When I was growing up, my immediate neighborhood had a handful of kids my age.  Within one block there were three boys and a girl with whom I spent many a summer night climbing trees and playing baseball.

One of the boys was a good friend and I spent a lot of time at his house.  He introduced me to Monty Python and he had a one-eyed, guinea pig.  No, that's not a euphemism.

I had so much fun at his house.  I played his keyboard (oh my goodness, NOT a euphemism!), we battled at bumper-pool and there was a time, or two hundred, when we played video games.  Geekdom rules!

Fast forward to high school where one of my best friends was a boy.  I hung out at his house so much that when he moved away for good after high school, I still hung out with his mom all the time.  She and I used to have playdates for my daughter and her granddaughter.

I had another really good male friend during college, a group of men with whom I used to work that I'm still close to and, of course, there's my ultimate best friend...my husband.  He has been with me through highs, lows, trauma, drama, thick and thin.  Mostly thick, if we're discussing my thighs anyway.  Oh, and blogging; he's been with me through that too.  He also pays our mortgage.  He's a friend with all kinds of benefits.

Every one of these guys are people that I could see for the first time in years and pick up right where we left off.  There is no judging each other about the way we look, or what kind of moms we are, or feeling guilt because our house isn't clean and theirs is, and they're the head of the PTO and just made a craft and cupcakes and let their daughter have a slumber party where Supermom blended up cauliflower and put it into the punch, but the kids don't even know they're drinking vegetables!  Men don't care.  I'm pretty sure they're lacking the superficiality gene.  Because, there totally is one.

I am lucky that I have a husband who trusts me and understands that I like beer and football as much as I like home decorating and flowers.  He has a girl-friend (that's a friend, who's a girl) who goes to hockey games with him, because she loves hockey.  I don't.
 
I feel more comfortable that he's hanging out with her than with a lot of guys I know.  No offense, fellas.

And, if you are offended and feel like you need to argue that men and women can't be friends, then me and my male, blogging bestie will take you down.  That's right.  Downtown, Buster Brown.

Photo courtesy of Angry Julie.  Word.

Either that, or I'll squish you with my chin(s).

Labels: Bllissdom, Friends, Getting to Know Me, My Better Half, Photos, Ramblings, Socializing

Since I started working over 40 hours a week, my husband has taken over some of the household duties.  Yesterday, he did the grocery shopping.  It kind of made my heart melt.

His greatest assistance has come with the takeover of getting the eight year old to bed.  Most of my work is done in the evening, so while I am clicking away on my computer my husband deals with the stall-tactics, the decision of which book and stuffed animal to take to bed and the newest thing to throw a wrench into the routine...SpongeBob mouthwash.

My husband has managed, after a long day at work, to turn this time into something fun.  There are races to the top of the steps, shoulder rides and the Mom's-chest-pain-inducing-toss-the-tiny-kid-onto-the-bed-from-across-the-room-adventure.

So with all of these shenanigans, it was no surprise the other night to hear my son declare, "Daddy!  Let's play the opposite game."  My husband was quick to oblige.

I laughed as I listened to them go back and forth, with my husband telling our son to, "Hold your pee", "Put your clothes on" and "Don't brush your teeth".

My son answered all yes-questions with a firm, "No" and everything that should have been a denial was met with a jolly, "Yes!"

As usual, my husband had turned bedtime into something giggle inducing.

After a few minutes, I heard my husband say, "Okay, buddy.  Don't say goodnight to your mother."

Which is when the game came to an abrupt halt.

Because as I climbed the stairs to meet my son halfway, he greeted me with a smile and outstretched arms for a big nighttime hug and he said, "Good morning, Mom.  I hate you so much."


**There are still a few days to enter my $100 Visa giftcard giveaway from BlogHer, sponsored by Welch's.  Stop by my review blog for your chance to win!**

Labels: Family Life, Kids, My Better Half, Shameless Statements

Labels: Family Life, Happy Holidays, My Better Half, Photos, Shameless Statements

While returning home from a family dinner the other night, my 11 year old daughter suddenly spoke up from the back seat.

She asked, "Hey Dad, what's the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?"

My husband peered out at the night sky and thought aloud, "Hmmm...".

Then my son offered his unsolicited opinion when he said, "I know!  It was probably when he married mom."

Labels: Family Life, Kids, My Better Half, Shameless Statements

1.  If your husband spends his Sunday morning running a marathon and you spend the same Sunday morning chasing him around the city, with two kids and you hold an eight year old on your shoulders for an hour, you will both be sore.

