I'm not a morning person. Yes, I have to get up at 6am every work day, but I wake up grumpy and tired. I need a long, hot shower, at least 1 cup of coffee, and to be completely dressed and ready by 7am in order to feel even remotely human. I only got 2 out of 3 of those things this morning, and it has made me a slug.
Harry regrouted all the tile in the tub area of our bathroom yesterday. He worked extremely hard doing it, and he did a fantastic job. I was seriously overwelmed by the amount of work I knew it was going to take, and I thought for sure he wouldn't be able to complete in one day's time. He managed to at least get the new grout on after a long day scraping and cutting the old grout. 50 year old grout. What a bitch!
There were a few loose tiles he knew he was going to have to re-adhere before he could really do anything else, and he was worried that all the water damage done to the tub area because of glass doors the previous owners had put in had seeped all the way to the drywall behind the tile. And dammit if he wasn't right.
He dried out what was left of our disintegrating wall before re-adhering the tile. We're hoping that will hold for a little while because we really don't have the money to demo and redo the bathroom right now. We were planning on doing it in a couple of years, and the look of the wall behind the tile solidifies those plans. We NEED to completely gut our bathroom and sooner rather than later. There's $5-6K gone. Lovely.
Anyway, the grout needed time to dry, and that meant no shower for me in the AM. Blech. I'm extremely cranky without my shower. I feel all fuzzy-headed without it. Wah.
At least the shower will be usable tonight/tomorrow morning.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Stakeout
We were insane. That's the only excuse for our stupidity.
The beginning of our senior year, my friend, Jessica, had this freaky stalker. It started in September, if I remember correctly. I know it was still warm out because the bedroom windows were open in the evenings to help alleviate the vast humidity that is CT in Indian Summer.
It started with a drive-by one weekend, some freakazoid screaming Jessica's name out his car window late at night as he zoomed past her house. A friend playing a joke? We had no clue.
This repeated for a few weekends after, always on a Friday or Saturday night or the night before a holiday/vacation day from school. This led us to believe it was possibly someone home from college, mostly because we didn't know anyone with a white sports car (Jess had managed to see the car zoom away one night after the yelling).
She was getting pretty sick of it, so we devised a plan. A stakeout. We were going to find out who this idiot was.
So, we planned a sleepover one weekend at her house. Around 10pm or so, we ventured out into her front yard and plopped ourselves between the two humongous pine trees in her front yard, armed with flashlights and snacks. We sat there for over two hours, waiting for this moron to drive by, hoping we'd get a glimpse of him or at least his license plate.
Two teenaged girls sitting in the dark in the middle of the night with nothing but a flashlight. There's no two ways about it... we were fucking nuts.
Finally, around 12:30am, we decided to go back inside. He just wasn't coming. Damn it all.
We got into our PJs, turned out the lights, and pulled our covers back. As we were each getting into our respective beds (mine was a makeshift one on the floor), a blood-curdling scream pierced the otherwise calm night air... "Jessssssss-ssssssiiieeeee!" Both of us froze in the dark, terrified and paralzyed with fear. Neither of us even made it to the window to take a look; neither of us could even move until we could no longer hear his car.
When it was over, we both agreed that we were glad we HADN'T been outside when he drove by.
Either later that weekend or the next, he took it to the next level and actually got OUT of his car. He and a friend (possibly two) approached her house and actually started talking to her outside her window, singing profane lyrics made on the fly. She was scared, of course, but she was also armed... with a tape recorder. She had their voices on tape.
She brought the tape into school Monday morning and played it for a few people, hoping someone would recognize one of the voices. One friend found the voices familiar. I remember that much.
We never did find out exactly who it was (although we had our suspicions after the tape). Soon after that, the stalking stopped. Maybe he got bored. Maybe he heard about the recording. Maybe he didn't come back from college for a couple of months and just lost interest. I don't think we'll ever find out.
The beginning of our senior year, my friend, Jessica, had this freaky stalker. It started in September, if I remember correctly. I know it was still warm out because the bedroom windows were open in the evenings to help alleviate the vast humidity that is CT in Indian Summer.
It started with a drive-by one weekend, some freakazoid screaming Jessica's name out his car window late at night as he zoomed past her house. A friend playing a joke? We had no clue.
This repeated for a few weekends after, always on a Friday or Saturday night or the night before a holiday/vacation day from school. This led us to believe it was possibly someone home from college, mostly because we didn't know anyone with a white sports car (Jess had managed to see the car zoom away one night after the yelling).
