From the Depths of My Sadness…..
I haven’t stopped in for a while and there are very good reasons for this.
First off, when Mom-Mom died, it hit me very hard. Upon the phone call, I promptly got a migraine that didn’t let up until I saw her body. I wasn’t sleeping very well at all and even my sleep aids weren’t working. I was depressed, tired and very, very testy. To top it off, the funeral coincided with a dental appointment that Hubs had been waiting for since New Years. He had all but two teeth pulled and this was the day that he was going to be molded for his new plates. Now, I understand that he hasn’t eaten well and he must be starved constantly. I understand that even after this molding, there was more to be done. But this wasn’t about him. I was hurt and felt betrayed. I stood by him through the loss of both his parents and his grandparents, as well as cousins and friends. I have been blessed to have lost very few of my own dear ones. I needed him now. Finally, all the emotional and physical pain came to a climax and I let him have it. I also cried like I haven’t in a long, long time. He got the point quickly and stepped up. He was like a body guard, not letting issues or people touch me unless I invited them in. I still walked in a daze. I missed my daughter terribly. I cried while folding laundry. I couldn’t even call my best friend to tell her what I was dealing with. I began to scare myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so shattered.
At the funeral, as I saw Mom-Mom in her casket, I realized that it wasn’t her. She was tiny, frail. The woman of my memories was robust, a force of nature. Even in her old age, she was the same. It was just in the last few months that she began to waste away. I said goodbye and tucked a letter under her blanket. I turned away and never looked back. The pain in my head disappeared and I suddenly felt so tired. My entire body relaxed and I knew it was the stress and grief that had piled on me. I believe she took it away and told me not to look back.
And from the depths of my soul, the grief was lifted. It was to be replaced with joys uncounted.
My son had brought Logan with him to the funeral at my father’s request. The child came into the church and every tear was replaced with such joy! He smiled at everyone. He was held by one great aunt after another. My own cousins gathered around laughing that I had joined the ranks of ‘grandparent’ (only one other out of 27 is a grandparent) Dad had had the best idea by asking for the baby to attend. It was brilliance. The child fussed a tiny bit after an hour and was ready to be fed. My son did that and he was out for a nap. This was an opportunity to watch my son fully in the Dad-mode. Shenanigans had to work and he was on his own. I was so proud.
I got home from a long, exhausting day and went to bed at 7:30. I woke up at noon the next day.
In this past week, I have been flooded with only good, long lost memories of my grandmother. It makes me smile. I watched Logan Friday and Saturday. They came for dinner on Sunday. I watched Logan again yesterday. Lemme tell ya, a good baby is the best medicine for an aching psyche. I have laughed, and danced my days away. I got together with my best friend and we went shoe shopping. I put on a fun pair of plaid flats….not something that I would normally wear. I ran up and down the aisle of the store laughing. I decided not to spend the money, but she insisted on buying them for me, stating “Chrissy, if they can make you that happy, it would be a sin to deny it”.
She was ri– , ri—……..correct.
So…..after the upheaval and neglect, I expect to spend the day with my doggy boys, bathing and brushing them. I plan on catching up with laundry and finally COOKING!
Life goes on……..
Itchy and Scratchy
I had big plans for today.
The house has been pretty clean since Thanksgiving. I finally caught up on laundry and now I’ve gotten the Christmas spirit. I thought that maybe I’d put up some decorations and after vacuuming up the ever-present glitter and styrofoam, I’d shampoo the carpets this weekend.
Alas, dear reader, this is not to be. Lemme ‘splain….
I was curled up in my bed patiently waiting for hubs to go to work so that I could get up and get busy. The dogs were snuggled up with me, the room was dark and the blankets were toasty. Hubs called the dogs to go out and they bounded from the bed. I found their warm spots and sighed with happiness. I began to doze….
“Chris! Wake up. Bandit doesn’t have a skin irritation. The dogs have fleas!”
I’m awake now!
But they’re INDOOR dogs! They are rarely near other animals! How could this happen??
Together, Hubs and I ran down the list of “maybes”. Maybe a holiday guest brought them in on their clothes? Maybe on Hub’s work clothes? Maybe the UPS guy when he brought in that big box the other day? Or maybe…the vet’s when Mordecai got his snippage…..exactly one month ago? I tend to doubt that one because Bandit was itchy before that.
No matter. I still have to get started. I strip the bed, the couches, and gather up the dogs’ beds and pillows. I gather the throw blankets, the sneakers that have been sitting next to Bandit’s bed.
