*Insert Expletive Here*

A few days back, I thought smashing a raw egg on my desk was worth complaining about. Well boy, did I learn my lesson today. I’d smash a dozen or more eggs, on my head yet, before repeating the beginnings of this fine Wednesday.

First of all, the power went out about 1am because there were gale force winds practically ripping our house apart. Which of course meant the Hub’s snore machine went out – a major problem for poor Apneatic Hub – and hence my problem as well. We rounded up this little battery backup thing and settled back down - but had a hard time getting back to sleep because the wind was shrieking like a swarm of premenstrual banshees.

About 2:30, Incrediboy woke up in a panic because his night-light and big blue clock were out and the wind was making scary noises. I went in and calmed him down - he wanted me to stay with him but I wasn’t into that - a.) because I don’t want to start that habit and 2.) I don’t want him to get my bug if at all possible.

“Bug?”, you say? Yes, I’m sick again. Normally I’m a pretty healthy person, but I seem to have been sick a lot lately. This time I have my boss to thank, who brought home some fresh plague from Europe and promptly shared it with the rest of the office. It’s a gnarly one, too, let me tell you. I love it.

So anyway, I finally got Incrediboy settled and went back to bed when the wind got extra feisty and freaked him out again. This time, Hub got up and went in with him, thank God. I was absolutely destroyed at this point.

What seemed like 2 minutes later my travel alarm clock went off. The power was still out. Completely exhausted, stiff and freezing half to death because our furnace runs on electric and so does the waterbed. The outside temperature plummeted a good two-score in the wake of the windstorm and our house had dropped into the 50's.

I got up to take MBDog out and the snow and wind was so bad. I hurried across the deck to unlock the gate and slipped on a big ice patch compliments of the night’s freezing rain - my feet flew out from under me and I landed square on the small of my back. I didn’t even really know what happened until I heard the sound of my own wind knocking out of me with an “UUUNH!”

I lay there for a moment on my sheet of ice, in my fuzzy robe and slippers, still clutching MBDog’s leash – watching the crystalline snow swirling above me. I thought very seriously about just letting the snow cover me and releasing my tortured soul to the heavens. But MBDog was doing his peepee dance at the gate. So I forced myself up and got moving again. I knew right away I’d feel it later, tough.

So I go back in and we're all trying to get ready by flashlight, which was fun. Eventually we got out the door, forgetting Incrediboy’s day bag. Luckily it’s Grandma Day, and we were able to whisk him in there and vamoose before he figured that out (I know what sounds mean, but at least Grandma has other blankets and toys there). Just on the commute in, I could feel my back stiffening.

I’m surviving this day, though I'm exhausted from having little to no sleep, and my stiff back has been joined by a sore wrist and kinked neck - and oh yeah, our hot water tank is electric too, and since the Hub worked on the car last night I let him take the one shower the water tank might be holding - so I've had no shower either.

I wonder if traction is covered by flexible spending accounts.

Explaining the Impossible

Men may not want to read this, and if you don't - that's fine. Just don't read it and then cry about TMI. Consider yourself warned! :) Also, don't lecture me about playing the martyr. This post isn't about martyrdom, I'm just sayin' it's difficult to explain to someone else - so zip it. ;)



Last night, my dear Hub asked me a profound question.

“What does it feel like to have a baby?”

I really had to think hard about that answer.

Now, explaining to another woman isn’t as challenging, as we all have the same – eh – structure. And if I’d refer to certain sensations in certain anatomical areas, she’d understand what I’d be talking about to a much more successful degree. But how do you describe something physical to someone who not only would never be able to experience it, but doesn’t even have the proper equipment in which to even relate?

To me, labor felt like increasingly excruciating menstrual cramps. But what feels like menstrual cramps besides menstrual cramps? So I described it as imagining really bad diarrhea cramps, but about twenty times worse, and centralized between your belly button and your – eh – peepee. Combine that with an immense and unique form of internal pressure from the inside of your pelvis, splitting those bones apart. And a burning sensation, as if the skin of your most delicate nether regions were being stretched to (and beyond) the point where it can remain intact.

Yes, I had an epidural. But it wore off mid-birth and I remember the subsequent sensations very, very well.

Did he understand the parallels I was trying to draw? I’m not sure. So I ask my women blogfriends with children, how would you describe the sensation of childbirth? Foregoing the typical “squeezing a bowling ball through a keyhole” illustrations, I mean actual comparable sensations. As if to someone who has no concept – what could they expect?

I imagine a similar dilemma would arise if I’d ask him what it feels like to be kicked in the jewels. Something that is, no matter what he would say, a sensation I’m sure I will never fully be able to grasp.

BTW, speaking of motherhood, today is my Grandma's birthday. She died in 2005, but she would be 98 today. Happy Birthday, Grandma - I miss you!

Things That Made Me Smile This Weekend

Sometimes, something completely arbitrary will just totally crack me up.

We took Incrediboy to see the new Veggie Tales movie yesterday afternoon. It was really cute and enjoyable. And one particular element just tickled me out of my shoes.