She was getting pretty sick of it, so we devised a plan. A stakeout. We were going to find out who this idiot was.
So, we planned a sleepover one weekend at her house. Around 10pm or so, we ventured out into her front yard and plopped ourselves between the two humongous pine trees in her front yard, armed with flashlights and snacks. We sat there for over two hours, waiting for this moron to drive by, hoping we'd get a glimpse of him or at least his license plate.
Two teenaged girls sitting in the dark in the middle of the night with nothing but a flashlight. There's no two ways about it... we were fucking nuts.
Finally, around 12:30am, we decided to go back inside. He just wasn't coming. Damn it all.
We got into our PJs, turned out the lights, and pulled our covers back. As we were each getting into our respective beds (mine was a makeshift one on the floor), a blood-curdling scream pierced the otherwise calm night air... "Jessssssss-ssssssiiieeeee!" Both of us froze in the dark, terrified and paralzyed with fear. Neither of us even made it to the window to take a look; neither of us could even move until we could no longer hear his car.
When it was over, we both agreed that we were glad we HADN'T been outside when he drove by.
Either later that weekend or the next, he took it to the next level and actually got OUT of his car. He and a friend (possibly two) approached her house and actually started talking to her outside her window, singing profane lyrics made on the fly. She was scared, of course, but she was also armed... with a tape recorder. She had their voices on tape.
She brought the tape into school Monday morning and played it for a few people, hoping someone would recognize one of the voices. One friend found the voices familiar. I remember that much.
We never did find out exactly who it was (although we had our suspicions after the tape). Soon after that, the stalking stopped. Maybe he got bored. Maybe he heard about the recording. Maybe he didn't come back from college for a couple of months and just lost interest. I don't think we'll ever find out.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
My sister is getting married!
My older sister, Debby, got engaged this past Christmas. Steve, her fiance, seems like a pretty nice guy. I don't really know him all that well yet, but he makes her happy and that's what matters.
They got engaged pretty quickly, just 9 or 10 months after they met, but they both seem very sure of their relationship. That's good enough for me.
When they first announced it, they were planning on a big wedding with all the bells and whistles. It's what my sister wanted, and well, he wants whatever she wants (awwww). They started planning and set a date for May of next year.
After a few months of wedding stress, my sister emailed me today, letting me know that they've decided to go the small-private-ceremony-at-a-park-at-sunset route with a fun party/shindig at their house for all the next day instead. And they're getting married this August. She asked for my thoughts on it.
Naturally, I'm all for it. It's exactly what her wedding should be... about the two of them getting married. No "this person needs to be in the wedding party" and "if I invite this person, I have to invite this person" and "no, we can't sit those two together" crap. It's not about the flowers or the venue or the music or the daughter/father dance. It's about the two people who've decided to spend the rest of their lives together pledging their love and loyalty to one another*.
BUT... I wondered "why the change of heart?" My sister has been married before, and she had the big old wedding 20 years ago. Unfortunately, she and her ex didn't really get to decide what the wedding would actually be like. Since my parents were footing the bill, the wedding really belonged to them. Their friends, their choice of a band, their choice of venue. After Deb got divorced, she had said she'd have another big wedding if she remarried, but she'd get to call all the shots this time.
So I asked about the sudden change of heart, and her answer was exactly what I wanted to hear... that really, she just wanted to get married to the man she loved.
So, yay, my sister's getting married!
*by the way, I am totally not against big weddings. I am totally against the vast amounts of stress they cause and the crazy amount of cash needed to pull them off. If you've got a planner and the mula, have at it!
They got engaged pretty quickly, just 9 or 10 months after they met, but they both seem very sure of their relationship. That's good enough for me.
When they first announced it, they were planning on a big wedding with all the bells and whistles. It's what my sister wanted, and well, he wants whatever she wants (awwww). They started planning and set a date for May of next year.
After a few months of wedding stress, my sister emailed me today, letting me know that they've decided to go the small-private-ceremony-at-a-park-at-sunset route with a fun party/shindig at their house for all the next day instead. And they're getting married this August. She asked for my thoughts on it.
