So Sweet

Friday night, daughter kept telling me that I needed to sleep in on Saturday. She was adamant that I not get up early, or come downstairs, or leave my bed. Do you know why? Because she and Hubs made me breakfast in bed. It was just a plain old Saturday, not my birthday, not Mother's Day, not our anniversary, just plain old boring Saturday. They made me a card thanking me for all that I do. I had orange juice and coffee and pancakes and eggs and, well really, an entire breakfast spread with all the fixins. I know, right.

I am greatly appreciative of the sweetness and the love, I mean, really, really appreciative, but I also have to wonder, what is it exactly they want, those little consiprators?

Is this what happens to cynics? I can't even take a simple gift at face value? I need therapy.



Love you Family!

I Love Sleep More

My husband and I sleep in separate rooms. Except for the fact that it feels like we are more roommates with benefits than a married couple, it's not so bad. It hasn't always been this way, but he snored so badly that it was an inevitable progression to migrate to separate sleeping quarters lest I continue on in a zombie like status eventually craving brains and/or actually killing him while he slept. Later, we found out he had sleep apnea, he got one of those fancy breathing boxes which curbs the snoring but makes him sound like Darth Vader, I don't know which is worse really. By this time we were so used to sleeping apart we didn't really even think about moving back in together. Our daughter also has a habit of getting up in the middle of the night and migrating to one or the other's room and neither one of us have a bed big enough for three, so, we just kept the pre-box arrangement. Once in a while, we try to hang out together in bed, but it usually ends badly with one or the other kicking someone in their sleep, someone having to put the offspring back in her own bed, someone's too hot, someone's too cold, who stole the covers, stop suffocating me for cryin' out loud. If most normal people spend their nights like this it's no wonder we are a world constantly in a bad mood.

Last night, I decided to grace my husband with my presence because, a) offspring was spending the night somewhere else and b)it was really hot and husband has an in room a/c. I figured I could forgive random kicks, occasional snorts and odd husband sounds for a night between icy cold sheets mid-summer. I was ready and willing to go the long haul, actually sleeping in the same bed as my husband for an entire night. I was drifting to sleep, quite content when I heard a meek, "meow." I ignored it. A little more insistent "Meowwwww." Came from under the closed door I really tried to ignore it. That was when the cat yelled at full volume "MEEEOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" I got up and let the needy monster in. She jumped on me. Purred in my ear, jumped on my husband's back, he threw her off, she jumped on me again, meowed some more, kneaded her little paws into my belly fat, walked up and laid on my chest, purred loudly, walked around my body some more, finally settled on my head. At last she was fulfilled and I could get some sleep. Three hours later, someone opened the door and the cat followed that someone to wherever they were going. The cat did not follow someone back into the bedroom. Someone fell asleep and did not hear the insistent meowing that continued on for about 15 minutes straight. I got up to let the dang cat in and she ran down the hallway toward my room, looking back as if to say, "You comin'?"

So apparently, I am not meant to share a bed with my husband. Even the cat thinks so. So we will continue our unusual married couple ritual of separate quarters as odd as it may seem to other people. Sometimes I wonder about the psyche of my poor daughter who has never known her parents to sleep with one another. Will she go on to marry and think her new husband is crazy for wanting to share a bed? For us though it works, especially those midnight rendezvous in a strange bedroom.

Comments

I changed my comments section to reflect the number of blog stalkers I have because looking at "0 comments" was getting depressing.  "0 blog stalkers" makes me feel much less pathetic and more empowered that I have the ability to intimidate blog stalkers to the point that they don't dare visit my blog.  It's a triumph really.

Overheard Today

theinspiredroom

  

Blogging tip of the day: JUST BE YOURSELF. If people don't like it, they can move on. :-)

Well crap, this explains my readership. 

