for her. It also reminded me of last year when my own dad had a heart scare and I found out during work. So lots of emotions have been stirred up, needless to say.
On top of that roller coaster is the fact that I had to do all of our back-to-back appointments today by myself. And wouldn't ya know it, my second appointment goes up in flames when I find out he brought 2 knives to school yesterday, tried to slice his mom's tires, and then when he punched his mom during our meeting when she tried to get the RAZOR BLADE FROM HIS HANDS!! So yeah, we restrained him, retrieved the razor, and then he ran away for a while... I'm a GREAT therapist. I also had 3 cancellations...AFTER I drove all the way there for the appointments. And yet, even with the cancelled meetings, I still managed to work an 11 hour shift, only to have to be back in tomorrow at 8 for a 12 hour shift.
Ok. I'm done complaining. My family is alive, I didn't get cut with a razor, and the cigarette smoke will eventually wash out of my hair. Life could definately be worse!

Train, Train, Go Away

I think I have finally found the trick to blocking out the trains! (well, at least every other night, and usually only once a night do I hear the train, as opposed to the multiple awakenings from last month.) If we keep the window above our head closed (easier now that it's getting chillier in the evenings) and we turn on our humidifier (which sometimes makes a repetitious sound that makes me have to shut it off... hence hearing the trains on those nights) AND if we turn on Pat's alarm clock that makes ocean noices (waves, wind, sea gulls... although I have to keep it at just the right volume to sufficiently block out the annoying birds but still be able to hear the waves crashing), then.... THEN I can get some sleep..... half the time.
Piece of cake!

Good Wifey

I must admit, I was an excellent wife today. Afterall, my hubby did deserve it. He finished putting the hallway floor in for me and didn't even leave me a mess for when I got home (all the dishes he used were even put in the dishwasher!!!). So I rewarded HIM with a romantic rendevoux for 2 (complete with candles and everything.... but they made the room stifling hot and we almost suffocated.... he also took 2 phone calls, but hey, if that's how he wants to spend his reward time, that's his choice!). Then, on top of the romantic encounter, I gave him full control of the television (even if it WAS to watch yesterday's Steelers game)... he even offered to turn on House, but I told him that it was his night. I was very impressed with our give and take today. Job well done, Costas. Good game :)

Two Months or Too Much?

haha, ok, that title has nothing to do with today's blog, but Pat was commenting on our time together and asked how long we've been married. I said "two months.... or too much, however you wanna look at it ;)". Needless to say, he thought that was a great blog title, so I used it, just for him:)
We had a great weekend of working, movie watching, Halloween fun, and a fun 6-year-old's party! I got to spend time with my Mexican for the 2nd year in a row, and he enjoyed my disco attire (actually, I think he just liked the fishnet stockings, but oh well:). So, not to completely embarrass myself (but it hardly seems fair to only embarras him day after day), but we had a great time last night with the party and good conversations there and back.... so I decided, sure, let's allow the fun to continue (if you catch my drift). The only problem was that the combinations of foods I'd had throughout the day didn't lend itself nicely to my tummy... (can you see where I'm going with this???) Just as he's nearing me with that "happy boy" glint in his eye, I gave him a quick warning (but not quick enough) and just ripped one right on him. We're talking baby diaper quality gas. It's not like I did it on purpose, but the man acted like I had just shot his dog and then spit on his mother! He got all sulky, shut off the lights, and refused to get back "in the mood", despite my many apologies (ok, so I was laughing a little bit too, which may have made my apologies seem a bit disengenious...). This morning, however, I was plagued from 3:30 until about noon with a case of the runnies. THIS caused him to realize that I really wasn't just being a jerk and farting on him for no good reason, and yes, my stomach was truly upset. He has decided to forgive me, but promises to never let me live it down. So I'm beating him to the punch and telling everyone myself. My name is Shivonne Costa, and I am a Bed Farter.

Call A Doctor!

I came home today and found my husband very sick today. The poor man looked healthy enough, but on closer examination of the house, I realized that only a very sick person would dare to leave the house in the state that it was after his wife had been away at work for 10 hours. I didn't detect any couging, sneezing, or bleeding sores, but I'm pretty sure my husband is suffering from a case of the I-don't-see-it-therefore-it-doesn't-need-to-be-picked-up-itis. (Some people have referred to it in layman's terms: lazy.)
I love my guy. I really do. But I'm wondering if his illness is causing him to have a lapse in memory of his love for me.... or the fact that I thoroughly cleaned the house last night before going to bed (despite the hives, exhaustion, and allergies I'm dealing with) so that today when I got home from my long day, everything would be nice. In his defense, I suppose that there are truly some people out there that do NOT know how to operate the modern-day dishwasher. I bet in some cultures, it's considered a compliment to leave dirty dishes in the sink, or to walk past trash that has been strategically placed by the door (for days on end), or even to leave bread crumbs and coffee grinds as a trail to find your way from room to room. But in this case, I really do have to take into consideration his ill-health. Because only someone with a severe diagnosis would allow rice to harden into a pot on the stove for hours, despite being reminded to put it away. I better call a doctor fast, because if this doesn't clear up quickly, I'm afraid my husband may die.