2.  If you're driving to and from mile markers for hours, you will have to stop at Tim Horton's for breakfast and Wendy's for lunch.  You know, out of necessity.  Your husband, on the other hand, will run 26.2 miles on two bananas and some peanut butter crackers.

3.  When you spend 45 minutes creating a great sign that says things like, "Keep it up!" and "Be strong!", don't be surprised if your son sees your finished project and decides that your sign is the perfect paper on which to stamp a pink butterfly.

4.  Don't be shocked when you walk nine blocks to your viewing spot and as soon as you arrive, your son tells you he has to poop.

5.  Which is why you should always store a training potty and kitty litter bags in the back of your SUV.

6.  Then you will count your blessings that your eight year old is still small enough to use it.

7.  Much in the same way that when you have been playing in the ocean, you can later close your eyes and still feel the waves...when you watch a marathon full of people go by, you will later close your eyes and see runners.

8.  When your husband approaches the finish line and your daughter sneaks through the fence to run the last stretch with him, you will feel so much pride that your heart might burst.

9.  Then you'll watch your husband complete his race to the sound of applause and cheers of the crowd.

10.  And you will listen, then cringe, as the race announcer mispronounces his name.

Labels: Kids, My Better Half, Random Realizations

The other night we were visiting with a friend during dinner at his house, when my eight year old son jumped into the conversation and called our 39 year old friend by his first name.  It was something along the lines of, "Sure, Chad."

Although we allow the kids to call our oldest friends by their first name, we have a rule that most people go by Mr. or Mrs. followed by their last name.  It keeps things easy and consistent.

My husband quickly corrected our boy and said, "You need to address adults as Mr. or Mrs., buddy.  It shows respect."

And, as our son turned to leave the room he rolled his eyes at his dad, let out a big sigh and said, "Whatever, Mike."

Labels: Family Life, Kids, My Better Half, Shameless Statements

Soon to be starring in the feature film Snakes on a Head.

I clearly recall, that a few hours later, we made the trip into the basement of the church. I sat down and made a declaration to everyone within earshot. "Things WILL go wrong today. If the ring bearer wants to break-dance down the aisle, fine. If someone passes out, we'll deal with it. If my ex-boyfriend shows up and starts shooting people...well, that's really going to suck.

And, you know what? Other than the snakes on my head, everything went beautifully. True perfection. I had the most wonderful time, had great conversations with old family and I spent the afternoon saying thanks to everyone who had helped deliver us our dream wedding.

I'm glad that our day started out a little strange, because it showed us what marriage would be like. Some days are dreamy and fun, but other days are Pop-Tarts and Medusa. Some days are both. You work with what you are given.

Happy Anniversary to the guy who has stayed by my side through all of these crazy years. Through sickness and health (mostly sickness), thick and thin (mostly thick), brown and blonde. I love you.

I wouldn't want to share Pop-Tarts with anyone else.

Labels: My Better Half, Ramblings

My husband made me cry last week. The kind of crying that makes your lip quiver and your heart hurt. The kind of crying that leaves you shaken.

In a totally good way.

We were enjoying a Pearl Jam concert when we heard the first few notes of the song, "Given to Fly". I threw my fist into the air, as any good rocker would, and I smiled because it's one of my favorites. Then my husband leaned into my back, laid his hands on my shoulders and put his mouth next to my ear before saying, "This song reminds me of our son."

The tears were immediate.

See, if you haven't known my boy from the day he was born, you don't know how far he has come. People who meet him now don't know that he barely made it through his first year. People who meet him now don't know what a fighter he truly is.

They don't know that when he makes me laugh, it is a hearty laugh because I never knew if I would hear him speak. Or, when he completes his math homework that I want to burst with pride because I didn't know if he would ever be able to hold a pencil, let alone comprehend the problems.

They can't look inside his chest and see his mangled heart or his stomach which often can't hold its contents. They can't look into his eyes and know that he could rarely open his right eye until it was repaired surgically. They see a little kid, but I see an amazing human being who is living proof that you can't judge a book by its cover.

A wave came crashing like a fist to the jaw
Delivered him wings, "Hey, look at me now"
Arms wide open with the sea as his floor
Oh, power, oh
He's...flying
Whole...

He floated back down 'cause he wanted to share
His key to the locks on the chains he saw everywhere
But first he was stripped and then he was stabbed
...well...he still stands

And sometimes is seen a strange spot in the sky
A human being that was given to fly

Today my son turns eight years old. Happy birthday, child. Fly high.