Naturally, I'm all for it. It's exactly what her wedding should be... about the two of them getting married. No "this person needs to be in the wedding party" and "if I invite this person, I have to invite this person" and "no, we can't sit those two together" crap. It's not about the flowers or the venue or the music or the daughter/father dance. It's about the two people who've decided to spend the rest of their lives together pledging their love and loyalty to one another*.
BUT... I wondered "why the change of heart?" My sister has been married before, and she had the big old wedding 20 years ago. Unfortunately, she and her ex didn't really get to decide what the wedding would actually be like. Since my parents were footing the bill, the wedding really belonged to them. Their friends, their choice of a band, their choice of venue. After Deb got divorced, she had said she'd have another big wedding if she remarried, but she'd get to call all the shots this time.
So I asked about the sudden change of heart, and her answer was exactly what I wanted to hear... that really, she just wanted to get married to the man she loved.
So, yay, my sister's getting married!
*by the way, I am totally not against big weddings. I am totally against the vast amounts of stress they cause and the crazy amount of cash needed to pull them off. If you've got a planner and the mula, have at it!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Maybe I should rename this blog as "How Becoming a Tattooed Mommy Leads me to Post Only Once a Week"
It seems like nothing much really happens during the week anymore, so I'm constantly writing about our weekends. Where we went, what we did, our moods, etc. We're just so scheduled nowadays, that I've become a weekender. Eh, it was bound to happen.
Teri had mentioned to Harry on Thursday that Ellie had been "off" most of the day, hitting some of the kids (fantastic!), crying for no apparent reason, and not taking a nap. When she got home, she was cranky for sure. At first I chalked it up to the no nap thing, but then I noticed her nose was runny. Great. Another freakin' cold.
Sure enough, I asked Teri the next day, and she said both David and Erica had the sniffles this week. Ellie, on the other hand, seemed to be doing OK, so she went to daycare as usual. At the end of the day, Teri reported that Ellie wasn't 100% her normal, lovable self, but the day was nothing like Thursday. And her nose was no longer running. Wow, those were some quick sniffles.
Saturday morning was our usual time together while Harry went to work. I love our Saturday mornings. We don't really do anything special, but it's just me and my girl. I love that.
She seemed totally fine all morning. We shopped, we played outside, we watched a little TV, the norm. She ate lunch, Harry came home, and a little while later, she took her nap. When she woke up, she was cranky. Very cranky. Honestly, bedtime couldn't come soon enough.
On Sunday, we had playdate at usual. Sundays are my day to "sleep in" (read wake up at 8am instead of 7:30am). When I got up at 8, Harry still hadn't changed her diaper, dressed her, fed her, etc. Um, OK. I was a little annoyed to say the least. Diaper changes and dressing are the bain of my existence these days because Ellie usually fights them. She kicks, she screams, she cries. Morning diaper changing and dressing fall on me 6 days out of the week; I'd really like a break on Sunday.
By 8:15, I gently reminded Harry he still hadn't changed her diaper. Ellie started screaming bloody murder while he tried to pick her up, so I intervened, getting her jammies off for him. At least she didn't kick me.
By 10am, she still hadn't been dressed. No comment. I picked some clothes out for her and started to dress her myself. Of course, she started kicking the ever-living shit out of me. Harry swooped in trying to help, but, well, his hands were in the way. I can't get her pants on with his hands holding her legs, ya know? So I just flipped. Not on him, not on her, just in general, screaming, "I get kicked every day! I'm tired of it!"
And then I put myself in time out.
I HATE yelling. I hate myself for yelling. I quickly took myself out of the equation, went downstairs for a few, and calmed down.
A little while later, Kim, Delio, and Niko showed up for playdate. I vented a little to Kim, which actually did me some good. It's good to talk to someone who knows exactly how you're feeling.
A little while later, Harry's friends, Luke and Laura (yes, really, Luke and Laura for all you GH fans out there), came by for lunch. We had a really nice visit, and it was a lot of fun to host our little lunch party. I hope we get to do it again soon.
Ellie was awesome while company was there, but she woke up from her nap grouchy again. All I kept thinking was, "The Three's can't be worse than the Two's. They CAN'T. I won't be able to make it through them." Yes, a bit melodramatic, but it's really how I felt by the end of the day.
Monday morning was MUCH better. She woke up in a great mood. I, on the other hand, woke up with a slight sore throat. Great. Now I'm sick.
As the day progressed, I was feeling pretty crappy. My equillibrium felt off, making my ears feel funny. My throat was still just a little itchy. My head was just a little stuffed.