Family Basted

I work as a Family Based Therapist in New Castle as my new line of employment. What I find truly amusing is the fact that my fingers REALLY have a hard time typing the word "based" while I'm typing up my notes after sessions. Despite knowing this, I consistently have been typing "basted" into my notes instead. When I proof-read my logs before hitting submit, I giggle each time I forgot to catch my mistake, because it sounds like I'm prepping my clients and their families for Thanksgiving dinner. I've decided that some of my clients (and their families) could probably use a good basting with soap and water, nevertheless, it shouldn't be in my professional notes.
The other option is to simply type FB for Family Based.... but all I can think about with that is Facebook, which really shows that I'm tremendously pitiful in my preoccupation with facebook if simple initials are bringing it to mind so quickly. Eventually the new job title will win over facebook, but until then, I'll just have to continue to baste my clients and type my work notes into facebook.

What a Stinking, Awful, No Good, Crap-Filled Day

Well I'm going to count the fact that this blog didn't post the last 2 that I wrote as being totally how the rest of this day has gone.... So if you've missed me for the last few days, it's not my fault. I blame blog-world or whatever this thing is called!
Today was ridiculous right from the get go. Tell me, have you ever started your day cleaning up 8 piles of diarreah from brand new carpeting? Then, in the same day, did you have one of your dogs (I know which one) chew up an ink pen on your ONLY OTHER large area rug, completely ruining it? AND did you work a 10 hours shift, naturally being late due to the before mentioned dog poo? Oh, it's also super improtant to mention that while running 15 minutes late (causing problems at work since I had our work van key....) cleaning up dog crap, I got it all over my clothes too? Plus, this is AFTER I barely slept last night, due to being able to smell said crap throughout the house? Then, my husband has the nerve to get mad at ME for not wanting to clean up the mess with our shop vac. Really. He actually yelled at me because I didn't want to get bacteria and turds all through my vacuum!! I was also double flipped off today by a man refusing to go over 30mph in a 45 zone (one hand out of the sun roof, the other flipping me off out of the driver side window... how he did this without crashing was so impressive that I honked at him to show my level of awe), I was stuck behind 2 busses, 2 semi's, a man that was approximately 467 years old, and a bull dozer going less than 5 mph.... all that leading up to the construction that I hit once I entered town. And wouldn't you know it, my entire body broke out in severe hives; we're talking the ones that look like I'm a red head covered in freckles. They're on my scalp too, making it insanely hard to put hydrocortizone cream on them. So I took a bucket of benedryll and feel like I'm looking at things with beer goggles on, including this computer screen.
Did I mention my email account got a virus it's sending out, too? I quit tody. Period.

Everyone Needs a Date Night

Last night we decided to go out. We had worked hard Friday and Saturday, so we thought, hey, let's use a gift certificate and go to the Log Cabin. Unfortunately, Saturday night at 7:30 (ON SWEETEST DAY) is not the time to randomly choose to have date night. Ugh. Well, we were left hungry and wanting to try something new (aka me wanting to try something new, Pat wanting to try the same Mexican restaurant we ALWAYS eat at, ordering the same meal he ALWAYS orders). So we compromised and chose something I wanted. The food was good, a bit overpriced, and we were seated next to a horrendously chubby family with less than satisfactory hygiene (as they ate their 11 course meal). However, we still had a nice time laughing and talking (even if there WAS still paint in my hair).

Then we watched Star Trek.... not the awful show, the new movie, which was actually very good, despite the fact that it's totally NOT a date night movie. But once again, it was a compromise... until our neighbor came over and hung out with us during our date. It's a good thing I don't have high standards for Sweetest Day. Overall, the date was a success:)

It's Finally Here!

This is it. Tomorrow is the big day! Tomorrow I get to say goodbye to the furry friends and creepy crawly ickies that reside in our basement. Tomorrow I won't have to strip down in the cold, dank cellar, using the same razor for the 9th week in a row (I honestly haven't been able to find the new pack I bought just before the wedding), and try to shave in a dark corner. Tomorrow I won't have to wear SHOWER SHOES!!! Do you want to know why? Of course you do or else you wouldn't be reading this crazy blog of mine. Tomorrow, folks, is the day that I get to shower in an actual tub!!! It is in, the sealant should be dry, and it (will be) clean! Let the heavens rejoice and the woman shout with glee.

(Now, who would like to take bets that I go to get into the tub tomorrow and there's a huge, nasty spider in the tub? Any takers?)

Potties, and Snoogies, and Drool, Oh My!