Labels: Kids, My Better Half, Prematurity, Ramblings

Have you ever been on the phone with the resolution department of your health insurance company for the fifth time in five days, and you are trying to explain how your husband's former company left you high and dry, without insurance for 33 days, which is the same 33 days in which your husband tore his calf muscle, you had a sinus infection, your son had an ear infection and your daughter got $406 worth of immunizations, and while you're on the phone your son starts crying because he doesn't understand his math homework, and your daughter keeps tapping you on the shoulder no matter how many times you put your finger in the air to signify that she needs to wait a minute and she ignores you and keeps asking, "Can I have some grapes?", and then the dog starts throwing up and you look in the other room to see your husband sitting on the couch playing the Wii?

Yeah. Me too.

Labels: My Better Half, Question of the Day, Ramblings

1. When spring rolls around with her warm breezes and gentle rain, and the air outside is rich with the scent of lilacs, my old house starts to smell like wet dog and rotten wood.

2. When school softball, summer softball, track, baseball, going away parties, graduation parties and weddings all start to overlap, I begin to think I should increase my dosage of Zoloft.

3. Throw in a spring musical and it's time to get my Ambien refilled too.

4. But, taking Ambien makes me get on Twitter and say things like this: 'There is missional impossible musci blarking behind my head and it makes me want to put on black leggies and snaek around nmy houser'.

5. And, this: 'Now t here 's a baby crying and it's making my ovaries hurt. If I start lactating, that will just be weired'.

6. Then people named AmbienRehab start following me on Twitter.

7. My family likes to spend time playing the Wii together, but Super Mario Bros. was invented by someone with a sick and twisted view of family togetherness.

8. My son jumps around on his Hippity-Hop so much that he looks like he has a permanent, blue hemorrhoid.

9. If you go to a wine tasting and the Sommelier starts talking about "shoulders" in your wine, you may think you drank too much.

10. And, if your husband hasn't had dinner and attends the same wine tasting, he may eat half a cheeseball made of Jarlsberg cheese.

11. So when next year's invitation doesn't arrive, we shouldn't be all that surprised.

Labels: Family Life, House of Horrors, Insomnia, My Better Half, Ramblings, Random Realizations

My husband's birthday was Tuesday. One of his favorite meals is beef stroganoff made from a family recipe. It's the same stroganoff he ate when he was growing up and since he's creeping up on 40, I thought it best to try and make him feel like a kid again. Also, does anyone else feel that I'm aging myself by talking about stroganoff? Oh good, everyone then.

After work on Tuesday, I managed to straighten up the house, wrap presents and make dinner. My husband got off work early so he could celebrate with the kids before an evening meeting and once 6:00 pm rolled around, the whole family was hungry and the table was set for a nice, family meal.

Until my son sat down, saw my creation and said, "Ew! Throw up!"

Labels: Family Life, How to Lose Readers, Kids, My Better Half, Photos, Shameless Statements

American Idol is one of the few shows we watch as a family. My son loves giving the singers a "thumbs up" or a "thumbs down" and my daughter likes it when Joe Jonas shows up.

But, ever since my husband called this contestant Clark Kent, I can't see the forest for the trees.

Which is to say...I can't get past her face to hear her voice.

Labels: My Better Half, My TV Addiction, Reality TV

A few weeks ago, I pulled a back muscle when I was lifting a case of water. What? Water is heavy. And, sloshy. After it happened, I told my boss that you never realize how much you use your back until you can't use it anymore.

On Wednesday night my husband suffered a grade 3 rupture of his gastrocnemius, which is a fancy way of saying he badly tore a big muscle in his calf. He was shooting hoops when it happened. Okay, not so much shooting hoops as he was coaching fifth-grade, girl's basketball. What? Dribbling around 11 year old girls is hard. Especially if you're 38.

Since then, he has been on crutches and unable to do much. And, let me just say that you never realize how much you use your husband until you can't use him anymore.

Every single morning, rain, shine, sleet or snow (in Ohio, it's mostly the rain, sleet and snow part) he walks our dogs. The 11 year old Labrador could probably survive without her daily jaunt, but there is no doubt that she is in such great shape because of my husband, so we like to keep her active.

However, the one year old Labrador, Daisy, needs this exercise. She needs it like I need water, and air and beer.

Every day, my husband walks three miles with the dogs. They run off-leash most of that distance and likely cover twice the ground he does. Then Daisy comes home with her thick tail whacking everything in its path, she grabs a toy, slobbers on my jeans and looks at me as if to say, "I'm just getting warmed up, lady. Let's play!"