So this is what Ellie had been feeling this weekend. I had no idea.
She seemed fine in every other way. Her nose wasn't runny at all. No sneezing either. I didn't realize she was sick. No wonder she was so cranky.
Teri reported at the end of Monday that Ellie was completely fine. Yes! She was in an awesome mood last night when I got home from work, and she woke up in that same mood this morning. So her cold, which I didn't even know she had, has run its course.
My cold, on the other hand, is kicking my butt. It's not bad, just highly annoying. Everything is just a little bit irritated. Ugh. I wish I had known that Ellie felt like this this past weekend; I could have sympathized, made her rest a little more, made her some hot cocoa, etc.
I can't wait until she finally starts voicing when something hurts. Poor thing.
Teri had mentioned to Harry on Thursday that Ellie had been "off" most of the day, hitting some of the kids (fantastic!), crying for no apparent reason, and not taking a nap. When she got home, she was cranky for sure. At first I chalked it up to the no nap thing, but then I noticed her nose was runny. Great. Another freakin' cold.
Sure enough, I asked Teri the next day, and she said both David and Erica had the sniffles this week. Ellie, on the other hand, seemed to be doing OK, so she went to daycare as usual. At the end of the day, Teri reported that Ellie wasn't 100% her normal, lovable self, but the day was nothing like Thursday. And her nose was no longer running. Wow, those were some quick sniffles.
Saturday morning was our usual time together while Harry went to work. I love our Saturday mornings. We don't really do anything special, but it's just me and my girl. I love that.
She seemed totally fine all morning. We shopped, we played outside, we watched a little TV, the norm. She ate lunch, Harry came home, and a little while later, she took her nap. When she woke up, she was cranky. Very cranky. Honestly, bedtime couldn't come soon enough.
On Sunday, we had playdate at usual. Sundays are my day to "sleep in" (read wake up at 8am instead of 7:30am). When I got up at 8, Harry still hadn't changed her diaper, dressed her, fed her, etc. Um, OK. I was a little annoyed to say the least. Diaper changes and dressing are the bain of my existence these days because Ellie usually fights them. She kicks, she screams, she cries. Morning diaper changing and dressing fall on me 6 days out of the week; I'd really like a break on Sunday.
By 8:15, I gently reminded Harry he still hadn't changed her diaper. Ellie started screaming bloody murder while he tried to pick her up, so I intervened, getting her jammies off for him. At least she didn't kick me.
By 10am, she still hadn't been dressed. No comment. I picked some clothes out for her and started to dress her myself. Of course, she started kicking the ever-living shit out of me. Harry swooped in trying to help, but, well, his hands were in the way. I can't get her pants on with his hands holding her legs, ya know? So I just flipped. Not on him, not on her, just in general, screaming, "I get kicked every day! I'm tired of it!"
And then I put myself in time out.
I HATE yelling. I hate myself for yelling. I quickly took myself out of the equation, went downstairs for a few, and calmed down.
A little while later, Kim, Delio, and Niko showed up for playdate. I vented a little to Kim, which actually did me some good. It's good to talk to someone who knows exactly how you're feeling.
A little while later, Harry's friends, Luke and Laura (yes, really, Luke and Laura for all you GH fans out there), came by for lunch. We had a really nice visit, and it was a lot of fun to host our little lunch party. I hope we get to do it again soon.
Ellie was awesome while company was there, but she woke up from her nap grouchy again. All I kept thinking was, "The Three's can't be worse than the Two's. They CAN'T. I won't be able to make it through them." Yes, a bit melodramatic, but it's really how I felt by the end of the day.
Monday morning was MUCH better. She woke up in a great mood. I, on the other hand, woke up with a slight sore throat. Great. Now I'm sick.
As the day progressed, I was feeling pretty crappy. My equillibrium felt off, making my ears feel funny. My throat was still just a little itchy. My head was just a little stuffed.
So this is what Ellie had been feeling this weekend. I had no idea.
She seemed fine in every other way. Her nose wasn't runny at all. No sneezing either. I didn't realize she was sick. No wonder she was so cranky.
Teri reported at the end of Monday that Ellie was completely fine. Yes! She was in an awesome mood last night when I got home from work, and she woke up in that same mood this morning. So her cold, which I didn't even know she had, has run its course.