I was under the impression that I was going to be able to have a short work day today. I only had one scheduled appointment, then some more orientation and paperwork, but then I was going to call it a day. Well, the first house my partner and I went to was filled with dirty children and a very pukey mommy. Needless to say, we cancelled that one and went back to the office. For the last few days, both of us in the room have been fighting whatever bug is going around. The one with the sore throat, stuffy/runny nose, headache, and exhaustion? yeah, that's the one. So we're lysoling EVERYTHING and using hand sanitizer like it's water.
I thought I was in the clear and that I would be able to leave without encountering any more sickness for the day... that was before I was asked to provide "respite" aka babysitting for 4 children while their parents received couples counseling upstairs. So there I was with a 10 year old, 9 year old, 3 year old, and 2 year old playing with puppets (which the little ones were putting in their mouths), making meals in the fake kitchen (which the little ones were putting in their mouths), and building towers with blocks (which the little ones were putting in their mouths AND wiping their VERY green snot on). Then, the 2 year old (who is apparently being potty trained) had the "urge" every 10 minutes or so, causing him to whip his diaper off while in the middle of peeing, me trying to "aim" his little boyhood in the direction of the bathroom (not even the toilet, just trying to get it on linoleum instead of our work carpet). I am pretty sure that every single inch of me has been infected by little boy grossness. When I have my own kids, they will be better raised than this. Everybody with class knows that you put your boogers on your own toys, not someone else's.

There's a Toilet Im My Bathroom!

Perhaps all of you modern folk have taken your toilets for granted. Those of us that have been remodeling for 2 months are aware of the emotional lows that come when you technically have a bathroom, but you can't use it. In fact, we didn't even have a toilet in our bathroom for about 5 weeks. And now, we have it all!
Today, my man told me that he was only going to be able to seal the underboard. Then, he sends me an exciting text that we would indeed have linoleum today! THEN he sends me a picture of our vanity, light, and countertop in! Finally, I get home and there's a toilet coming into my house!!!! I was ecstatic! Tonight, when I get up for my usual urine-break, I won't have to stumble down the stairs and get the dogs all excited, thinking they're going outside. No, TONIGHT, I will pee in peace. I love my husband:

Project Bathroom = Minty Fresh

Today we did in with the Shamrock Shake green. I went back to Busy Beaver (yes, that's really the name of the store) and purchased the lightest shade of green you could get. It actually looked white-ish to me, only noticable when held up to a white sample. I get it home, filled with hope. As I began painting, I realized that it definately does NOT look white, rather like Mint. Now, don't get me wrong, I like Mint... I like it a million times better than Shamrock Shake. However, how in the world do people actually buy the color of paint that they want when those samples in the store are completely NOT the same color?
There has to be some sort of paint-department conspiracy to keep customers coming back, spending more and more money trying to get the right paint hue. Well this customer isn't buying into their games. This customer is going to be a quitter! I'm going to learn to live with my minty fresh bathroom if it kills me, and I'm gonna LIKE it, too. Busy Beaver, you will not win, for I refuse to paint that dang room one more time.
On a brighter note, Pat gets to lay the rest of the flooring tomorrow and then it's just the tub, vanity, mirror, lights, and shower head:) Oh sweet bathroom, it will be so good to finally meet you. I'll see you in my minty dreams....

One Room Down, One To Go

Well we finished the living room this weekend! After 3 days of continuous work and very, VERY long shifts, we finally finished a room! The living room looks lovely with it's Acorn Nut and Barely Beige walls, Olive patterned, stain-resistant 12x12 rug, new accent pillows, wall hangings, and cool new table and benches:) Unfortunately, the "aqua" color we chose for the bathroom made it feel like one was drowning in a Shamrock shake.... so we added a gallon of white paint to the mix to try lightening it up some. And now it looks like a slightly-lighter Shamrock shake. It's ridiculous the physical reaction we all seem to have upon walking into the room! So a new color will be chosen immediately. However, kudos to my man for working like a slave all weekend, asking what he can do to help ME, and then not telling me how much he hated the bathroom wall color until I mentioned it first, just in case I liked it. Very sweet, very needed:)

I Can Suck My OWN Thumb

Early this morning, I was awakened (after being repeatedly elbowed all night) to my husband poking his index finger in my face until finally shoving it INTO my mouth, somewhere between my upper teeth and lip. Um, excuse me? Can I help you? Unless you are a dentist, get your wood-choppin', dog-pettin' hand OUT of my mouth. After being elbowed in the face so many times, I should've bitten his finger, but his not-so-subtle snoring told me that he was still, in fact, asleep.
Thankfully, we had a productive day of painting (I'm loving my Acorn Nut colored living room!) and getting rid of old appliances in our basement. Then we went to dinner for some Mexican food with a group of friends, with Pat putting the moves on me the entire time, just like we were on a real date:) Hopefully tonight he remembers that although I do like the occasional Lady Finger, I am generally NOT in the mood for a Chubby-Italian-Man Finger, and to keep his hands, digits, and elbows on HIS side of the bed and out of my mouth.

A Night In

We decided that after a long week, me with the new job, Pat with mudding and sanding, that we would spend the night in watching funny zombie movies and snuggling. It was going wonderfully until my lovely husband decided to let the dogs in without wiping their feet. Again. So the evening turned into a wonderful time of cleaning up mud from the floor and the furniture. Apparently we are now "taking space". It's a good thing I like cleaning. Because that's obviously what I'm going to be doing. For the REST OF MY NATURAL LIFE. I sincerely hope God has a special jewel for my crown entitled "World's Best Husband-Picker-Upper-Afterer". And Pat's jewel can be entitled "Ew. Gross." But those are just options. I'm open to other titles.