Thanks to my husband's injury, for the past four days I have been walking the dogs. If you can call it that. It's more like getting pulled down to the park, letting them off-leash, then running 200 yards through shin-deep snow, in my big, clunky snow boots, to get Daisy because she has run off to steal another dog's ball.

It is exhausting and after only four days, my body is sore. My left hand is blistered, my ribs feel bruised, I have shin splits and my thigh muscles are like jello. It's a workout like none other.

I'm actually kind of hoping that I rupture my gastrocnemius.

Labels: Creature Features, My Better Half, Ramblings

It's not what you think.

His mother isn't my mother and his father isn't my father. We aren't related, by blood, in any way.

However, I am married to a man who is the ultimate competitor. A man who always has to be right. And, of course, there is the teasing and knowing just what will drive me crazy...and doing all of those things on purpose. More than anything, there is his enjoyment of doing anything "kid-like".

On Saturday, we took the kids sledding. Did I anticipate that my husband would come up behind me, tackle me to the ground and then shove snow in my face? Or, that he would put himself on a toboggan with two kids in order to be the heaviest, and therefore the fastest, sled on the hill?

Did I realize that he would make our SUV do doughnuts on the ice in the empty parking lot until our daughter was car sick?

Did I know that if I asked him whether he was going to smack his gum for the entire car ride that his reply would be, "Only if it irritates you"?

I should have.

My husband is kid in a 38 year old body. Don't get me wrong, he's responsible and he works hard, but he would rather spend the day having light saber fights with our son, or taking our daughter to see Avatar in 3-D while I stay home with the grumpy seven year old, a barking puppy and an old dog with a bladder infection. Not that I'm bitter about it.

In all honesty, I love it. My husband is the reason that our kids are kids. He is the one who plans the trips to amusement parks, takes them for bike rides and forces me out of the house on the coldest day of the year to listen to our children giggle on the sledding hill.

He is the person who took our children on a wild ride down the street on a furniture dolly that he pulled with a moving strap. He is the guy who took us fishing and had the patience to load the lines on all the reels, then redo every one of them when we (okay, I) managed to tangle them on our first casts.

He took our 11 year old daughter on a zipline canopy tour through the forest, he has gone skydiving and white water rafting and done all the things that I am too scared to do. My husband is instilling his adventurous spirit and enthusiasm for life in our children.

And if that means I have to put up with some gum smacking, then bring on the bubble gum.

Labels: Family Life, My Better Half

My mom is known for being ever-so-slightly off on her pronunciation of certain words. Home Depot isn't pronounced, "Home DEEP-oh" but, "Home DEP-oh". "Nickolodeon" is "Nickolode-UM". And once, when someone was talking about the song "Back in Black", Mom started singing, "I want my baby back, baby back, baby back...". You know, the Chili's song.

It turns out that my seven year old son takes after his grandmother. Most noticeably, when he calls his AquaDoodle a "croc-a-doodle" or when he says, "I love you as big as the whole, wide wheeled".

But yesterday, he was more than just a little off. As my husband was eating popcorn my son looked into the bottom of the bowl and saw the leftover kernels, then he looked at his dad and asked, "Are you going to eat those pimples?"

Labels: Family Life, Kids, My Better Half, Shameless Statements

I have been known to do unusual things after taking Ambien. What is remarkable about these things is that I often have no recollection of them. Luckily I don't eat, drive or call people. Shout out to my big sister! Put down the phone Trish!

Mostly, I just write. As it turns out, I did some of that last night. I vaguely remember penning notes to my two children and to my husband before I went to bed. I know they were love notes, left for them to read when they woke up. If you had asked me what those notes said this morning, however, I would have been clueless.

So sometimes there are brief remembrances about the previous evening, but not always. I logged on to Twitter today, and had absolutely no memory of leaving this update last night:


A hallucinating, crazy woman in the bed and a woman with legs made of turkey behind the door.

My husband is one lucky guy.

Labels: Insomnia, My Better Half

My seven year old son was playing around at bedtime recently, when I heard my husband yell up to him, "Quit goofing off and go night-night!"

I stopped what I was doing and took note of the moment, because I was certain that my husband hadn't said, "night-night" in years and that it would likely be the last time he uttered those words with one of our kids.

I suddenly wondered; when did we stop saying that? Words like night-night, binky and blankie are now but distant memories.

When did my son stop calling me, "Mama" and start calling me "Mommy"? When did my daughter stop calling me "Mommy" and start calling me "Mom"? And, when did she stop calling me "Mom" and start calling me "Hmmph" with an accompanying eye-roll?