My cold, on the other hand, is kicking my butt. It's not bad, just highly annoying. Everything is just a little bit irritated. Ugh. I wish I had known that Ellie felt like this this past weekend; I could have sympathized, made her rest a little more, made her some hot cocoa, etc.
I can't wait until she finally starts voicing when something hurts. Poor thing.
Friday, March 20, 2009
People in glass houses
For the past few weeks, I've been all pissy about a friend that kinda just falls off the face of the earth on occasion, then comes back and pretends like absolutely nothing happened. I take it personally and constantly question what it was that I did wrong to make that friend suddenly go away.
Then I realized that *I* do the same fucking thing. Frequently.
I don't intentionally set out to alienate a certain friend or anything, but there are days, weeks that I kind of just turn off. It's like I need to regenerate and go on sabbatical into the land of "I'm not in the mood to talk". It happens, the days or weeks pass by in a flash, and I don't really think much of it. I also don't think anyone else notices.
But maybe I have friends as crazy and neurotic as me, and they DO notice. Maybe they question what they've done to make me suddenly *poof* disappear. Maybe they wonder where the stick up my ass came from.
Or maybe no one notices. And maybe that's because it's normal to take a break every once in a while. And I'm just crazy and neurotic, taking everything personally.
I think I need to realize that everyone else's life does not revolve around mine, and friends are not here for my entertainment alone. They actually have other stuff to do, other friends to see, other places to be.
I think I'm what you'd call self-absorbed.
Then I realized that *I* do the same fucking thing. Frequently.
I don't intentionally set out to alienate a certain friend or anything, but there are days, weeks that I kind of just turn off. It's like I need to regenerate and go on sabbatical into the land of "I'm not in the mood to talk". It happens, the days or weeks pass by in a flash, and I don't really think much of it. I also don't think anyone else notices.
But maybe I have friends as crazy and neurotic as me, and they DO notice. Maybe they question what they've done to make me suddenly *poof* disappear. Maybe they wonder where the stick up my ass came from.
Or maybe no one notices. And maybe that's because it's normal to take a break every once in a while. And I'm just crazy and neurotic, taking everything personally.
I think I need to realize that everyone else's life does not revolve around mine, and friends are not here for my entertainment alone. They actually have other stuff to do, other friends to see, other places to be.
I think I'm what you'd call self-absorbed.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I think I need stress/anger management courses... or a vast supply of sick days
Ellie and I had a great Saturday together, grocery shopping, playing outside, cuddling while watching a movie, the works. I love days like that. Top it all off with my mom cooking us a fantastic fried chicken strip dinner (I will NEVER be able to fry chicken like my mom) and a chick flick (Mamma Mia) for me and said mom, and the day was as perfect as you can get.
So I have no idea why I was so grumpy on Sunday. It might be the lack of sleep I've gotten since DST began finally catching up with me. I can hardly get out of bed in the morning for the last week and a half. This morning I even got up, showered, then went BACK to sleep for 15 minutes... in my towel. This time change thing really sucks.
Whatever the reason, I was in a piss poor mood pretty much the entire day. It doesn't help when Harry notices I'm not in a good mood and continually asks me what's wrong. A simple "nothing" or "I don't know" doesn't appease him. He needs to know why I'm in a bad mood. So he asks over and over again. In the past, I know I've snapped something like, "Aren't I allowed to be in a bad mood once in a while?" I managed to not say that this passed Sunday.
I got to the point where I thought maybe making someone else happy would alleviate my mood, so I told Harry he could go out and get the ginormous flat panel TV he wanted. You best believe he raced out the door. 6 hours later and we were watching a nature show on a 42" LCD screen suspended on a new flat panel TV stand. I must admit it's rather nice.
Monday morning, I dragged myself out of bed yet again. Ellie was in a pretty good mood, so that helped me a little. I dropped her off at daycare and went to work. A couple hours in, I was just so tired I decided I'd take a 1/2 day and just go home and rest.
And that was really all I needed.
I needed a day to myself. To do whatever I wanted. To relax and veg. To not have to answer to anyone. To make myself something good to eat. To enjoy the peace and quiet of my neighborhood. To hang out with my cat. To just be.
Unfortunately, I don't have an endless supply of sick days.
This rambling, random nonsense was brought to you by Alicia-is-definitely-a-bit-sleep-deprived.
So I have no idea why I was so grumpy on Sunday. It might be the lack of sleep I've gotten since DST began finally catching up with me. I can hardly get out of bed in the morning for the last week and a half. This morning I even got up, showered, then went BACK to sleep for 15 minutes... in my towel. This time change thing really sucks.
