My MIL prays for me. Alot. Today Steve called her for mother's day and after half-listening to their conversation, I reminded him to tell her about his Captain's grad and then started to read the next chapter in our book. He hung up with her and right after I told him "I have to read you this chapter. It's about her years in Human Resources and it's hilarious." He told me: "My mom says she's praying for us and loves us." She never talks to me, so I don't know that she loves us is actually a true statement.
I just smiled, saying "Well that makes this rather awkward" and started reading aloud about penises and vaginas and enormous labias. (No, I'm not making this up.) And we chucked together.
After I finished the chapter, we went back up stairs and I asked "What exactly is your mother praying for?" Because Yea, I can get way off-topic alot and immediately go back to one that has my mind questioning everything. Steve replied, "Probably for us to be happy and successful." I shook my head and shrugged, "No probably that I won't take you to hell with me." Steve just laughed. This makes me know it's true.
You see, while I'm religious in the sense that I was raised in a semi-religious house and believe in certain things but question alot of those same things, thinking that if God really loves me, he'll know that I'm just a curious mind and that I'm intriqued with things I don't understand. And no, I don't think that believing in a book written by guys that lived 400-500 years after Jesus did is entirely sensible. Sorry. But I do think that it's full of really great stories and proves some valid points like if a giant attacks you, use a sling-shot and hit him in the head with stones. He'll probably fall and hurt himself. And remember, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Just saying.
Anyways, my MIL doesn't really talk to me. I mean she will if I answer my husband's phone but I try to avoid doing that because I know she feels uncomfortable too. Another reason is because I don't really like hearing "I'll pray for you." Since I am more than perfectly capable of praying for myself, but I never say that to her. I figure that would be rude. And I hate being rude.
So instead I send up birthday cards for all the family members of his family and send her books that I know she'd like: Biblical Triva, Bedtime blessings, etc. And hope that one day, I can secretly get her drunk so we can have a fair conversation. Because you can't be fanatical when you are drunk. Well you can, but honestly, it wouldn't make alot of sense. My husband says I'm not allowed to do that.
Oh I have to go because I'm having my husband prepare the potatoes for dinner. I'm making german food because I don't want anything else and we're too broke at the moment to go to the german restaurant I like. Yea.
Showing posts with label Let's Pretend this Never Happened. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Let's Pretend this Never Happened. Show all posts
Mothers Day... I think
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| Photo done by Ryan Milling Photography |
Mother's Day.
I love and hate this day. It's a day where I get to remember how much my own mother sucks and a day where my kids spend five minutes giving me love and showing me how much they care about me in a card that they colored all over of before running around screaming about this or that.
It's also a day where I can say "I'm sleeping in and if you wake me, I get to stab you" to my husband.
Well, this morning I managed to half sleep in until eleven a.m. And by half-sleep in, I mean first, I was woken by my dog jumping on me in bed because my son apparently thought it would be a great idea to let the dog out of the garage to wish me a happy mother's day (thanks alot Jax, I really appreciate the 7am wake up with a dog punching me in the stomach)... Then I woke up to my dog barked right outside my window (Who put him out back, husband??). After that, my husband tried to help by giving the kids a morning bath, unfortunately the kids bathroom is right next to my bedroom and the water runs loudly (Plus they scream alot... happy screams, but screams that are loud and even though they are giggly, make me wish I could be deaf at will) And the dog started barking again. So I got up, pretending that I wasn't up until 3 am with insomnia for the... fifth time this week, and smiling because apparently that's the look my kids wanted to see: bedhead with a ruffled mother and bags under her eyes, smiling about her exhaustion.
I then got welcomed by my daughter slipping on a puddle of water my son had spread by running naked and wet through the house to find Daddy to put underwear on him, resulting in Lily screaming. Then they finally all got dressed and gave me cards. I smiled as I read them all aloud for my kids' benefit, hugged them both and told them how much I loved them. Two minutes later, my day was all but forgotten when my son handed me a fruit-roll up to open and my daughter insisted on turning on her v-tech laptop, which plays the world's most annoying sounds as my husband went downstairs to his man-cave (aka the garage) to play his video game.
