The Six Principles of Embarrassing Your Kid...

So, the other week we were at an event for my daughter's karate school. All of the students were lined up on the grass, awaiting their turn to test in front of the judges. My husband and I had pulled up lawn chairs to the edge of the area, and as usual, got ourselves into a really silly mood. Just like the kids in the back of the class in high school, Craig and I like to sit on the outskirts of situations and make fun of those that are participating. (you see.. because we are way too cool to join in on anything...) So the instructor is talking to the kids and asking them questions.

He says something like..."ok, kids. What are the six symbols on our flag? Can you tell me what they mean?"

Silence. The kids just stare at him.

I whisper to Craig. "Do you know?"

He starts to tick words off on his fingers, with a completely straight face.
"Discipline, Strength, Kickin' Ass, Taking Names, Cigarettes and Cake."

I, of course, snort like a pig and burst into laughter. And then continue laughing until I choke and start hacking like a 70 year old smoker with emphysema. All of the children turn in my direction and wonder who's crazy ass mother I am. Roslyn, of course, did not even turn around. But I did see her sigh and shake her head.

Poor kid. It's only gonna get worse from here.

Random Post Redux #3

I had this scheduled for Saturday... I don't know why it didn't show up. Sorry, everyone! Once again, I'm hosting a Random Post Redux. Post a random, previously-used entry on your blog and give it another chance at stardom!! Link up with Mr. Linky at the bottom and we'll follow ya over to your site! Here is mine!

Previously posted on April 12, 2009

The Patron Saint of Irritated Husbands



My husband and I will be celebrating our ten year wedding anniversary next month. I am the first to admit that I am difficult to live with. I am shocked that he has put up with me for that long. The following are just a few examples of his miraculous patience.

** We had not been dating too long when my parents invited him over for dinner. My brother and I decided to class up the dinner with a fart machine under my chair. We waited until a silent moment and then... rip. My brother and I were laughing so hard he choked on his chicken parm and had to leave the table to puke in the bathroom. Of course, he continued to hit the fart remote while I sat and snorted like an idiot. Hubby just kind of giggled a little and turned beet red.

** The other week we were sitting in a parking lot trying to find directions to a new restaurant. I spot two birds out my window.
ME: Do birds have sex?
HIM: Yes (still typing on the GPS)
ME: I've never seen them do it.
HIM: (he sighs..) Well, the do. Maybe they're just private about it.
ME: Well, then where are their little wieners?
HIM: (slamming shut the GPS) Kel, they have wieners and they have sex... OK??
ME: Geez... well, excuse me, Mr. Know-it-all.

** We were feeding the geese at the park with our daughter. One goose dips her neck in the green water and guzzles some down.
ME: ewww! They actually drink that water?
HIM: (rolls his eyes.) No, they don't. They have bottled water shipped in (walks away, shaking his head.)

** I have this thing where if someone tells me NOT to do something, I have to do it. I don't know why. I've always been that way. One winter morning,when we were living in our first apartment, Craig went out to warm up his car. We had had an ice storm the night before. He came back in to get something to scrape the ice off his car. I offered to help. He told me not to go out there. The parking lot was covered in ice. That's where he made his mistake. A few minutes later he goes back out. I follow him, with my trusty spatula, ready to show him how it's done. I get to the front step and he says. "Kel! I said don't come out here! It's too dangerous!"

I get very snotty with him. "Don't you tell me what to do!" , and I step off the bottom step. "I wanna heeeeeeeellllllpp". And then I fall. I slide across the entire parking lot, on my ass. I make eye contact with him as I glide past. He just sighs. I finally come to a rest at the other end of the lot. I try to get up. Because I was stupid enough to put on slippers before I went out, I now find it impossible to stand up. And I have to wait there, in my nightgown, halfway across the apartment complex, for him to come help me get up. After five minutes of my whining, he comes over. He doesn't say a word, just shakes his head.

** A few years ago we were watching the Olympics on TV. I say to him. "I bet I can still do a handstand."
He looks over at me. "No. Please, don't."
Now he did it.
"Don't tell me what to do." I go to the middle of the room and do the coolest and most awesome handstand that has ever been done in the history of handstands. He doesn't say anything. "You didn't even look!" I yell at him.