Whatever the reason, I was in a piss poor mood pretty much the entire day. It doesn't help when Harry notices I'm not in a good mood and continually asks me what's wrong. A simple "nothing" or "I don't know" doesn't appease him. He needs to know why I'm in a bad mood. So he asks over and over again. In the past, I know I've snapped something like, "Aren't I allowed to be in a bad mood once in a while?" I managed to not say that this passed Sunday.
I got to the point where I thought maybe making someone else happy would alleviate my mood, so I told Harry he could go out and get the ginormous flat panel TV he wanted. You best believe he raced out the door. 6 hours later and we were watching a nature show on a 42" LCD screen suspended on a new flat panel TV stand. I must admit it's rather nice.
Monday morning, I dragged myself out of bed yet again. Ellie was in a pretty good mood, so that helped me a little. I dropped her off at daycare and went to work. A couple hours in, I was just so tired I decided I'd take a 1/2 day and just go home and rest.
And that was really all I needed.
I needed a day to myself. To do whatever I wanted. To relax and veg. To not have to answer to anyone. To make myself something good to eat. To enjoy the peace and quiet of my neighborhood. To hang out with my cat. To just be.
Unfortunately, I don't have an endless supply of sick days.
This rambling, random nonsense was brought to you by Alicia-is-definitely-a-bit-sleep-deprived.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Happenings
We had an awesome weekend.
First, we got our taxes done. Why are we celebrating that? Because we get money BACK. Woo hoo! It's not quite as much as we were hoping for, but I'll take it. We had already discussed that any money we got back this year would go towards some more home improvement stuff, so we've decided on a backyard patio being the first thing we're funnelling the money into. Harry will be doing all the labor, and *I* get to reap all the benefits. LOL. Seriously, I'm really excited about the project. I love sitting outside, soaking up the sun, sipping on coffee. We had a patio at our old house, and it was used A LOT from spring until fall.
Then my mom made dinner for us, which is always a treat because a)she's a fantastic cook and b)I don't have to cook that night. Love it.
She babysat for us on Saturday night, so Harry and I were able to go see Watchmen. I will say that they did a fantastic job recreating the book onscreen. Some of the shots were phenomenal, mirroring the comic book panels to a tee. I think that's what impressed me the most. On the downside, it was even more violent than the book was, and, well, I'm a bit squeamish when it comes to that. Luckily, I knew the scenes I shouldn't watch, but I could still, unfortunately, hear them. Ick. And I'll admit that I peaked a couple of times only to see some bone breaking which just turns my legs to jello. Dude, it's so nasty.
They gave the movie an R rating for sex and violence, and seriously, it should have been NC-17. There was a sex scene that was borderline soft porn. I had noticed a dad had brought his son to the movie; that scene must have been interesting to watch together. Ewww. I still remember my sister renting Clerks, and my mom sitting down watching it with us. Once we got to the part about the blow jobs, I had to turn it off. You don't watch stuff like that with the 'rents. Icky, icky, icky.
All in all, I think they could have toned down the sex and violence, gone with a PG-13 rating, and it still would have been excellent. And they may have gotten a bigger crowd at the theatre; there were less than 100 people in the theatre at 8:15 on a Saturday night opening weekend. That's kinda crappy for such a big movie.
On Sunday, we had some really glorious weather, so we spent a good portion of the morning outside. Ellie and Niko spent their playdate running around and swinging and riding bikes and stuff. They had a blast, and all the fresh air and craziness totally wiped them out, which was the plan since DST totally messes with all our schedules. Ellie actually put HERSELF down for a nap at 1pm. Can you say holy crap? That has never happened in the Banks house.
Some family crap that I won't get into happened later Sunday evening, and that kind of ended the weekend on a bad note. One guess who caused the ruckus (and it's not my dad). One day her selfishness will bite her in the ass. Karma is a bitch.
First, we got our taxes done. Why are we celebrating that? Because we get money BACK. Woo hoo! It's not quite as much as we were hoping for, but I'll take it. We had already discussed that any money we got back this year would go towards some more home improvement stuff, so we've decided on a backyard patio being the first thing we're funnelling the money into. Harry will be doing all the labor, and *I* get to reap all the benefits. LOL. Seriously, I'm really excited about the project. I love sitting outside, soaking up the sun, sipping on coffee. We had a patio at our old house, and it was used A LOT from spring until fall.