Now I have run the shoes and pillows through the dryer. The washer is full of sheets, soon to be followed by the blankets. Hubs will get some jobs started and return with flea dip, powder and spray. Of course he will leave to finish work while I deal with this mess. The laundry I was happy to be done with, has been replace by mountains of new laundry.
My body itches. Not a single bite anywhere to be found on me, but I itch nonetheless. I think of how the dogs cuddled with me in my bed, on the couches. I think of them rolling on the floor, hiding behind the couches as they played with the kongs. As I walk through the rooms of the house, all I can think of is how the dogs did “this” over “there” and now I should clean there. I am exhausted already.
Now I will still be vacuuming and shampooing my carpets.
Just not for the happy reasons.
Okay, so yesterday I was a bitch. I mean BITCH. I was annoyed at everything. All that stuff going on with Penn State was everywhere….Facebook, Twitter and television. I flicked off the television. I logged off of fb. I was on Twitter for a bit. It was nice chatting with everyone and taking my mind off of the craving that was slowly grinding away at my willpower. I walked away from the laptop and cleaned the kitchen. I came back and got some support and left again to clean the bathroom. Back and forth I went, twitter and clean, twitter and clean.
Around three-ish, I hit the craving of a lifetime. I decided to light a candle and read for a bit. It took me six matches to light that wick. I needed to go into the office for a second pack. There on the desk was an opened pack of cigarettes. I reached for it and looked inside.
I could easily take one. God knows, I wanted it bad enough. But I didn’t because of something I had read earlier on Twitter. “I gave in and smoked. I will try again tomorrow”. My smoke buddy had fallen. I had answered her comment with “We can do this!” Remembering that, I broke the smokes and threw them away.
Hubs came home a short time later. It was his bad luck to come in just as another craving struck me.
“Motherfucker! You left cigarettes here! Were you trying to tempt me or test me?!! Wait, don’t answer me! I don’t want to know. I hate you right now!”
He apologized profusely. He couldn’t say enough.
I cursed him up and down. I wouldn’t let him say a word. He asked where paperwork was. I told him to look for himself. He asked if the mail had come. I asked if he saw it on his desk. I made him chicken for dinner. I made it the one way he dislikes it, and I was happy about that.
I hated myself for acting this way. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything to deserve this. I wanted to kick my own ass.
He went out after dinner to check on something. He came home after an hour and went to his office. He took a shower and sat next to me on the couch. Just looking at him I could feel that switch flip again. All the sorrow I felt for being a bitch disappeared. I wanted a fight again.
Before I could do something I’d regret, I wanted a shower. I hoped that I could wash away the anger. But a shower meant wetting my hair and that was just one more thing that I didn’t want to deal with. I looked into the bathroom and was overcome with a sudden desire for a BATH. I began to run the water.
In my old house, I had one of those big, deep bathtubs on claw feet. I would take a bath as often as possible. Candle, music, head pillow…..the whole nine yards. When we moved, I was once again the owner of a standard tub. It wasn’t as deep. The water barely covered my boobs. My chest and shoulders get cold while the rest of me soaks. I gave up the baths in favor of showers.
Tonight, however, I wanted that bath more than anything….except a cigarette. The peach scented bubble bath I used to use had a layer of dust on it. I no longer have the bath pillow. Undeterred, I poured in the bubbles and watched them foam up.
It smelled heavenly. My body began to relax before I finished undressing. I eased myself in…..and floated away. The candle added an undertone of vanilla to the peach steam filling the room. I lay in the tub soaking, basking in the warmth. After about forty-five minutes, I was pruney enough and tried to get out of the water. No bath mat plus bubble bath equals a slippery tub. I needed help so I called for Hubs.
“I need someone to hang onto. It’s too slippery and I’m afraid that I’ll fall.”
He came into the bathroom and placed a towel on the side of the tub. I pulled myself up and began to step out of the water. He held my arm with one hand and reached for a second towel with his other hand. I was totally out of the shower and he began to gently dry my body. It felt so good. I was like putty.
“I didn’t leave those cigarettes on purpose. I’m sorry you felt like I let you down.”
“No, I’m sorry I took things out on you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was itching for a fight and you were the closest to me. I’m sorry.”
We kissed and moved into the bedroom.
Because Babygirl still reads my posts, I will spare her the details of what her parents did next. (made love…LOL)
This is the reward for thirty-one years of marriage. He can take what I dish out. Today I was a raving lunatic. This will get better. I know it will. It will pass.
But our love for each other will not pass.
I am his lunatic.