The Love List

50 Reasons Why I Love You : A Love List (Hypothetically)


You:

1. Are Intelligent

2. Are Humorous

3. Are Sarcastic

4. Are Faithful. As in, I am the be all end all of women for him. Period, end of story.

5. Are Chivalrous

6. Are Adventurous

7. Are Decisive

8. Are a Provider, as in, you are the man and I am not opposed to traditional gender roles.

9. Can Cook a good meal once in a while

10. Are Handy

11. Are A Self starter

12. Are Witty

13. Love Movies

14. Love Books

15. Love Music

16. Like to talk about movies/books/music

17. Are Motivated

18. Are Not afraid to profess your adoration for me and child(ren), in public

19. Smell nice

20. Take pride in looking presentable.

21. Like to look good/smell nice for me especially

22. Are Loyal

23. Are Understanding

24. Are Opinionated

25. Are Passionate on all accounts. (Life, love, politics, etc….)

26. Are Willing to “talk it out”

27. Understand that just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t make it right.

28. Are Not a Procrastinator

29. Have a plan

30. Are Supportive

31. Re Inventive

32. “Get” me

33. Debate with me

34. Tell me when I am just wrong

35. Do things for me, like the dishes and the laundry, and the cat box, because I hate cleaning the cat box.

36. Can shake your booty

37. Are not afraid to shake booty in public

38. Know that I have a problem with PDA but that I like DA’s at home!

39. Agree with me on the main issues of what’s wrong with people today and support my want to change the world!

40. Understands that I will eventually finish one of the thousand sewing projects I have started before our children leave home to start their own family. Also understand that the outfits I made for our children will eventually be able to fit grandchildren, thus, there really is no deadline for finishing said sewing items.

41. Appreciate me

42. Plan dates for us. Fun, exciting, interesting dates. Not dinner and a move.

43. Get excited for seemingly simple things

44. Look at me as your friend and lover and not just the mother of your child(ren) or housekeeper

45. Enjoy simple pleasures

46. Do not have to keep up with the Jones’

47. Are able to budget and manage money

48. Have a job that does not require long periods of time away from family

49. Make me feel beautiful

50. Make me love you more everyday

Blog Pimping

As it turns out, in writing my Mommy Manifesto, as promised yesterday, I was struck with the sense that I am perhaps bitter, cynical and misguided. Then, I blinked and I was all like "pshaw". Wanting, no needing, to make sure that what I write is more than a rant, I have decided to really get to the heart of the matter, the meat and potatoes of what's irking me. This will inevitably take more preparation that I had originally allotted time for, and so instead of my personal thoughts regarding the demise of mommy hood and child rearing I will instead give you my opinion on something else that is irking me.

I am very much over the blog community and their give-a-ways. I did not subscribe to your blog so that can try to sell me on someone else's blog via their crafty nature and/or superior design awesomeness. What exactly are YOU getting out of this relationship? Free stuff? A chance to increase your readership? I don't want free crap. I certainly don't want to have to visit six blogs and leave six different comments all the hope of winning a Silhouette cutting machine. I want to connect with like minded people who will in turn introduce me to like minded people. Right now, like minded people include those who are blatantly disgusted by advertisers in general pumping our heads with what's hot and new and what we can't live without.

If you make stuff, and you want to sell it, and you want to use your blog as a platform to do so. AWESOME! I like to see people create and I like to see people prosper from their creations. There is an authenticity to someone who tells the story behind their creations. However, blog land is not PR land, stop trying to turn it into the capitalist machine you greedy, sidebar ad selling, Mr. Linky blogging people.
You know what I do appreciate? People who share with the community. Not because they want to increase their readership or make some money, but because they genuinely want to share how to make and create. I give mad Kudos to those people. I like to feel like a community, not like a potential customer.

What was that I was saying about being bitter and cynical earlier?  Oh, nevermind.