I ended up going downstairs too to call my Gram (voicemail) and the kids' Granny, my ex's grandmother, and the great grandmother of my kids, who I talked to for about 10 minutes, letting the kids wish her a happy mother's day too and finally hanging up after again feeling vindicated that I'm a much better family member than her own grandson. He's kind of an asshole and I am glad for that. I always smell like a rose next to him.
I went back upstairs, after seeing that my husband would rather play video games then hang out with me, so I put on Charmed, a show that I have seen every episode of multiple times. (Sidenote: I would love to be a witch. Especially with the powers of Piper to freeze and blow shit up. I just don't know that I'd necessarily be a good witch. I would hope so but I think I'd become corrupt because let's face it: when you can rob a bank and no one ever knows you were there, who wouldn't? Or become a vigilante killer who goes after killers and rapists like an even badder ass than Dexter. Oooo, or become a very well paid assassin... Or all three. Yes, definitely all three.)
After a while, I went downstairs again with "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" and started reading it outloud to my husband again. He and I laughed at a few parts and he at one point said "I'm so glad your family doesn't have Baby Bobcats" at which point I reminded him that one of my great-Uncles actually did have (at one point) a Cougar that he'd raised from the time the big-cat was a baby. He smiled, warily and commented that "well, he doesn't still have it." I agreed, although the truth is, I don't know.
After a few chapters I gave up reading, deciding that I'd rather go upstairs and write this. I know it's boring because I am too tired to care. I do have to admit though, I'm mad that all the pizza is gone. Now I have to get off my lazy-ass and go make something to eat or just go hungry. (I've chosen to go hungry. I am far too lazy to do anything today, including cooking, laundry and cleaning.) Also, I really don't feel like talking to my in-laws. Although I should, because my BIL just emailed me. (I don't mind them but I feel that they require energy and my utmost attention. Also I don't feel like listening to his teasing or other things. So I'm not answering. Just not up to it. It's technically MY day so I shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable today. Besides, I have to go give Steve his cell phone to call his mother, who doesn't like me and has only talked to me... two or three times tops in the past six months, but talks to Steve at least two to three times a month. Yea, she and I have a good bond... and in case you were wondering, yes that is sarcasm...)
And what's with little boys being so fearless. I would kill for my son to be afraid of something, but the little turd is brave. Like superhero brave... Or the kind of brave that just doesn't understand pain or death yet, that is a possibility. Jax would jump out his bedroom window if I didn't freak out by him even opening his bedroom window... and he seems rather put out that he gets yelled at for that. Apparently, I overreact in his 3 almost 4 year old mind. BLAH!
And my daughter, she could be braver. But nope, she's even afraid of our cat attacking her, even though Luna doesn't use claws because Luna is just aggressive, not mean. Come on, Kid! It's not that scary!!
I think when I bring my husband his phone to call his dear-old-mom, I'm going to hit him and not tell him why. Because deep down inside, I know he'll understand it as a thanks for making-me-be-the-parent-even-though-it-is-my-parent-holiday-and-you-promised-me-my-day-off-not-to-play-video-games-on-your-laptop-which-will-get-thrown-away-if-you-don't-do-it-soon hit. And he'll know he's deserved it and he'll try to make them be less Mommy-Mommy-help-me-with-this and be more like Daddy-Daddy-wipe-my-butt, which Jax will do soon. Since he usually has too poop around 4 in the afternoon and it's almost 3 now. And his mom will be happy to hear his voice.
That is all for now... SHHHHH... DONT TELL
What if I told you NOT to tell?
Welcome to my newest blog. I just thought it was time I actually wrote what I thought. So... since this is the first blog entry for this blog... it should be an introduction, don't you think? Well, I don't care what you think. You can click that little X at the top right of the page or that arrow that indicates back.