Dog Jizz in My Bed
Is there anything better on a hot summer night than nice clean, crisp, cool sheets against your freshly showered body? I think not. I love fresh sheets in the summer almost as much as I love crawling into flannel sheets fresh from the dryer in the middle of winter.
I changed the sheets the other day and I climbed in, inhaled the freshness and promptly went to sleep.
Bandit still sleeps with me. Usually he is curled somewhere near my knees and will move to my feet area later on. With the extreme heat, Mordecai has taken to joining us in the air conditioned comfort of my room. He can usually be found on top of the sheets very far at the bottom of the bed. This scenario is important to know as the story unfolds.
I was deep into my clean-sheet slumber when I was awakened by the barks of both dogs coming from inside the sheets. Snarling and barking and bumping and fumbling until Mordecai emerged and tore out of the room.
What the hell is going on??
As I started to get out of bed, Bandit emerged, clearly annoyed. I realized his anger and a wetness on my foot at the exact same time.
Mordecai had started to pee on the bed in his sleep, or marking his territory, or maybe just licking my feet. I was actually more dampish than wet, and the bed was too. I cleaned it up, covered the spot with a towel, took the dogs out and got back into bed. Mordecai went back to Babygirl’s room, and Bandit went to his crate. Since I was sleeping with a ‘helper’ I immediately crashed again.
In the morning, I had nearly forgotten about the night’s events when I heard a licking sound. Since Bandit is always licking his paws (a habit he’s had since he was a puppy) I assumed it was him. “Bandit, knock it off.” I said and suddenly Bandit was coming into the room. “What the…?” I could still hear the licking.
Mordecai had burrowed under the covers again after I got up. I flipped back the covers and there he was, licking the lipstick.
“Oh hell no!!”
Before I could say another word, he gave a little doggy whimper, his hind leg twitched and he spooged on my bed. Looking guilty, he tried to clean it up himself.
Pushing down my rising gorge (I always wondered if I would use that phrase in my writing!) I chased him from my room and changed my sheets yet again.
This I blame on the Hubs. Having Mordecai neutered was pushed back in June so we could go away for a weekend. Then it was pushed back for other expenses. Now August is totally out of the question. I swear, it will be done in September.
Until September, Hubs can change the sheets!!!
I want to say a few things so here we go with a new vintage of whine…
The charger to my laptop has given up the ghost. I am hoping that the cost to replace it is covered under my insurance with Best Buy. Now I know that more than a few of my friends have issues with them, but I have always gotten good results-once I get past the long wait in line or the time it takes to get my stuff back. Lucky for me, the charger that Babygirl uses also works on my laptop, so I will use that, for now, but will also cut back on my use. What will I do with myself?
The weather has been great and I really want to take down my curtains and wash them or sort through boxes in the basement. I wanted to wait until Babygirl was home from college to help me but to tell you the truth part of me wants to see her relax or earn money for school. Part of me is afraid of hurting my back and the biggest part of me is lazy.
I’m going to the shore with Hubs this weekend. His high school is having a gathering near where we vacation and so we will drop in there. We have taken overnight trips here or there. Most are only that-overnight-but a few have been two. This one is Friday to Monday. FOUR DAYS! I am so excited to be away from our computers, cell phones and cable tv. I used to worry about my kids when I went away, but now I worry that the dogs won’t poop for them. (Bandit avoids it) Now I’ll worry that Mordecai will eat all of Bandit’s food when he’s not looking. Damn ‘kids’……
Started shopping for my future grandSON. He already has some Philadelphia Union gear.(YAY) I am also looking at shower gifts. When did kid stuff get to be so fucking expensive? It’s a racket. The gear for humans that will barely have time to wear/use/fit in is atrociously costly. $500 and up for a crib? $300+ for a car seat that they will use for little more than a year? Holy shit!
And so, that is my wildly exciting life. What have you been up to?
Summer isn’t even official yet and already I am dealing with frizzy hair (from the humidity), underboob sweat (from the humidity) and lack of momentum ( from the humidity).
I have planted flowers in my garden. I have trained the dogs not to bark at every damned thing. I’ve done lunch with some friends and breakfast with another.
I have also fucked up.
Babygirl needed to pay $22 for a hole in her dorm screen – which wasn’t her fault and which was reported for repair repeatedly. I know we could have fought it, but it was worth the money to make it just go away. And so I wrote the check, dutifully put it into an envelope and stamped it. Hubs took it to the post office.
Yesterday, Babygirl got an email stating that they got a copy of the work order in the unsealed envelope with no check.