These moments fly by, as much of life does, without us even taking notice. I, for one, am too busy cleaning the kitchen or picking up dirty socks to document anything but the big stuff.

I have photos of pre-school graduations and videos of talent shows. I have programs from Christmas plays and boxes full of artwork but, how are you supposed to note the last time your child referred to the dog as a "doggie"?

Hearing my husband call up to our son made me aware that those moments had passed us by. One minute my daughter was eating jars of food she called "num-num" and the next she's bringing home division-of-decimals-by-whole-numbers homework.

And if there's anything that makes you wish your kids were still saying things like "night-night", it's that.

Labels: Family Life, Kids, My Better Half, Ramblings

1. When you are celebrating your 12th anniversary, it is a good idea to take a road trip with your husband so the two of you can reconnect without the kids or the dogs around.

2. But, you may find that you are so tired because of insomnia which has plagued you for 11 of those 12 years, that you will sleep the entire way to your destination.

3. Which seriously prevents that reconnecting stuff.

4. When your husband stops near the hotel and asks where he can find a carry-out, you may be surprised to find yourself looking for a place called The Whore House. And, when you see it's actually named The Pour House, and that your husband misheard, you'll feel a lot better about spending your money there.


5. Staying in a nice hotel and taking a bubble bath in a jacuzzi tub with no kids around, will seem a like a little slice of heaven.

6. Seafood buffets in the Midwest can be really good and even though eating oysters on the half-shell in Indiana will seem insane, you will do it anyway.

7. Splurging on a seafood buffet the night before your anniversary means you will eat Burger King for lunch on your actual anniversary.

8. When you get home, even though it's been a decade since you last saw it, your husband won't want to watch your wedding video again.

9. Instead you'll sit in your regular spot on the love seat and look over at him in his regular spot on the couch.

10. Then you'll hope for many more years of seeing him right there.

Labels: My Better Half, Ramblings, Random Realizations

My family has always used Portuguese words when referring to things you wouldn't want other people to hear you say in public. Mainly, this is done for private body parts and private body functions.

Though a Brazilian neighbor of my sister recently told us we were pronouncing almost everything incorrectly, and that the endearing phrase we use with our toddlers doesn't sound as sweet when you find out that we are not saying, "Come here and let me pinch your behind." Instead we are saying, "Come here and let me pinch your ass."

My husband has accepted this odd vernacular, with the exception of a couple of "boy parts". Instead of using (mangled) Portuguese, he has taught our seven year old son to say, "balls" as if the kid has morphed into a 45 year old Italian. It's like having a miniature Marlon Brando standing in my living room. "Mom, the lining of my sailboat bathing suit is really hurting my BAWLZ."

But last week, things changed a little. At the cabin where we were vacationing, there was a hot tub. My husband explained that it isn't okay for boys to spend time lounging in a hot tub because the extreme temperature can hurt the "little babies" he has inside him.

When we said there were babies our son took us literally. Though he didn't grasp the concept that there were millions of them, but instead assumed that each testicle was a child. He even named them. Racer and Jennifer. I spent an entire evening trying to get him to understand that Racer and Jennifer would not come out when he pees.

The next day, we were at the pool when my husband noticed our son had stopped swimming and was talking to a woman sitting on the edge. She kept looking over her shoulder at us and smiling. Eventually, I called to him, "Go back to swimming and let that nice lady relax."

The woman turned and waved. Then she said, "It's okay! He's telling me about his babies."

Labels: Family Life, Kids, My Better Half, Shameless Statements

I am currently with my husband and two kids in a place we lovingly refer to as the "boogie woods". We are deep in the hills of southern Ohio, where there is (egads) no wi-fi. What withdrawal? I am typing this from our cabin rental office. What blog addiction? Thank goodness we're heading home soon. I'm starting to itch.

Before our trip to the hills, we spent two days together at an amusement park. If the four of us haven't been in the car, we've either been in a little hotel room or in a very small, A-frame cabin.

Yesterday, we all took a canoe trip. Four of us, four paddles, four life-jackets, two fishing nets and a cooler in one boat. It was togetherness at its finest.

After about a half hour on the river, we noticed storm clouds rolling in and thunder started rumbling. We luckily found a concrete bridge under which we took shelter while pounding rain came down around us.

While we waited for the storm to pass, the kids began to get restless. I tried to think quickly and said, "Why don't we play a game? Let's go through the alphabet and take turns coming up with words that have to do with our vacation." My husband was at the back of the canoe, so I told him to go first.

He replied, "Okay. A is for arguing."

Labels: Family Life, My Better Half, Ramblings