Just Do It My Way, Everything Will Be Fine

First birthday, first day of school, sweet sixteen, high school graduation, college graduation, engagement, wedding, all milestone moments. Days that people will say, “This is the most important day of your life!” I have never looked at any one day as being more important than any other. There is a pattern to life that we all follow and for the most part, we will all have moments that meet at least a few of the aforementioned criteria. For me, the most important day of my life was the day my daughter was born. I was responsible for creating an actual human. Surreal.
I am six years into this motherhood thing. Still trying to work out exactly what it’s all about. What exactly is my role as “Mom”? Sure, I understand, love, protect, teach. I am raising a future citizen of humanity after all. Becoming part of the Mom Club initiated me into something that I had no idea existed pre-conception. The Alpha Woman Society. The A-list mom. Superwoman. Women who work full time, climbing the corporate ladder but still have time to make cupcakes for PTA events. Women whose children and home are always perfectly accessorized and neat. Women who set up play dates at Starbucks to discuss how they know the secret to having the smartest, most psychologically well adjusted kid who will grow up to be the richest most successful whatever they want to be. Of course, working moms aren’t the only piece of the puzzle. Let us please not forget the women who stay at home with their children. They are also just super, aren’t they. Looking down their noses at the working women, tsk tsking at how sad it is for those poor kids who must be shipped off to daycare everyday while mommy brings home the bacon. How awful for those children who do not have the opportunity to participate in all the enriching activities that are only available between the hours of 8 and 5, M-F. How neglected and sad. These poor children who will grow up into damaged adults unable to fully trust and love due to the neglectful behavior of their selfish mothers.
You know what I think? Lucky for you, I am going to spend this week telling you. Aren’t you so excited?

About Me

You know, I think everyone should write an “about me” statement every five years. I would really like to see what I was all about five years ago, ten years ago, or even just last year because it really seems to me that I am pretty clueless when it comes to knowing who I am at all. I think it would benefit me to have someone who isn’t me tell me something about me. I could use a starting point.

Life's a Female Dog in Heat, and Then You Wonder Is it Ever Going to End Already?

I have been really unmotivated lately, and when I say lately, I mean for like the last three years. I am just not really down with the whole "life" thing. I have decided that I don't really like people. They kind of annoy me. Not you people though, I mean, you people are cool. I mean why else would you be here reading my blog if you weren't. Maybe you were just really bored and happened to be googling Sex and the 12 Year Old and that's how you ended up here, which by the way, makes you really uncool in my book, you should probably leave now. I really need to pull myself out of this funk. I was thinking at the beginning of the month I would do a post a day in May because it's all rhymey and crap, but then I couldn't even commit to doing that because everyday I would sit in front of my monitor and stare at the little button that says "New Post" and be all like "Screw you New Post button, I hate you!" That was when I knew that I might want to look into some Zoloft or Abilify, but I don't believe in meds, so then I turned to coffee which just made me really antsy and angry, so then there was food, because gaining 20 pounds is just like taking an anti depressent. And then I realized, I am only halfway through my life and really started wishing that the next time I went to Target I could just pick up a new life by the latest big name designer who has sold their line to Target recently. I would like a Cynthia Rowley life please. But while I am here, I may as well pick up a Liberty of London alter ego, you know, just in case.

No Fumar

I have a terrible, nasty habit that I have been trying to quit for a long time. When I decided that I would kick the habit on May 1st, 2010, I made a list of other things that need to go. I didn’t realize I had so many addictions until I started making the list:

1. Smoking
2. Caffeine
3. Food
4. T.V.
5. Facebook
6. Nail biting

I mean really, all that’s missing are pornography, alcohol and drugs. I had no idea I was on such a downward spiral. I need an intervention. Actually, an intervention was probably what God had in mind when he sent the Mormon missionaries to my house. One day I will have to tell you a story. Not today though, today is about dealing with my horrible secrets.

Smoking has to be dealt with first. Head on, cold turkey. I don’t even know why I smoke. It’s not something I particularly enjoy, what with the smell, the cost, and oh yeah, the DEATH. You would think a shortened life span would be good enough deterrent to avoid just about anything, but sadly, I scoff in the face of death one puff at a time.

I like to think of myself as a “clean” smoker. Never in the house or the car. Only outside and never around other people. Unless they are smoking too. I avoid doing it in the direct path of an entry door, because I am considerate too. Oh yes, I give myself mad props for being such an awesome smoker. I bet you wish all smokers were as awesome as me. Oh wait, you probably wish people would just stop smoking all together. Understandable, I am totally in agreement with you. This does not change the fact that I have a particularly hard time letting the habit go. That’s why it’s called an addiction people!