Still here? Awesome. I was worried for a minute there! Who am I? Well to be honest, I have no fucking clue. I mean I know my name and facts about myself but who you are is more than that, it's all of that and all of the annoying habits that we accumulate over the years, all your traumas and all your successes and all those things you forgot about. So let me just tell you a little about myself instead.
I am Leah. I am a twenty-four year old Army wife and mother of two. For some of you going "oh no! another army wife bitching about how good she has it" let me stop you. I am not your typical army wife and I wouldn't even say most army wives are the so-called typical wives that we hear about and they aren't like that show Army Wives because no one has houses that nice or has most of the things you see on that show. I love to read. And when I say I love to read, I really mean I LOVE to read. I am obsessed with books and building a book collection that rivals libraries. At this point, not including the books I've downloaded to my kindle and only counting real books, I'd say I own somewhere around 500 books. And yes, I've read them all. Some of them more than once and some of those, countless times. I also love watching TV, mostly odd sitcoms that get canceled (damn those huge tv corporations that don't see that the tv shows with the least viewings are some of the best, cheesy rainy day shows) and dramas that have nothing to do with reality. I also run a household and have two pets that are a constant pain in the ass (and of course, loved as much as children! Trust me, I have kids. I would know!) I tend to write weird things that never get published online because I originally thought that my thoughts were proof that I wasn't sane but I've come to realize that maybe they are... or maybe that's just what I want to tell myself now that I'm going to be sharing them with the world.
Let's see, I also have a husband. See that guy on the left side of my page? Yep, that's my husband. His name is Steve. Or Dork, Husband, Werewolf guy I married, or any of the number of other titles I call him. He's smart, like super smart. He's got one Master's degree and another is about to be completed within a year. Also, he's kind of a Captain in the Army. (I also think he's insane because he married me, but he loves me for some strange reason I'll never understand, but appreciate.) He's also a huge source of laughs for me. I enjoy when I get to tell him about my day and he just smiles at how enthusiastic I am about it. I also enjoy beating him up. See, he's super tall, well not super, but tall. At six foot three inches, he stands one foot and one inch taller than me... Or thirteen inches taller than me. Yes, I am making you do math to figure out how tall I am... or rather short I am. Because he's so much bigger than me, I'm allowed to beat him up. It's the law. And if it isn't, it should be.
We have two kids. Lily, our five year old daughter, and Jax, our three-almost-four year old son. These two are spectacularly cute, amazingly annoying and terrifically funny. Seriously, they always make me laugh and sometimes the only reason I haven't thrown them in the garbage (other than it being illegal and I do love them to bits, of course) is because they are so adorable. I can be raging mad at them and they turn it around by giving me kisses or say something that is so weird and off-the-wall that I have to laugh. Thus their survival to this age.
Our pets are a cat and a dog. They are a long story but that's for another time (because my arm is cramping from writing this and I know that I still haven't even covered what I want to...)
I started this new blog because of a few reasons. I know that I've been blogging for what seems like the majority of my life (well, since Xanga and we all know how long ago that was, ummm 9th grade?! So 2001-2, so about 10 years.) and I feel like I've always been lacking something. Well today, I have thought about it and I'm going to be creating a new blog, importing all my old blog entries and starting over with the design and all that because... well I want to.
Anyways, maybe part of this happened because of Jenny Lawson. You don't know who Jenny Lawson is??? She is, without a doubt, my new hero. Steve says that I'm obsessed but since I don't know her personally, I'll just have to go with very, very interested in her work, not her. I don't know her, so I'm not a psycho-stalker. You have to know someone in person to be a psycho-stalker. But I digress. What is important is why Jenny Lawson has become a common name my wonderfully accepting husband can recognize.
