13 Years and Counting

So, today is my 13th wedding anniversary. Ah....I so remember the day. What fun. But I realized something this morning as Hubby and I sat together on the loveseat in the kitchen, I sipping my morning java (hair a wild mess, wearing an old nightgown and thick socks, yesterday's mascara smudged underneath my eyes), he changing the channels every 5 seconds while waiting for our daughter to get ready for school. (Okay...sidebar...WHAT is the DEAL with the CHANGING of the CHANNELS, fellas? DANG! Could you leave it on one channel long enough for the person on there to get out a complete sentence? But I digress...that's a story for another day.)

Back to the thing that I realized. I remember, being a young bride and full of self-doubt and all, that sometimes my hubby would stop the TV on, you know, some kind of Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition photo shoot with, let's face, completely hot bikini-clad girls on it, and I would kind of get the vibe that he was thinking, "Why isn't my wife like THAT chick?" Well...my how times have changed. This morning I got that VERY same vibe from him....but this time he was watching that saintly, soft-spoken, hair-always-just-so, house-always-clean, kids-never-fighting, I-just-ADORE-my-husband-ALL-the-time, I-wouldn't-say-"poop"-if-I-had-a-mouthful-of-it, baby-factory Duggar chick on "Eighteen Kids and Counting".

Next Time Just Say, "The World Isn't Fair. Get Over It!"

I've always prided myself on being more one of those "glass half full" types and I'm hoping that my children grow up to be the same way. Any time one of them sees something as unfair or not right or sees that someone else has it easier than they do, I always try to take the opportunity to get them to look at things from a different perspective. This, of course, means, that I feel the need to over-explain everything to them in the most complete detail to the point that even the 4 yr. old will say, "Mom, just stop talking."

This is when you know that you've lost your mind and taken it TOO far:

A few days ago, my 11-year old and I were in the car together and she picked up the baby's Strawberry Shortcake coloring book. "I gotta give it to Strawberry Shortcake. That girl always has the cutest outfits."

"Yes," I said, "they certainly are different than the ones she wore when I was younger." (If you don't know, long gone are the puffy flower dresses of days gone by. Strawberry Shortcake has WAY cool outfits now...complete with the occasional ripped jeans and belly-button baring half-shirt. Great role model for my toddler.)(No, I didn't buy the coloring book.)

"Yeah. I wish I was Strawberry Shortcake. She doesn't have to go to school."

So then I said, completely seriously, "Well, sweetie, I'm sure she goes to school. Everybody has to go to school."

"No, Mom, she doesn't. They never show her in school, just out having adventures with her friends."

(And here is EXACTLY the point where I became a complete idiot.) "Well, honey, I'm sure she goes to school. They wouldn't show her in school on the cartoons because, well, who would want to watch a cartoon about a kid at school? I'm sure that, in real life, she goes to school."

'Real life' I said. 'Real life'....in a conversation....about Strawberry Shortcake. O....m....g.

WTForty?

April 16, 2010
It's a sad day when, thanks to the preteen living in your house, you realize that 'losing your cool' no longer refers to losing your temper. You're losing your cool...and no matter how much you insert "totally" or "like" or "something'-zzle'" into a conversation, your kid will still look at you like you are pathetically behind the times. My eleven-year-old told me the other day, "Mom...you're so hard to talk to. You just don't understand this world." What? Oh, no she DIDN'T (snap my fingers three times in a Z-formation)! Well please enlighten me, Miss I'm-11-And-I've-Had-Everything-Done-For-Me-My-Entire-Life, please, please, please enlighten me as to what exactly I don't UNDERSTAND about this world, which, by the way WASN'T EVEN COOL UNTIL I GOT HERE!
I may NOT know all the new songs on the radio, I may NOT recognize some of the young starlets in Hollywood, I may NOT understand the new Middle School politics, I may NOT be used to hearing kids say "sucks, frickin', or screwed", I may NOT be able to abide bad manners, I may NOT be able to eat pizza after 7:00, I may NOT be able to read fine print, I may NOT be able get off of the floor easily, I may NOT be still be able to stay awake until Saturday Night Live comes on, but I'm STILL coo-...oh crap...wait a minute...

April 12, 2010
Thank you, hyste-WRECK-to-me, for throwing me headlong into MENOPAUSE!!! I want to send a Shout-Out (Holla!), though, to all those geniuses that came up with Premarin. Less than a week on it and already the hot flashes and night sweats are over! YES! SCORE! And, as an additional bonus, my tweezers will get to go back into the drawer in the bathroom instead of being at my beck and call beside the mirror over the sink for any time the light is good in the bathroom. His and Hers pillow cases...sexy. His and Hers luxuriously soft bathrobes...sexy. His and Hers shaving kits on the bathroom counter...not so much.