Mono of the Heart

I am honestly and downright sad about leaving my old job and the families that I worked with for a year and a half. All day I find myself thinking about the meetings that I'm missing with the insurance company, school observations that I want to follow up on, and brainstorming with parents to come up with new ways to work on target behaviors. I'm stressing about the new job, feeling incompetent and fearful for what lies ahead. There have just been so many recent changes, and I think that it's effecting my physical body.... I thought I may have mono; super tired, weak, fatigued, nauseous, grumpy, runny you-know-what, not to mention the allergies. But I'm thinking it's more emotional stress than anything that is causing these mono-like symptoms. Heart Mono.
On the plus side, my observant husband noted that our one dog had become ill (also runny you-know-whats) on the new hard wood floors and tarp we had down while mudding the dry wall. But have no fear, he tells me. He's taken care of it. Ladies, if your husband has ever told you he has taken care of something, you too, may have found yourself with poop on your arm as you were walking out the door for work after he's left the soiled tarp outside of the door instead of washed off and put back in it's place. "I didn't see it!" he claims. But you and I, we know better. I'm probably going to get Mono of the Arm now, too.

First and Last Day

It was the first day at the new job, but the last day for my parents. They leave in the morning, Project Master Bath not yet completed, but further along than we could've expected considering all that's gone wrong. With a few mental breakdowns, several major fights, and a zillion house catastrophes, it's a wonder we're all still speaking (or living) at this point. But I was alive enough to drudge through the first day of work, consisting of signing a trillion papers, attending meetings, and reading massive amounts of literature regarding the company. I think after a 6 weeks of every possible change known to man, I need to hibernate (just for a few months). I will miss my parents, though. And eventually my bathroom/living room/stairwell/hallway will be complete. It's an exhausting miriad of emotions going on right now, and I know that all will eventually work itself out and be wonderful... hopefully sooner rather than later, because first and last days are never the easiest, especially when they are the same day.

Project Light-It-Up!

Today was a super good day as far as being productive on a bunch of little things around the house that were really starting to get frustrating.... and strangely enough, they all had to do with lighting. The overhead light in our bedroom now works (thank God, cause my makeup was starting to look overly-"fierce" since I couldn't really see myself until I got outside), the outlets in our bedroom now work, we hung our chandelier and our outside lights for the front porch (which my mom completely cleaned and spider-sprayed for me:)), and we hung our living room light.
Additionally, my man did a great job installing a second shower head downstairs so we can spray the dogs off, replaced piping on the hot water heater that had gone bad, and he merged our hot and cold hoses so they equal warm water now in the basement.... I'm actually really impressed. I knew he could do plumbing, but the initiative he had and just beautiful job he did was very exciting (and it was all without being asked, which I'm more appreciative of than he realizes...) and all he asks for in return is something about white thigh highs..... ;)

Possibly A New Low

It's not like I plan to have temper tantrums, they just happen. And it's not like I try to have impulsive thoughts of murder, violence, and blowing things up, but hey, like you've never been there? Perhaps my anger at this house (and my husband this week) has gotten a little out of hand, but (like there's really a justification for throwing things and screaming that you'd rather die than hear a train again) seriously, I've been teetering at that breaking point for 6 weeks and I think I finally tottered on over the edge this morning.
Thankfully, God saw fit to send me an angel in the form of Ace, the lovely man that works at our local Busy Beaver. He was the correct amount of helpful, encouraging, and lighthearted that I needed in my time of insanity.... that and the large amounts of chocolate I shoveled into my blood stream upon leaving the store. Ace gave me helpful hints about bugs, gardening, home improvement, paint colors, and the relationships. He has become my Dear Abby.... "Dear Ace, Today I tried to throw myself off the second story of our farmhouse and onto a strategically placed pair of hedge trimmers. What do I do to succeed next time? Signed, Tired of the Train"
"Dear Tired of the Train, just remember that if you die in the yard, the spiders will carry your body off and eat your remains. Do you really want to let that happen? Of course not. Next time, just eat more chocolate, change the paint color, and remember my soothing voice as the train screams in your ear at night."
Thank you, Ace. Thank you.

Last Day

Today was my last day at Comprehensive Children and Family Services. As I said goodbye to my last few clients, their families, and co-workers today, I felt a bit of nostalgia and even wondering if I was making the right choice. My families were all very sad that I was leaving, but it was a weird emptiness today as I noticed that they had no choice but to start detatching from me so that they could move on as well. So my nerves for Monday and starting the next career chapter of my life are growing in both excitement and fear.... I'm happy to be able to work with co-workers daily and actually be able to make friends with people that I see consistently. But the job itself still has so many unknowns that it's easy to fall into the trap of questioning what I know is a much better position for me. In any event, God had this job seek ME out (they called me several times while we were on our honeymoon to tell me that there was a job they wanted me to apply for) and God wouldn't send an employer to find an employee unless it was the job that was right for this new phase of life. Maybe it's all just been so overwhelming with the wedding, honeymoon, moving, parents living with us, and remodeling for a month (oh, and yes, STILL PMSing).... but hopefully the IBS clears up by Monday and the first day at the new job:)