Then my mom made dinner for us, which is always a treat because a)she's a fantastic cook and b)I don't have to cook that night. Love it.
She babysat for us on Saturday night, so Harry and I were able to go see Watchmen. I will say that they did a fantastic job recreating the book onscreen. Some of the shots were phenomenal, mirroring the comic book panels to a tee. I think that's what impressed me the most. On the downside, it was even more violent than the book was, and, well, I'm a bit squeamish when it comes to that. Luckily, I knew the scenes I shouldn't watch, but I could still, unfortunately, hear them. Ick. And I'll admit that I peaked a couple of times only to see some bone breaking which just turns my legs to jello. Dude, it's so nasty.
They gave the movie an R rating for sex and violence, and seriously, it should have been NC-17. There was a sex scene that was borderline soft porn. I had noticed a dad had brought his son to the movie; that scene must have been interesting to watch together. Ewww. I still remember my sister renting Clerks, and my mom sitting down watching it with us. Once we got to the part about the blow jobs, I had to turn it off. You don't watch stuff like that with the 'rents. Icky, icky, icky.
All in all, I think they could have toned down the sex and violence, gone with a PG-13 rating, and it still would have been excellent. And they may have gotten a bigger crowd at the theatre; there were less than 100 people in the theatre at 8:15 on a Saturday night opening weekend. That's kinda crappy for such a big movie.
On Sunday, we had some really glorious weather, so we spent a good portion of the morning outside. Ellie and Niko spent their playdate running around and swinging and riding bikes and stuff. They had a blast, and all the fresh air and craziness totally wiped them out, which was the plan since DST totally messes with all our schedules. Ellie actually put HERSELF down for a nap at 1pm. Can you say holy crap? That has never happened in the Banks house.
Some family crap that I won't get into happened later Sunday evening, and that kind of ended the weekend on a bad note. One guess who caused the ruckus (and it's not my dad). One day her selfishness will bite her in the ass. Karma is a bitch.
Friday, March 6, 2009
The Cure
And maybe, just maybe, I needed to get laid. I'm sure the warm bath and 2 glasses of wine helped, too.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
I just want a break
Last week was blah. I was hoping it would pass. And I suppose it did. Monday was a lovely day, even with all the snow. I had really wanted an extra day with Ellie and Harry, and the snow made that possible. So you'd think the rest of the week would follow suit.
Not so.
This week, instead of blah, I'm short-tempered and extremely impatient. I hate when I get like this. *I* don't want to be around me when I'm in this kind of mood. Add stress at work, Ellie's monster stubbornness, and Harry's forgetfulness to the mix, and well, it's not pretty.
I got to the point last night where I just wanted to leave the house for a little while. I hardly ever feel like that. It just gets to be too much sometimes. I feel overwhelmed and underappreciated. How many times do I have to figure out a problem I didn't cause, tell Ellie that we don't hit, or clean up the sugar Harry has spilled on the counter making his coffee? Why are there days when I want to tell someone else to do it or plop Ellie in front of the TV all day so she'll chill out a little or scream my full head off at Harry because he's a fucking adult, and I shouldn't have to pick up after him? Yeah, it's been that kind of week.
My frustration shows, I know it does. And that leads to another problem all together because showing frustration is supposedly bad. Whatever. I'm only human.
I just don't understand why there are times when I can just let these things roll off my back and just keep trucking and other times when I can feel myself turning into a screeching banshee. Why is there no happy medium?
Instead, I suppress the anger. For days. For weeks. And then it all comes out in one fell swoop. I turn on Harry when I find there's toothpaste yet again on the outside of the tube, and I get it all over my fingers (yes, this happened last night). I get sarcastic and bitchy when he has forgotten, yet again, to turn off the baby monitor we use in the family room, only to have it wake me at 1am because the charge ran out and it's beeping, and all the while he sleeps peacefully next to me because a freakin' airplane landing on our front lawn wouldn't wake him (yes, this also happened last night). Eventually, every little thing that has annoyed me in the previous weeks comes flying out of my mouth in this gigantic tirade of offenses he's committed... leaving his prescription eczema cream out within Ellie's reach, leaving scissors on the counter within Ellie's reach, not closing the drawers all the way, leaving socks on the floor, etc, etc, etc. I was very close to unleashing all of this on him this morning, but again, I just suppressed it.