Those Who Inspire and Don't Even Know It!

http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/2005/09/change-has-come.html. Start at the beginning, go on a journey. You won't be sorry.

A Simple Kind of Life

I dream of a simple life. The kind of life where I stay home and have lots of babies, do laundry, clean the house, make dinner for my husband who works oh so hard during the day. I like the idea of doing community service projects, being well liked by the Ladies Auxiliary and president of the PTA. I would like to have a carefree spring in my step and and think to myself "I love this beautiful, simple life!" All of this could be possible except for a few tiny, small, insignificant details.

First, I happen to be very loud and opinionated. I never take anything at face value. There is always an ulterior motive and I will make a point to try to figure out what it is. A loud, opinionated housewife. Who ever heard of such a thing? Also, I get angry at a lot of things. Society, government, my neighbor, the person in the minivan who did not yield at the sign clearly stated “YIELD”. I would like to be indifferent to the plight of the world, but I feel it is my duty as a human being to make the world a better place. This mostly revolves around people doing things my way or at the very least listening to me lay out the pros and cons of why my way is the right way and theirs is wrong.

Second, I have very little patience. I like to have an agenda, meet that agenda and move on the the next item of business. Please stop dilly-dallying on my time thank-you-very-much. Very little patience and children just don't seem to go hand-in-hand.

Third, I really don’t like to fold the whites. Socks are my nemeses. By the way, I don't like the word “nemeses”don’t you think the plural of nemesis should be nemesi?

So, while I like the idea of a simple life, the truth is, life by its very nature is complicated.

Please Standby

I received an email today that made me smile. It was from The Story Lady and she said "I miss your blogs". Well thank you Story Lady for reading, I greatly appreciate it!

Unfortunately, reality T.V. is consuming my life. Idol, Loser, Lost. You know, the usual. You know the problem with reality T.V.? It' doesn't go on hiatus. It's like 24-7/365. I do have one question though, when exactly did Jillian Michaels personal trainer become Dr. Michaels, psychiatrist?Very confusing.

Also, can you believe that Ricky Martin is gay? As if. I am completely shocked. There was no possible way to see that one coming.

 Nope, not at all.

The Next Thirty Years

Last week, I turned 35. And then I thought, what the hell? What the "f "am I gonna do for the next 30 years, 60 years? Jesus, I feel like I have lived forever already! You see, I am kind of at a point where everything I do seems pretty meaningless. I am not particularly fond of the world or how it works. What is my purpose? What is your purpose? What is the purpose of jello? It was then that I realized, I have no purpose. Other than the purpose that I lay out for myself. What kind of person do I want to be? What kind of life do I want to live? So now, I can spend the next 30 years deciding what kind of person I want to be and then the 30 years after that being that person. This is ridiculous.

This is Retarded

Mentally Challenged=not smart=dumb=retarded. Why is this an issue? It is what it is. Stop being so frickin' sensitive and get over it. I am pretty sure that I have the right to say what I want to say when I want to say it, you know, living in the U.S. and all. You know what? You have the right to not listen.

It's Monday, Again.

So, Monday came and went. Now it's here again. The problem is, I don't really have a plan. I just kind of say I do. So starting tomorrow, Monday, again, I am getting up at 6:30 every morning to work out in my home gym. Oh yes, I am so lucky to have a home gym. The decor is beautiful and motivating, the equipment is clean and inviting. It smells so ni.....what the hell is that? Dang it dog, did you poop on my gym floor? I know you had to go out, but I am blogging here. "Clean up in the home gym", I say to my husband in my best checkout girl voice.

Where was I? Oh yes, home gym. It doubles as our family room. But it has a very large T.V. and a great sound system which I am sure will be so motivating at 6:30 in the morning. I bet you have a home gym too. Aren't we all so fanatically lucky?

If possible, could you please remind me tomorrow that yes, those pants do make my butt look big, so I will be motivated once again to answer the 6:30am wake up call on Tuesday.

Thanks, you're awfully sweet!