Whistle While He Works

I'm sure you all will be thrilled to know that my man and I are done fighting. (cheers from the peanut gallery) It's amazing that a simple "I love you" will put one's relationship on the path to redemption so quickly... so after my statement, I awaken around 4am to my hubby snuggling over to my side of the bed all cutesy-like, before dropping his dead-weight arm across my abdomen and breathing heavily onto my forehead. Now, I'm delighted by the sweet gesture in his half-awake moment, but after a few moments, I started to feel light-headed and my heart was racing (NOT because of the sweet gesture, but because I totally couldn't breathe). And the breath that I was getting, was the disgustingly warm, re-used breath of another person that you get when someone is talking too close to your face (or that you get when someone simply falls asleep on your face).
So I HAD to pull away, you see, or I would've suffocated. Thankfully, my husband was dead to the world and had no idea that I completely shunned his sweet apologetic gesture. I knew he wasn't offended because he whistled. All day long. When he is happy and all is well with the world, we may hear anything from "Happy Birthday" to an old hymn from the 1800s (seriously) and I'm pretty sure that today, we heard both while he helped out on Project Master Bath. Perhaps I should get my dad some ear plugs, but it's good to know that my "I love you" and a death-snuggle in the middle of the night are all it takes to put the whistle back into my hubby's work.

Are You There HGTV? It's Me, Shivonne

Never really getting into HGTV before, I'm not sure how I managed to make it through the day without seeing Mike Holmes' sexy overalls, Property Virgins giving it up to their first home, and House Hunters (yes, even the International version) penny pinching to have the home of their dreams. They really get ya by showing one episode right after the next, without even a commercial in between to distract you into doing real work on YOUR OWN HOME. But I must say, I'm becoming quite the little addict :) I'm even becoming less annoyed by the people with their ridiculously picky "MUST HAVE" lists and the couples looking for extravagent summer homes to match their UBER-extravagant spring, fall, and winter homes. But if anyone from HGTV is out there and reading this menial blog, my name is Shivonne Costa.... and you can feel free to come to my home, make me an episode offer, and fix my house for free. Amen.

Down in the Grumps

Well, I guess it's not considered fighting if you're simply not speaking to one another, but it feels like a fight either way. I'm not sure if everyone's first month of marriage is as strenuous as this or if it's that we've had a large amount of stressors that have just kind of taken over, but either way, I'm grumpy. Between the rain and gloom, dwindling pocket book amount, ever-continuing house renovations, and PMS, I'm about ready to go into hibernation for the next month and try again around month #3 to see if wedded bliss occurs then instead. But for now, this gloomy, poor, annoyed, PMSer is signing off and going in search of chocolate, tissues, and a back massager...

Insomniacs R Us

At first I thought it was just me, but apparently our entire household decided it was too nice of a night to waste on silly tasks like sleeping. So instead, we all stayed up for most of the night, in our respective beds, desperately trying to fall asleep but not quite reaching our goal. Everytime I was about to drift back off into the land of Nod, I was awakened to a gust of wind blowing the blinds above my head till they made that rattling, buzzing noise.... or I woke up to the sound of the toilet flushing downstairs (since, keep in mind, we were all up and roaming freely last night).... but my favorite was when Pat woke me up to tell me he hit me in the face.
Hmmm. Did I wake up when you hit me? (she said) Well, no. (he said) THEN STOP TALKING! (she said sweetly) I believe that this situation warrented an apology only if the injured person were awake. So, after we laughed for a bit, we were finally able to fall asleep, that is, after the 6:30 train went through. Now that we're all thoroughly exhausted, we're going to get a late start at the bathroom and kitchen cupboards. Wish me luck.

We Have FLOOR!!

I can honestly say that the most exciting thing that happened today (and relieving for all involved) is that we now have flooring in the hallway leading to our bedroom! Perhaps, while going through your everyday life, you take advantage of things, such as walking on floors without worrying about stepping on the solid beams and not the pipes.... or maybe turning on a lightswitch and the light coming on.... or even getting to use a bathroom in your own home without having to wait in a long line.
Obviously, not all of these things can be rectified overnight, but I'm choosing to get super excited over the fact that the coat closet now has a handle, the kitchen cabinet now shuts all the way, and that we have FLOOR in our hallway! Oh, and I'm excited that I'm super cool for building an entire pantry closet by myself.... just give me a diagram, NASA, I'm ready.