He throws a quick "sorry" my way when I mention the monitor waking me up and quickly moves on to another topic, my annoyance already forgotten. Yet, when I make a mistake, I fret over it because I know it's upset someone. I just don't get it. Why do I carry around all the worry and anxiety while everyone else just seems to roll with the punches? Why do I let it get to me so much?
Instead, I had a little meltdown myself this morning in front of Ellie. Hey, if she gets to have a tantrum now and again, so do I. Her constant stubbornness and selective hearing finally got to me. I pleaded with her in an oh-so-whiny voice this morning, asking why she doesn't just listen to me. Of course, she just pretended she didn't hear me. I give up.
No, not really. But getting upset because a 2-year-old keeps taking off her sunglasses and then she complains about the sun in her eyes isn't doing me any good. She's 2. This is the kind of stuff 2-year-olds do. I just wish that she could understand that I do things for her to make her happy, to make her life better, to help her when she needs it.
I think I'll stop rambling now.
Not so.
This week, instead of blah, I'm short-tempered and extremely impatient. I hate when I get like this. *I* don't want to be around me when I'm in this kind of mood. Add stress at work, Ellie's monster stubbornness, and Harry's forgetfulness to the mix, and well, it's not pretty.
I got to the point last night where I just wanted to leave the house for a little while. I hardly ever feel like that. It just gets to be too much sometimes. I feel overwhelmed and underappreciated. How many times do I have to figure out a problem I didn't cause, tell Ellie that we don't hit, or clean up the sugar Harry has spilled on the counter making his coffee? Why are there days when I want to tell someone else to do it or plop Ellie in front of the TV all day so she'll chill out a little or scream my full head off at Harry because he's a fucking adult, and I shouldn't have to pick up after him? Yeah, it's been that kind of week.
My frustration shows, I know it does. And that leads to another problem all together because showing frustration is supposedly bad. Whatever. I'm only human.
I just don't understand why there are times when I can just let these things roll off my back and just keep trucking and other times when I can feel myself turning into a screeching banshee. Why is there no happy medium?
Instead, I suppress the anger. For days. For weeks. And then it all comes out in one fell swoop. I turn on Harry when I find there's toothpaste yet again on the outside of the tube, and I get it all over my fingers (yes, this happened last night). I get sarcastic and bitchy when he has forgotten, yet again, to turn off the baby monitor we use in the family room, only to have it wake me at 1am because the charge ran out and it's beeping, and all the while he sleeps peacefully next to me because a freakin' airplane landing on our front lawn wouldn't wake him (yes, this also happened last night). Eventually, every little thing that has annoyed me in the previous weeks comes flying out of my mouth in this gigantic tirade of offenses he's committed... leaving his prescription eczema cream out within Ellie's reach, leaving scissors on the counter within Ellie's reach, not closing the drawers all the way, leaving socks on the floor, etc, etc, etc. I was very close to unleashing all of this on him this morning, but again, I just suppressed it.
He throws a quick "sorry" my way when I mention the monitor waking me up and quickly moves on to another topic, my annoyance already forgotten. Yet, when I make a mistake, I fret over it because I know it's upset someone. I just don't get it. Why do I carry around all the worry and anxiety while everyone else just seems to roll with the punches? Why do I let it get to me so much?
Instead, I had a little meltdown myself this morning in front of Ellie. Hey, if she gets to have a tantrum now and again, so do I. Her constant stubbornness and selective hearing finally got to me. I pleaded with her in an oh-so-whiny voice this morning, asking why she doesn't just listen to me. Of course, she just pretended she didn't hear me. I give up.
No, not really. But getting upset because a 2-year-old keeps taking off her sunglasses and then she complains about the sun in her eyes isn't doing me any good. She's 2. This is the kind of stuff 2-year-olds do. I just wish that she could understand that I do things for her to make her happy, to make her life better, to help her when she needs it.
I think I'll stop rambling now.
Monday, March 2, 2009
More of the white crap
This is what we woke up to this morning. It's still snowing now, and we're supposed to be getting yet another storm later on today into tonight. Lovely. At least Harry and I both called in to work, so we get to spend the day together along with Ellie. They're downstairs right now, coloring, Ellie's new favorite past time. She's got her own easel and everything.
So yay and boo for snow! I just hope it's done by tomorrow morning.
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