"Yes, I did. It was cool. You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself. Now, could you move?" He looks past me to the TV.

Oh, no he didn't. I put my hands on my hips. "No! You didn't look! Watch!!" And this time I do another super-cool, spectacular handstand.. except this time, I fall over backwards and break my toe. To this day, I look at my crooked second toe and blame him.

** When I was pregnant I told him I was dead set against getting an epidural.
HIM: Why don't you want an epidural? It's gonna hurt, Kel."
ME: I'm not gettin' one. I don't want my legs all numb.
HIM: What? Why not?
Me: Because! What if I need my legs?
HIM: For what?
ME: I don't know!! What if I something happens and I need to run out of there or something??
HIM: (sighs and shakes his head, again.) Kel, where do you think you are going to need to go so badly when there is a baby hanging out of you?
ME: I don't know... but I sure won't be able to get there with jelly legs, will I?
HIM: Point taken.

So, there you have it. Just a few reasons that my husband should be appointed to sainthood. The fact that he hasn't killed me yet is unbelievable.

A New Name, A New Me?

So, as you can clearly see.. I've changed up my blog. I went from Girl in the Glasses to A Hesitant Housewife. I think it suits me better. Yes, I still have the glasses.

I will still be featuring "Would You Rather Wednesdays?" and "Question of the Weak" and "Hot Seat".. but I'm going to be adding a few new things as well.

It's gonna be a bumpy ride for awhile as I get the kinks out, but I think you'll like the changes when I'm done. So, hang tight! There's more to come!

The Patron Saint of Irritated Husbands...

My husband and I will be celebrating our ten year wedding anniversary next month. I am the first to admit that I am difficult to live with. I am shocked that he has put up with me for that long. The following are just a few examples of his miraculous patience.

** We had not been dating too long when my parents invited him over for dinner. My brother and I decided to class up the dinner with a fart machine under my chair. We waited until a silent moment and then... rip. My brother and I were laughing so hard he choked on his chicken parm and had to leave the table to puke in the bathroom. Of course, he continued to hit the fart remote while I sat and snorted like an idiot. Hubby just kind of giggled a little and turned beet red.

** The other week we were sitting in a parking lot trying to find directions to a new restaurant. I spot two birds out my window.
ME: Do birds have sex?
HIM: Yes (still typing on the GPS)
ME: I've never seen them do it.
HIM: (he sighs..) Well, the do. Maybe they're just private about it.
ME: Well, then where are their little wieners?
HIM: (slamming shut the GPS) Kel, they have wieners and they have sex... OK??
ME: Geez... well, excuse me, Mr. Know-it-all.

** We were feeding the geese at the park with our daughter. One goose dips her neck in the green water and guzzles some down.
ME: ewww! They actually drink that water?
HIM: (rolls his eyes.) No, they don't. They have bottled water shipped in (walks away, shaking his head.)

** I have this thing where if someone tells me NOT to do something, I have to do it. I don't know why. I've always been that way. One winter morning,when we were living in our first apartment, Craig went out to warm up his car. We had had an ice storm the night before. He came back in to get something to scrape the ice off his car. I offered to help. He told me not to go out there. The parking lot was covered in ice. That's where he made his mistake. A few minutes later he goes back out. I follow him, with my trusty spatula, ready to show him how it's done. I get to the front step and he says. "Kel! I said don't come out here! It's too dangerous!"

I get very snotty with him. "Don't you tell me what to do!" , and I step off the bottom step. "I wanna heeeeeeeellllllpp". And then I fall. I slide across the entire parking lot, on my ass. I make eye contact with him as I glide past. He just sighs. I finally come to a rest at the other end of the lot. I try to get up. Because I was stupid enough to put on slippers before I went out, I now find it impossible to stand up. And I have to wait there, in my nightgown, halfway across the apartment complex, for him to come help me get up. After five minutes of my whining, he comes over. He doesn't say a word, just shakes his head.

** A few years ago we were watching the Olympics on TV. I say to him. "I bet I can still do a handstand."
He looks over at me. "No. Please, don't."
Now he did it.
"Don't tell me what to do." I go to the middle of the room and do the coolest and most awesome handstand that has ever been done in the history of handstands. He doesn't say anything. "You didn't even look!" I yell at him.