St. Patrick's Day

My husband, Patrick, and my dad, Dennis, have been working like slaves from morning till bed on Project Master Bath. Sweating, barely eating, running into glitch after flop, sore backs, bruises, exhaustion.... needless to say, my boys need a day off for being the saints that they've been. My dad is convinced that he should keep going until he gets to a stage where the work will slow down considerably, but I know my hubby. And my hubby needs a day of rest. Therefore, I dub tomorrow St. Patrick's Day in honor of his hard work, sore back, and need for alone time. No work for Patty tomorrow :)

(P.S. Bubba, if you're reading this, I love you:))

Just Put Me In A Bubble and Seal Me Up

On a few occasions of my life, I have known to be (again, just once or twice) slightly.... clumsy. I know what you're thinking. How could this charming, intelligent, funny girl manage to hurt herself as often as she does? There are people that hurt themselves on purpose to fulfill some inner sense of reality and feeling. And here I am, mocking them with my unintentional incidents of self-abusing behavior. Perhaps with all of our furniture moved about, power tools lining the floors, and random nails scattered around, I have been less than safe in my choice of footwear (flip flops, bare feet, etc.). But it is truly amazing how many times I have stubbed my toes, banged my knees, and rolled my ankles in the past few days.
I can't even blame the latest incident on Project Master Bath, as it happened while I was trying to read my planner and walk at the same time (normally I could do that PLUS chew gum, but apparently I'm losing my touch). Needless to say, I completely rolled my ankle, leaving it swollen and ridiculously sore. Upon hearing that I had hurt myself for the hundredth time in 3 days, my loving husband sent me a caring text message, asking me if he should build me a bubble to live in once the bathroom is complete. Ah. It's always comforting to know that when you're hurting, there will always be someone by your side to laugh at you and make jokes at your expense. I am truly blessed.

Zzzzzz....SOME of us are getting them

For those of you who don't know, I may in fact be the world's lightest sleeper. Anyone who has ever lived with me can attest to this fact. This is a problem that seems to be getting increasingly worse with age. When I was a baby, my mom could run the vaccum in my bedroom, jostling my crib about the room without waking me up. As a child, loud noises could stir me, but I was otherwise sound asleep. In college, I struggled with the desk lamps of my roommates and the constant buzz of activity outside our room. In my first apartment, the mere sound of the refridgerator running sent me over the edge.
An now? Now that I live in an old farm house, what could possibly keep me awake? Bugs flying into my ear while I sleep and buzzing me awake (YES, that was about a week ago)? A husband that saws logs in his sleep as much as he chops wood while awake? The sound of puppy dog nails on the hard wood floors of our room, hall, etc.? Yes, yes. All of these things keep me awake at night. But none as painfully so as the train that goes through our front yard 1-4 times nightly, riding it's brakes and tooting it's ever-joyful little horn, mocking me as I lie in my bed, tensing with every passing screech of the brakes..... I somethimes envision myself sabatoging the tracks for the following night while I lay in bed half-sleeping, half-anxiously clawing at the covers waiting for the train to pass and wondering if and when the next one will come.....
But not to worry, everyone. According to everyone I've spoken to, there is good news. Apparently, I'll get used to it! Isn't that WONDERFUL news? And here I was, getting all upset over nothing. One to two years, tops they say, and I'll be sleeping like a baby. Until then, ..... zzzz..... oh, sorry, fell asleep typing..... zzzzz

Alone Time... THEN Together Time

After the 9th day of work on Project Master Bath (which has quickly turned into Project Hallway, Living Room, and Basement), we decided to watch the Tom Hanks classic, The Money Pit, for a few laughs. It was fantasic to giggle at Tom Hanks' misfortunes in the movie, misfortunes that we could somewhat relate to.... but the laughing stopped the very next day when we ran into more termite damage, no internet, brown water from the faucets, some sort of insect outbreak, holes in the ceiling and walls, and torn up carpet. All in all, it's safe to say that I had a rather large meltdown. I mean, ladies, who wouldn't! On top of it all, my one dog was projectile vomiting on the hour and my other dog got into a dog fight with the neighbor dog.... so theres the dog imitating the Exorcist and the dog imitating a pirate with his one eye closed up after being scratched.
So Pirate and Pukey and I tried laying down for a nap to take the edge off.... just as the power saw started up. Needless to say, my nap was unsuccessful and I was A LITTLE edgy (meaning my husband could have sliced a BRICK with my edges).
Seeing my need for a break, my parents had an evening out to give me and my man a little time together. What did we do? He took a quad ride into the woods and watched a movie on his computer. I showered and blow dried my hair for the first time since this project began (blow drying my hair that is... I HAVE showered in the last 2 weeks!). I also did my nails and watched my own movie... Today, however, our grumpiness seems to have greatly subsided today. Apparently we needed alone time BEFORE we were ready for together time:)

Six Loaves, No Fishes

So it's not exactly the story of the multiplying of the fish and loaves.... it's more a story of the man who ate ALL the loaves and would've probably eaten the fish, except he doesn't like most fish, due to the fishy taste. My husband, when hungry, has an insatiable appetite at times... something that can only be solved by carb-overload. We can go to a restaurant, him saying "I'm not really all that hungry..." only to place his order and then frantically scan the door to the kitchen for our waitress to arrive with our food. At this time, my husband then uses both hands to actually shovel food into his mouth at speeds that are undetectable to the human eye, and one may miss his meal entirely if they yawn, sneeze, or even blink too long.
All this to be said is that we are experiencing a large bread shortage in the Costa home these days. Perhaps it is the long days of slaving away on Project Master Bath, or maybe it's just his comfort food after days of not getting enough alone time or "wifey time".... but these loaves, they ain't a-multiplyin'.... oh no, these loaves are a-disappearin' like.... well, like loaves to a hungry, hairy, Italian. Time to break out the bread maker and keep my man happy :)