I have been wracking my brain trying to remember if I sealed the envelope. No, this isn’t something that I automatically do. I gag something awful if I have to lick an envelope. I know that I could have dampened a sponge or napkin to do it. I’m fucking lazy. Sue me. Normally, I hand it to Hubs and say “It’s ready to go, just seal it” Normally, Hubs double checks to see if it needs sealing. Did we both fuck up? It’s possible. So we aren’t placing blame, although I have a sinking feeling it was me.
I called the bank, mainly to put a “stop check”, but was informed that I need to close the account and reopen another and start all over.
Fuck my life.
Due to the glorious advances of modern technology, it is super-duper easy to print checks using a laser printer. They have my address which was printed on the check. They have my signature, because I signed the check. So, sometime today, I need to go to the bank – with Hubs – to do this shit. We will get a new account, new checks, and new ATM cards. I’m sure there will be new charges for this.
All because someone didn’t lick it.
Hopes and Fears
One of the responsibilities of having our own business is dealing directly with our customers. Hubs does this daily when he discusses the work they want done, when he goes over blueprints, and when he does the actual work in their offices, stores, and most importantly, in their homes. There have been so very many times when we have helped build a store, wired in the offices and then helped the owners build and wire their own homes. Relationships are built and this leads to word-of-mouth advertising and reputation-building. These things are priceless.
I hope I can be professional enough……
I, on the other hand, have become the voice of our company. I am the first voice they hear when they contact us. They tell me what they want, when they need it and depend on me to get that information to Hubs. I deal with the secretaries and wives frequently over the years, but still….we aren’t friends and we don’t really know each other.
I hope I can remember to watch my language……
On Saturday night, we are going to a dinner party being held by a client to celebrate the completion of their new home. Everyone-from contractors, carpenters, plumbers, painters, etc- has been invited. Hubs knows these people., some of them for years. I know no one.
I hope I don’t embarrass Hubs….
I try to avoid these things as much as possible. For one thing, these people are all strangers to me. For another, many of them are soccer moms. My kids are all grown. They discuss day care, camps, dance class and tutors. They get their nails done and hair highlighted and go for massages. Me? I took off my “Union blue” nail polish this morning and now I am looking at blue cuticles that I hope will fade by the weekend. I have to go shopping for a pair of dress slacks (HATE THAT SHIT!!!) and pray that I find some!
I hope I don’t spill my food or drink on myself…….
I am not looking forward to this. It is only Wednesday and I am already feeling the fear. Of what? I’m not sure. Will I have something to contribute to the conversations? Will I have anything in common with these women? If this hostess does a seating chart (yes they do stuff like that) will I sit near enough to my husband? I don’t hover or stick like glue to him, but I like that I can casually touch his sleeve in passing to feel a little more grounded.
I hope my breath don’t stink……
I didn’t even feel this level of angst when I was meeting all of my blogger friends for the first time.
I hope I don’t accidently fart…….
You Didn’t Tell Me??!?
Last Monday, Hubs came home from work with a scrape on the bridge of his nose. This is a normal thing when he is using his CPAP machine when he goes to bed. However, he hasn’t been using it lately due to the head colds that are making the rounds of our family. Babygirl happened to notice it and she asked what happened. “I don’t know. I probably just scratched it wiping spider webs out of my way.” This is a normal thing too. (So no bells and whistles are going off although, hmmm….it’s odd for someone not to know how a scrape the size of a dime got on the middle of their face…..)
And so….end of conversation….
Flash forward to Sunday night. We did our usual get-ready-for-the-week planning. You know-what jobs need to be done, what bills to pay, what appointments are coming up, etc. He put some paperwork into his office and came back out. “Hey, if we get anything from “P” Hospital, let me know.”
We have no reason to go to “P” Hospital. It isn’t local. No one’s been sick or had an emergency. Maybe for a work contract?
“Remember the scrape I got last week? Well…..”
He proceded to tell me about looking at a job. He had pulled down a ladder to the attic area and a two-by-four had slid out, hitting him on the bridge of his nose. He fell backwards and through a sheet of drywall. According to him, he was looking up one minute and waking up to smelling salts the next! The home-owner insisted that he go to the hospital to be checked out. (He had a slight concussion) The homeowner also drove him home in his work truck and parked in our driveway. (I sortof remember seeing this, but just assumed that Hubs was talking to someone that he knew who pulled into the driveway to chat.)
“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TELL ME???? YOU ASS!!! ”
He couldn’t understand why I was upset. I remembered how he didn’t want to go grocery shopping, how he stayed home on Tuesday, and how he gave Son1 a day of work. He was under doctor’s orders to take it easy for the next few days. His excuse was that he didn’t want to upset Babygirl when she asked him about the scrape. His excuse was that he didn’t want me to worry.