I just bought "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" by Jenny Lawson. She is the author of that wonderfully funny and weirdly cute blog called the Bloggess. Well, I've only managed to get through the first three chapters so far, because I started reading it outloud to my husband. And now it's become a bonding experience. Kind of like "Look at how fucked up this woman lived and see, I'm not so weird now because there's someone else who thinks the Zombie Apocolypse is no laughing matter." Well, he finds it more off-the-wall funny than relatable like I do, but either way, me reading to him like he was a blind, old man in a retirement home is actually a very beautiful bonding moment. Anyways, the book. I love it. I think it's actually seeping into my head and making me think that my every thought is worth sharing. Like, this morning I tried to pinch my husband's nipple and I did but I pulled and he swore that I would pull it off but I told him they sell replacements online, and the Army doesn't care if he's one nipple short anyways. But again, I digress. Read "Let's Pretend This Never Happened," By Jenny Lawson aka the Bloggess. Super funny and totally going to offend. :)
Anyways, I have become completely obsessed with sharing my every thought with my husband, who I'm thinking is now afraid to be alone with me, judging by the fact that while I'm upstairs blogging, he's down in the garage, gaming on his laptop, hiding from me. Not that this is new. Actually, it's not new at all. He's always down there when he has time off work, unless I ask him to hang out with me. But still, I think now he's truly worried about my sanity or his safety or perhaps both. I can't be sure.
Also today, I made a discovery: Apparently, my dog likes candy. But not just the candy, the wrappers too. I found this out by discovering a pile of poop with candy wrappers inside of the poop. I'm a little jealous. I can't process wrappers quite so well. I'm not even upset by him stealing my pez or my chocolate. At first I was worried that the chocolate would kill him but then he took a big dump in the side yard, so I knew he'd be fine. I am jealous that while he can have all this candy and the wrappers too, he doesn't seem to gain weight or have a problem with choking or digesting said wrappers. Unfair if you ask me. I know you didn't, that's why I'm sharing!!!
I'm also doing laundry today, because that's what Moms are for, although I think it is kind of pointless. I mean, not the washing or drying of the laundry, that has a point. It becomes clean and wearable again without getting weird looks in public or having people whisper behind your back about how you smell funny or having Child Welfare called on you because your kids are in clothes that have never be washed. Always wash your clothes. That's important. It's the other thing that's pointless.I hate putting away laundry. I know we're all going to wear it again so it seems a waste to fold it and put it away. Especially since I'll pull out half of everything I own in a day to find something to wear and then just leave it there until it gets washed again or I find something I want to wear a few days from the first day I pull it out. And my kids always end up pulling most everything they own out while showing me what they want to wear, which makes me crazy because then I either have to put it away again, or just pretend it got worn and throw it in a laundry basket. I will not admit to what I actually do.
Anyways, I'm folding laundry and every member of my household has more underwear in this load than I do. Which means, my family wears underwear every day. But I'm curious about other people. I'm curious whether other people wear underwear. I do and I don't. It depends on what I'm wearing. If I wear a skirt or dress, yes, I do. But if I put on a pair of jeans, I don't. I think this is economical. Like you save money washing underwear and also, this means you need less pairs between laundry days. Also, I don't like panty-lines. But it's ok sometimes, like if I'm wearing short-shorts, then I like to say "yes, my jean shorts look like boys underwear but really, I am wearing a real pair underneath." So, this leaves me curious of whether other people wear underwear. And I don't know why this is what I'm curious about today. I guess I just don't care enough to know who you will vote for or if you are eating healthy or if that one little kid your friend knows finally got that marble unstuck from his nose. No, my concern is your underwear wearing cycles.
But that's all I have to say for now....
Oh wait, it's not. I have something else.
I bought the world's best 99 cent kindle book:::::::
"Bedtime Stories for Children You Hate"... I might cry from being so excited to read these to my husband as we go to sleep... I may also read these to my kids when they are bad or make me crazy... (Ok, mostly kidding about reading them to my children, I hate when they have nightmares. I have to get up and make them feel better and then I'm just sooo tired the next day so I better skip reading these to them and just focus on giving my husband nightmares. He can comfort himself, or if not, at least I don't have to get up.)
Anyways, that's it for my first blog of a new blog... Shhhh, don't tell.