Organization

After numerous obstacles with Project Master Bath, my parents decided to stay a little longer in order to accomodate the project delays. In the meantime, my mom graciously decided to help with organizing my kitchen while I was at work.... something that I've been dying to accomplish but haven't had the time since getting back from the honeymoon (what with the new job coming up, bathroom problems, everything covered in drywall dust, and trying to find "alone time" with my new hubby amidst the insanities).
Whereas I am anxious over NOTHING being in order in my new home, my poor man is struggling with one thing. Not the hallway floor now looking down into the living room below, not the showering with the spiders in the basement, but the fact that the kitchen cupboards are now switched around. How can someone deal with all the other chaos just fine and yet have such difficulty with kitchen supplies?
However, in his attempt to be sweet (and cheap) he bought me two office organizers off the clearance rack at Busy Beaver (yes, that is really the name of the store). Nevermind the fact that I already have desk organizers, I may just keep them in a closet and pull them out years down the road as a reminder that, for at least one day of his life, he made an attempt to organize.

Let the Games Begin (and end quicky)

With my family in town, part of our relaxation after a long day enjoys ice cream, playing games, and watching movies. So after Day 2 of Project Full Bath, we sat down with ice cream (I DID get my husband's favorite kind as to ease the blow of game play) and a nice board game. How were we to know that the game was going go on and on due to no one answering questions correcly?
So my poor man (refusing to go to bed, even after given permission) hung in there, choosing the oddest answers possible, and sabatoging my game play at any chance he got. Passive aggression at its finest, but I have to give the non-game-liking man credit for hanging in there for the full hour. Maybe tomorrow night I can rope him into a chick flick.....

Home Depot, AKA Take-My-Wallet-Store

In order to do our bathroom project, we needed to make a Home Depot run. Now, let it be said that I am not against Home Depot, and the 10% off for opening a charge card with them was wonderfully helpful, as were the multiple staff that aided us during our 3 hour trip. Now that is out of the way, how in the WORLD can they justify selling things for those prices?!? I just want a pretty, functional bathroom without having to sell off a few acres of our land to pay for it.
Well, my boy did well for the first 2 hours.... but after the last hour, we were all getting crabby, hungry, and tired. So naturally, he was getting feisty:) But, for the sake of his mother and my parents, he managed to keep from yelling at me as I dragged him from department to department, adding more and more items to our cart (correction: carts). And he even managed to tear apart our old bathroom with a level of decency that makes my heart proud. Good boy, Bubba, good boy. :)

Remodeling

Today my parents came into town. They're helping us install our bathroom... which should be interesting, because my husband lacks patience at times when it comes to household projects. However, my dad is the most patient person on the face of the planet. So when these two dichotomies collide, I want a front-row seat:) As one is throwing hammers, the other will be bent in prayer. My husband will be grunting and yelling at the first sign of a glitch, while my dad rubs his chin and gives a thoughtful sigh.
Perhaps I'm being too critical and jumping to conclusions too quickly. I will gladly eat my words if my husband manages to make it through this week without taking a fit... and I will recant this message immediately and re-write a proudly stated review of his ability to remain calm in the face of remodeling (and the funny part will be when I'M the one losing my mind over the entire event)! To Be Continued...

We Share Everything....

Well, I suppose there was no sense in just one of us getting sick and then passing it back and forth for weeks... we just shared the bug right away and, hopefully, got it completely out of our systems. Although I think sharing pillows during this time of ill-health is not entirely wise, I couldn't bring myself to yank my pillow back when I checked on him during his naptime... him, with his pillow between the knees and my pillow under his face, looking so peaceful as he moaned constantly due to the agony of the flu... I suppose sharing a pillow is a small sacrifice once you've already shared the flu-infested bed, bathroom, and kitchen. But let the record show that since we are both feeling significantly better, I WILL be reclaiming my territory as sole-pillow-possessor tonight!

Home Improvement

Earlier today, my husband told our neighbor that the first 2 weeks of marriage have been great, except there seems to be an awful lot of chores. Our neighbor told him to give it 20 more years and then he'll REALLY know what chores are. So, needless to say, that's all we've done this week is set up house, fix broken items, sort through old memories, and update things that have grown old with the house.
I must admit, my man has done his part with nary a sigh nor a complaint, which is amazing considering his "stomach problems" today... although I'm sure he'd love to know that I just posted that we "need a new toilet because he may have hurt it's feelings today". All in all, we have done well working together and not biting each other's heads off when things haven't gone as planned. I can wash dishes in the bathroom sink with the best of them, and he can install outside lights without chucking the screw driver into the side of the house when the screw refuses to tighten. We may not be the sitcom, but our Home Improvement is going rather well:)