"Yes, I did. It was cool. You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself. Now, could you move?" He looks past me to the TV.

Oh, no he didn't. I put my hands on my hips. "No! You didn't look! Watch!!" And this time I do another super-cool, spectacular handstand.. except this time, I fall over backwards and break my toe. To this day, I look at my crooked second toe and blame him.

** When I was pregnant I told him I was dead set against getting an epidural.
HIM: Why don't you want an epidural? It's gonna hurt, Kel."
ME: I'm not gettin' one. I don't want my legs all numb.
HIM: What? Why not?
Me: Because! What if I need my legs?
HIM: For what?
ME: I don't know!! What if I something happens and I need to run out of there or something??
HIM: (sighs and shakes his head, again.) Kel, where do you think you are going to need to go so badly when there is a baby hanging out of you?
ME: I don't know... but I sure won't be able to get there with jelly legs, will I?
HIM: Point taken.

So, there you have it. Just a few reasons that my husband should be appointed to sainthood. The fact that he hasn't killed me yet is unbelievable.

**I swear, I am not stupid, I just have no filter. I say what I am thinking, and usually it makes no sense.

Here's where I get complicated..

I am all kinds of pissed off tonight.. and really what better way to get back to blogging, than with a rant?

I don't even know who I am more mad at, me or my husband. Here's the story: Ros has been sick since last Wednesday. Longer than that actually. For a week before that she was sleeping like 4 hours a night due to her allergies and post nasal drip. So of course, who stays up with her? Me. Fine, I get that. I work from home, I set my own hours. He needs his sleep. Whatever.. But last time I checked, I do too. The doc put her on antibiotics last Wednesday. It was such a strong dosage.. she got sick. I mean, diarrhea sick.. it was awful. It was pouring out of the kid. We went through a twenty pack of underwear in a day. Every time she coughed she leaked. She crapped herself in her sleep. It was awful. So Friday night, I was up with her all night. Does husband get up? No. What does he do Saturday morning? Goes for a four hour bike ride. I let it go, it was his birthday. Saturday night she is puking her brains out and crapping her pants all night. Does he get up and help me? No. He swears he doesn't hear her..but really he has to. I am in and out of the bedroom getting underwear all night. (her dresser is in our room). She continues to be sick until yesterday when she spikes a fever and she goes to the ER. When we get home and the kid is freaking comatose on the couch with fever, shivering, what does he do? He spends the evening getting his bike ready for today's ride. Are you effing kidding me?? God dammit...

Now, here is the problem. I am sure you are all thinking right now.. "what a jerk. I would kill him." But its not that simple. Because he asked me if he should go. And what do I say? I say "whatever. It looks like you're getting ready to go anyway." and "I'm not gonna be the mean guy and say no." I never say "please stay. I need help". But I also don't say, "yeah, you should go." You know why? Because I want him to want to help. (I sound like Jennifer Anniston in The Break-up) But it's true. I want him to think, "Wow. Kel's had a rough time with all this lately. She looks exhausted. Maybe she's gettin' sick of cleaning puke and scrubbing poo out of underwear." I want him to love me enough to want to make it better for me. I want him to think that I am good mom and I am killing myself with worry and I need a break. I don't want to have to tell him to feel that way. I want him to just feel it. I want him to consider that maybe Roslyn would love for her dad to spontaneously grab a book off the shelf and read to her to give a me rest.

But again, I'm mad at myself because this is the way it's always been. I always keep my mouth shut about it, and seethe over things. He's not a mind reader. And maybe I seem like I don't need help.

Now I am gonna regret this post in the morning. Because my husband is not a jerk. He is a caring father and husband. I love him with all my heart. But right now, I am just feeling a little neglected. Right now, I am upset. Right now, I am beyond exhausted. And right now, I am really wishing that he could just read my mind and know that I don't always say what I mean. That sometimes I just want him to want to help, whether I let him or not. Which I probably wont, because I don't want him to be tired for work and I don't want him to get sick.

Hey, I never said I wasn't complicated.