Still here? Awesome. I was worried for a minute there! Who am I? Well to be honest, I have no fucking clue. I mean I know my name and facts about myself but who you are is more than that, it's all of that and all of the annoying habits that we accumulate over the years, all your traumas and all your successes and all those things you forgot about. So let me just tell you a little about myself instead.
I am Leah. I am a twenty-four year old Army wife and mother of two. For some of you going "oh no! another army wife bitching about how good she has it" let me stop you. I am not your typical army wife and I wouldn't even say most army wives are the so-called typical wives that we hear about and they aren't like that show Army Wives because no one has houses that nice or has most of the things you see on that show. I love to read. And when I say I love to read, I really mean I LOVE to read. I am obsessed with books and building a book collection that rivals libraries. At this point, not including the books I've downloaded to my kindle and only counting real books, I'd say I own somewhere around 500 books. And yes, I've read them all. Some of them more than once and some of those, countless times. I also love watching TV, mostly odd sitcoms that get canceled (damn those huge tv corporations that don't see that the tv shows with the least viewings are some of the best, cheesy rainy day shows) and dramas that have nothing to do with reality. I also run a household and have two pets that are a constant pain in the ass (and of course, loved as much as children! Trust me, I have kids. I would know!) I tend to write weird things that never get published online because I originally thought that my thoughts were proof that I wasn't sane but I've come to realize that maybe they are... or maybe that's just what I want to tell myself now that I'm going to be sharing them with the world.
Let's see, I also have a husband. See that guy on the left side of my page? Yep, that's my husband. His name is Steve. Or Dork, Husband, Werewolf guy I married, or any of the number of other titles I call him. He's smart, like super smart. He's got one Master's degree and another is about to be completed within a year. Also, he's kind of a Captain in the Army. (I also think he's insane because he married me, but he loves me for some strange reason I'll never understand, but appreciate.) He's also a huge source of laughs for me. I enjoy when I get to tell him about my day and he just smiles at how enthusiastic I am about it. I also enjoy beating him up. See, he's super tall, well not super, but tall. At six foot three inches, he stands one foot and one inch taller than me... Or thirteen inches taller than me. Yes, I am making you do math to figure out how tall I am... or rather short I am. Because he's so much bigger than me, I'm allowed to beat him up. It's the law. And if it isn't, it should be.
We have two kids. Lily, our five year old daughter, and Jax, our three-almost-four year old son. These two are spectacularly cute, amazingly annoying and terrifically funny. Seriously, they always make me laugh and sometimes the only reason I haven't thrown them in the garbage (other than it being illegal and I do love them to bits, of course) is because they are so adorable. I can be raging mad at them and they turn it around by giving me kisses or say something that is so weird and off-the-wall that I have to laugh. Thus their survival to this age.
Our pets are a cat and a dog. They are a long story but that's for another time (because my arm is cramping from writing this and I know that I still haven't even covered what I want to...)
I started this new blog because of a few reasons. I know that I've been blogging for what seems like the majority of my life (well, since Xanga and we all know how long ago that was, ummm 9th grade?! So 2001-2, so about 10 years.) and I feel like I've always been lacking something. Well today, I have thought about it and I'm going to be creating a new blog, importing all my old blog entries and starting over with the design and all that because... well I want to.
Anyways, maybe part of this happened because of Jenny Lawson. You don't know who Jenny Lawson is??? She is, without a doubt, my new hero. Steve says that I'm obsessed but since I don't know her personally, I'll just have to go with very, very interested in her work, not her. I don't know her, so I'm not a psycho-stalker. You have to know someone in person to be a psycho-stalker. But I digress. What is important is why Jenny Lawson has become a common name my wonderfully accepting husband can recognize.