Sleeping Arrangements

I'm sure that every couple that owns pets (and views them as loving children) can understand the dilemma of where the dogs sleep now that husband and wife share a bed.... some of us have been more accomodating than others of us (ahem) in letting the dogs join our bed. BUT let the record show that I am officially coming around to the idea of keeping the dogs on the floor.
Reason 1: There's the occasional dog hair (equaling an entirely new dog) that tend to float around in the sheets.
Reason 2: The dogs naturally want to cuddle up to the sweeter, nicer, more loving of the spouses (me), leaving me with 3 dogs on top of ME and HIM sleeping soundly without a care in the world.
Reason 3: This is the biggest reason of all. Last night, previously mentioned spouse put the dogs outside for their pre-bedtime "potty". Said spouse also neglected to wipe said puppy dogs' feet before they sauntered up the stairs for bed. Mr. Milo had apparently stepped in (or still had attached to him) a decent amount of DOG CRAP and then walked across MY side of the bed... ON OUR NEW EGYTIAN COTTON SHEETS!!! Husband, finding this funny, accused me of pooping the bed to get out of being in trouble for not wiping down the dogs properly.
So what does little ole' wifey do? I frantically began scrubbing the sheets (with a terribly painful tetanus shot arm... in case anyone has forgotten) while my sweet hubby sat reading his book. After sensing my frustration (or simply responding to me yelling at him), he says so innocently, "Why didn't you ask me to help?".... Really? As my half-dead arm hung limply by my side, I really needed to ask?
In all, it is safe to say that the dogs (and possibly the husband if such nonsense keeps up) will be sleeping on the floor.

Pain in the Neck....

and the finger, and the arm, and the shoulder, and the uterus! Ugh! Coral reef is, apparently, my kryptonite (although if I'm being honest, just about everything is). Because this horrible coral refuses to leave my finger, I was put on a medication that causes headache and nausea (and they're not kidding). I was also made to get a tetanus shot... no big deal, I had one when I was in high school and it was really not that bad. EXCEPT that the doctors don't tell you that tetanus shots hurt a million times worse when you're an adult AND the pain lasts for DAYS. Side effects of tetanus shots? Nausea, redness around injection site, hard lumps forming near the injection site, inability to lift injected arm, muscle pain.... and which ones do I have? ALL OF THEM.

As my terrible pain became increasingly terrible throughout the day, it was my delight to come home to find a beautiful get well gift on my desk... a hand-picked bouquet of flowers from around our farm. They are beautifully arranged in a simple vas (yes, vas. The moment requires a bit of formality as this may never happen again.). Does it make me "get well soon"? No, but it reminds me that as parts of my body begin falling off one by one, I have a wonderful husband that will be there to pick up the pieces and bury them around our farm.

Sour Day Turned Sweet

Well let me just say that the annoying day from yesterday followed me in my sleep and caught me by the heels (or fingertip) again today... the coral reef in my finger is apparently going to be with me for a while longer, despite a completely useless trip to the doctor. And we discovered several more bills that await payment that we were not planning on. So, being a HUGE PMSing female at the moment, I cried.

Sour day? You bet. I then get home and my new hubby sends me a text to go to my computer. (Curiousity rising....) There is a Word document opened, telling me how sorry he is that I'm having a bad day, and that there is a surprise for me behind my computer that will hopefully make things sweeter. (Curiosity getting slightly out of control....) And behind my computer were two of the most beautifully delicious chocolate bars (one with nuts, one without.... he was obviously symbolizing our relationship...) waiting for me. Definately made my sour day so much sweeter :)

One quick question though.... why do men make regular gutteral grunting sounds? Like a perpetual clearing of the throat? It's right up there with the moaning whenever they move or lift something, even if that something isn't heavy.... Uuugggghhhh. Does it really help? Stop grunting! Especially in the middle of the night when you get up to pee! It wakes us women up!

But I guess the chocolate covers a multitude of sins... ;)

Week One

Ok, so this is already a failed attempt at keeping a daily record of my first year of marriage. But how was I to know that Mexico (our behind-the-times honeymoon locale) would have a 15 minute internet limit per day.... PER ROOM!? AND how was I to plan for getting coral reef stuck into the middle fingertip of my right hand, rendering me impaired during my typing sessions (PS, it's still in there... the stubborn thing just simply WONT come out!). And honestly, there was no way for me to know that we would already have had a huge fight that I simply didn't want to start blogging about, making our seemingly normal relationship look flawed within the first week of our life together.

Thus, I start my yearly journal now. A week and a half into the marital trek. And how did the trek begin? With my wonderful new hubby, Pat, making a to-do list for around the house. (I was as shocked as anyone). He walked right into the bedroom and asked for a list of things for him to do. It's basically a dream come true.... but I didn't want to overload him, just in case this was a fluke. I want to test the waters on small tasks before delving into such things as crown molding and unpacking his suitcase. However, he DID bring my car in to get a new battery after my car failed to start today.

So, despite the fight-that-shall-not-be-mentioned-again incident, the first "day" has been a success. Now if only I could get him to stop dripping coffee all over the counter....