Open Letter Series

Dear Fellow Driver,

I realize that as drivers, we must share the road. Since it's just not practical to request my very own driving lane, I would like to suggest a few rules that perhaps we could try to follow on a daily basis.

I use my vehicle as a mode of transportation to get from one location to another quickly. If I were concerned about seeing the world around me or stopping to smell the roses, I would walk. May I suggest you do the same if your intentions are to drive below the posted speed limit.

Know your destination and how to get there before you start driving. If you miss your turn or exit, do not slam on your brakes and put your car in reverse. This usually leads to unsavory happenings. Simply keep moving until you find a suitable location to rectify your mistake.

Use your blinker, please. My psychic powers have been on the fritz since, oh, about birth, so I am sure I had no idea you intended to turn left while I went straight.

Speaking of right of way, a four way stop works on the "to the right" basis. I didn't make the rules, that's just how it is.
When the light turns green, that means go. When the light turns red, that means stop. I only mention this because I have seen you do the opposite. I once honked at you, when you were stopped at a green light, to which you yelled back at me, "What? It will be red eventually".

I think that by following these simple rules, we can improve our driving expierience greatly and prevent me from following you to your destination and running your ass over.

Respectfully,

Retarded, Challenged, Whatever

My husband (Lawn Boy) and I are not suffering from infertility, rather, we are fertility retarded, or if you want to be PC, challenged. The fact is, we are riding the short bus down the embryo highway. We already have one chitlin, is that enough? Maybe we should just focus all of our attention on making her the most awesomest human ever. Is it politically incorrect to hang out around the door of the abortion clinic and try to convince people to go through with their pregnancy and give the kid to me? I know, there is a fine line between charitable and psychotic. I actually really think that Lawn Boy's little swimmers are the ones that are retarded, because I am practically perfect in every way, my half of the equation is golden. No, literally, if you put them under a microscope they are 14K. I should send those little bastards into the place that gives you cash for gold.

No More Drama

I have to say. I am over the drama. People, just stop, really. Live your life, be happy, get over it.

If, Wen, and Y

Have you seen the infomercial for Wen hair care products? If you haven't, it is supposedly this really great alternative hair care program that Melissa Gilbert touts as super awesome. Notice I did not put quotes around that because she didn't actually say those words, just something like it. I was thinking, really, isn't the product just really like a conditioner? So I decided, in the interest of science, to expierment this week by using conditioner only on my hair. No lathery shampoo, just super moisturizing strength conditioner. Hopefully, my hair will become the silky, beautiful mane I hope to have and not the oily, greasy mop that I hypothesis.

An Original Thought

If you peruse the Internet long enough, you will eventually find that there is no such thing as an original thought. Somewhere, someone, is thinking the exact same thing as you. True story.

It Weighs Heavily...

The laptop was on the floor to my right.  I bent down to pick it up and realized that my belly fat was making it very hard to do so.  When did I get so fat? It has been so gradual I didn't even notice.  Now what? Make a goal, lose some weight.  It sounds so simple.  Eat less, exercise more.  When do I start? Tomorrow? Monday? Oh, the ever occuring Monday.  I'll do it Monday.  That gives me the whole weekend to eat.  Eat at Chili's, YUM. I can also sit on my butt and not think about exercise. For a whole weekend.  Then comes Monday.  I guess I'll start then.

The Road to Simplicity

Today, I thought about ways to simplify my life.  I came up with 101 fantastic ideas. Problem is, I would need to leave my husband and the kid.  How is it that root of all things complicated begin with the two of them? Don't judge, you know you feel the same way.

Nice to Meet You

Hello, I'm Jayne. Nice to meet you. I like to read the blogs of stay at home mom's whose lives are so much more different than mine. The moms that seem so perfect, that fit into society like little round pegs. I like to roll around and find a comfortable warm place in their craftiness and recipe sharing, wrapped up their portrayals of their perfect little lives.It's one of my favorite pastimes. I am also working on my grace. It's very hard for me to be nice. I say things I shouldn't and am quite crass sometimes. I don't apologize for it, just keepin' it real.