I just bought "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" by Jenny Lawson. She is the author of that wonderfully funny and weirdly cute blog called the Bloggess. Well, I've only managed to get through the first three chapters so far, because I started reading it outloud to my husband. And now it's become a bonding experience. Kind of like "Look at how fucked up this woman lived and see, I'm not so weird now because there's someone else who thinks the Zombie Apocolypse is no laughing matter." Well, he finds it more off-the-wall funny than relatable like I do, but either way, me reading to him like he was a blind, old man in a retirement home is actually a very beautiful bonding moment. Anyways, the book. I love it. I think it's actually seeping into my head and making me think that my every thought is worth sharing. Like, this morning I tried to pinch my husband's nipple and I did but I pulled and he swore that I would pull it off but I told him they sell replacements online, and the Army doesn't care if he's one nipple short anyways. But again, I digress. Read "Let's Pretend This Never Happened," By Jenny Lawson aka the Bloggess. Super funny and totally going to offend. :)
Anyways, I have become completely obsessed with sharing my every thought with my husband, who I'm thinking is now afraid to be alone with me, judging by the fact that while I'm upstairs blogging, he's down in the garage, gaming on his laptop, hiding from me. Not that this is new. Actually, it's not new at all. He's always down there when he has time off work, unless I ask him to hang out with me. But still, I think now he's truly worried about my sanity or his safety or perhaps both. I can't be sure.
Also today, I made a discovery: Apparently, my dog likes candy. But not just the candy, the wrappers too. I found this out by discovering a pile of poop with candy wrappers inside of the poop. I'm a little jealous. I can't process wrappers quite so well. I'm not even upset by him stealing my pez or my chocolate. At first I was worried that the chocolate would kill him but then he took a big dump in the side yard, so I knew he'd be fine. I am jealous that while he can have all this candy and the wrappers too, he doesn't seem to gain weight or have a problem with choking or digesting said wrappers. Unfair if you ask me. I know you didn't, that's why I'm sharing!!!
I'm also doing laundry today, because that's what Moms are for, although I think it is kind of pointless. I mean, not the washing or drying of the laundry, that has a point. It becomes clean and wearable again without getting weird looks in public or having people whisper behind your back about how you smell funny or having Child Welfare called on you because your kids are in clothes that have never be washed. Always wash your clothes. That's important. It's the other thing that's pointless.I hate putting away laundry. I know we're all going to wear it again so it seems a waste to fold it and put it away. Especially since I'll pull out half of everything I own in a day to find something to wear and then just leave it there until it gets washed again or I find something I want to wear a few days from the first day I pull it out. And my kids always end up pulling most everything they own out while showing me what they want to wear, which makes me crazy because then I either have to put it away again, or just pretend it got worn and throw it in a laundry basket. I will not admit to what I actually do.
Anyways, I'm folding laundry and every member of my household has more underwear in this load than I do. Which means, my family wears underwear every day. But I'm curious about other people. I'm curious whether other people wear underwear. I do and I don't. It depends on what I'm wearing. If I wear a skirt or dress, yes, I do. But if I put on a pair of jeans, I don't. I think this is economical. Like you save money washing underwear and also, this means you need less pairs between laundry days. Also, I don't like panty-lines. But it's ok sometimes, like if I'm wearing short-shorts, then I like to say "yes, my jean shorts look like boys underwear but really, I am wearing a real pair underneath." So, this leaves me curious of whether other people wear underwear. And I don't know why this is what I'm curious about today. I guess I just don't care enough to know who you will vote for or if you are eating healthy or if that one little kid your friend knows finally got that marble unstuck from his nose. No, my concern is your underwear wearing cycles.
But that's all I have to say for now....
Oh wait, it's not. I have something else.
I bought the world's best 99 cent kindle book:::::::
"Bedtime Stories for Children You Hate"... I might cry from being so excited to read these to my husband as we go to sleep... I may also read these to my kids when they are bad or make me crazy... (Ok, mostly kidding about reading them to my children, I hate when they have nightmares. I have to get up and make them feel better and then I'm just sooo tired the next day so I better skip reading these to them and just focus on giving my husband nightmares. He can comfort himself, or if not, at least I don't have to get up.)
Anyways, that's it for my first blog of a new blog... Shhhh, don't tell.
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