This is my biggest fear. More than spiders or fire, I fear that something will happen to him at work, rendering him incapacitated or God forbid-worse. Of course he didn’t want me to worry, but knowing what the problem was, I would have watched him carefully and gotten past it. Now, I find myself second-guessing the way I look at him.
How could I not see that he was keeping something from me? I kind of did, but like him, I didn’t want to push it in front of Babygirl. But why didn’t I ask him again later? When he stayed home from work, he claimed a sinus headache. Since I’ve been battling one for weeks, I accepted that. But why didn’t I say more when he wouldn’t take anything for it?
I stayed up the other night wondering if I have become complacent in our relationship. I always thought that I never take him for granted. Well, maybe I do. Maybe I just need to tweak my game. In the past few days, I look into his eyes more. I find myself listening ‘harder’ when he talks to me. When he sneaks up behind me to kiss my neck, I let it linger, even though I’m cooking or folding laundry.
I always considered the ‘little things’ to be important. Now I know that the ‘tiny things’ are important too.
Under The Radar
Last week I fell off the face of the earth.
After bowling on Monday, I felt fabulous. I can’t tell you how many times Hubs looked at me and just said “What?”. It appears that I was grinning from ear to ear over the fact that I was pain free after a day of lifting, twisting and throwing the heavy balls around. Tuesday, I was kind of tired in a sleepy kind of way. And Wednesday, I had a followup visit with my doctor, in which I smiled some more about the new meds. But I coughed while in the chair and he looked into my ears, nose and throat.
“You have a sinus infection.”
“Are you sure? I feel okay, aside from a little sleepy.”
“Nope. You have a post nasal drip, redness in the nose and throat, and I heard a little something in your chest.”
He gave me a prescription and sent me on my way. It was too late to fill it, so we decided that Hubs would pick it up for me the next day. I went home and did a few things. By eight o’clock, I was dead tired. By nine, my throat hurt, and by ten, I had a temperature of 101* and the chills. The chills stuck around for the day and the fever for two more. When I woke up, I almost cried. My head hurt so bad that a cough felt like a bomb exploding. My humidifier once again became my best friend. Even the neti pot did nothing to move the gunk out of my head.
I went under the radar and locked myself away from humanity.
I stayed in my bed. I took my medicine on time. I blew my nose and coughed up lungs. I tried eating, but what’s the use? I can’t taste a damn thing. When the chills got to be too much for me, Bandit pressed himself tight against my thigh. Thank God because, my skin hurt to touch and the thought of a hot shower made me cringe. After four days, I got up, ate and showered. I changed the sheets and put on some real clothes and a spot of makeup.
I feel human again.
I am back to doing laundry. I went outside for a walk yesterday. I even cooked dinner once more. I still can’t taste anything and every morning I wake up with a glorious mouth of slime and cotton all over my teeth and gums, but I can breathe once more and I can cough without peeing my pants. (Progress)
Now my son has it. Now my Hubs is fighting it. Babygirl is coming home tomorrow.
I am bleaching my house.
For our 20th anniversary, Hubs paid for me to get a tattoo. It was something that I wanted for many years before it became the fashion statement for those outside of gangs. I knew what I wanted and where, so after many discussions, he agreed and paid for this:
This is Kokopelli. When I chose this, Babygirl was with me. There was this one and another that was blue. My intention was to get the other on the opposite calf. This most likely will not happen. You see, Hubs has regretted ever paying for this. He simply isn’t happy seeing it. I give not one shit. I love it so much and I find myself admiring it or stroking it unconciously. It makes me happy.
Ever since she was a kid, Babygirl has wanted one just like mine. We have discussed it both with Hubs and without. This weekend, away at college, she has done what many college kids do and got a tattoo. This one-the mate to mine:
When she texted me her intention, I did not forbid her nor did I encourage. I know that she is over 18. I also know that, like me, she has given this alot of thought. I did however, inform her that I will not break the news to her dad. In fact, I told her that I will deny all knowledge of it. Chickenshit move? You betcha. But she is ‘Daddy’s little girl’ and he will get over it. I am the wife and I would hear about it every single time he sees it.
She will not post this on Facebook even though she is dying to. Her aunts and cousins are all there. Her brothers friends are all there. Any one of this vast group of people could make a harmless remark to me or to Hubs. She wants to wait and tell him herself in person.
I just want to tell her publicly……I love it. It is beautiful. I looks joyful.
It is everything that you are too.