One of the characters has a thing for cheese puffs. On the troupe’s adventures, they came across a room full of cheese puffs, and this character decided to go no further – opting to bask in the sea of cheesy goodness from there on out. This turned out to be a mistake, as the cheese puffs raised up, bared large gnashing teeth, and went on attack. Naturally a change of heart took place and our cheese puff loving character rejoined his comrades – but the stampede of cheese puffs then chased our humble heroes throughout the rest of the picture.

For reasons even I don’t understand, these killer cheese puffs just made me lose it. Every time they’d show up, hopping frantically with a fierce “Ya-ya-yaaaaah!”, I’d just bust up laughing. Even now, I’m tee-heeing about it.

Why? Who knows. It’s just one of those things.

On a sweeter note, the Hub ran out to do some errands yesterday while I cleaned out Incrediboy’s closet. I had taken a break to work on a little side project at the dining room table when he came home. Incrediboy ran to greet him as he always does, and a few moments later he came back around the corner balancing in his arms a huge bouquet of purple heather, eucalyptus and 2 dozen mixed roses.

“Here, Mommy, these are for you!”

“They are? Oh, thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

Hub stood in the living room doorway, smiling, and I smiled back. As I admired them, Incrediboy proceeded to explain to me, as if he’d thought it all out very thoroughly, that the peach ("orange") roses were his, the pale pink and dark pink roses were mine, and the white roses were Daddy’s.

Which is fine by me. I don’t mind sharing them at all.

A Dog and His Boy

In a rare - and I mean rare - event, Incrediboy spent the night with Grandma on Friday for only the second time ever. Hub and I had a chance to go to a fancy dinner downtown with some associates, and then to an NHL game. The evening would run late, so a campout at Grandma's was a blessing. We slept in liesurely with Most Beautiful Dog until almost 9 the next day.

We took advantage of the boy-less Saturday morning to get Incrediboy's new bunk bed together. The sizeable new piece of furniture required a redesign of the room's layout, so after getting a quick breakfast, Hub and I headed in there to start tearing down and rearranging.

We began with clearing out many of the long outgrown baby things (like the playpen we've been using for a toybox/catchall for well over a year now) and moved on to disassembling the crib. MBDog began hovering around the room, gradually getting more and more clingy. As we had one of the four sides of the crib removed and were working on the rest, MBDog slinked into the negative space of the frame, sat down and gave us a droopy-eared, saucer-eyed, questioning look. This continued throughout the morning - MBDog becoming increasingly more solemn and troubled. I'd stop and stroke his head, asking him what was wrong. He'd just gaze at me forlornly. He looked as if he'd lost his best friend.

After a while, Hub paused thoughtfully, and said, "I wonder if he thinks we got rid of Incrediboy?"

Now there was something that hadn't occurred to me. Incrediboy never spends the night away from home unless we're all gone. And with Mom and Dad taking down the boy's "crate" - it was understandable that he might be wondering that.

Some might say that perhaps we humanize our dog too much. But I can tell you that he most definitely was extra excited to see Incrediboy walk through the door again later that day. It was really very sweet. One of God's greatest gifts - to, as a child, be loved by a dog.

Sometimes Tuesday Seems like Monday

So with the start of the new year, I'm switching from breakfasts of Christmas cookies and chocolates to more healthy alternatives again. This morning I grabbed a hard boiled egg and a yogurt on the way out the door, as I didn't have time to eat at home.

They're a simple thing, really, but I love hard boiled eggs. They're small, but they satisfy my tummy, and they taste good. Especially with a little salt and/or mustard on top of them. Mmmm. So anyway, I got my coffee and my egg and settled down at my desk. I'd picked out the biggest egg in the carton, because I'm greedy that way. Sometimes the real big ones are double yolkers, and I wondered if this was one. I picked it up and proceeded to give it a good vigorous round of cracking.

Well. I thought I'd grabbed it out of the carton marked "hard boiled", but apparently I was still half asleep. I busted a fricking raw egg all over my desk.

I'm such a butthole.

Two Sides of the Stinkbomb Coin

A recent post by the lovely and brilliant Rebecca got me thinking about movies tonight.

I'm almost embarrassed by how many movies I've seen. Despite the fact that there are several quintessential classics that I've somehow never gotten around to seeing (It's a Wonderful Life and Casablanca, for example - I've also never seen Johnny Got His Gun despite it being my absolute favorite book of all time - but anyone who reads a book before going to see the movie will tell you, you'll always be disappointed - the book is way better - but I digress ...) - I've seen a disproportionate amount of movies for a hot, voluptuous socialite fox such as myself. And I know there are SO many other things that would be a better way to spend my time. But I like the escape of a good silver screen story - and even some bad ones. What can I say? I love movies almost as much as I love music.

I used to be able to enjoy most movies even if they weren't good. At the very least I could have fun making fun of them with my husband or friends. But since parenthood was bestowed upon us, and since we are one of those couples NOT blessed with hoardes of friends and relatives fighting amongst themselves over who gets to watch our dear child for free, time on the town is a mere fraction of what it used to be - and going out to see a movie is a rare treat. And if I pay $8 to see a piece of garbage, frankly it really ticks me off now.

Have you ever seen The Truman Show? Everybody thinks this movie is brilliant. I didn't like it. At all. I was practically bored to tears! My husband is under the impression that I hate Jim Carrey because of my distaste for this movie. That's not it - I just hate this movie.

Another movie I hated was Napoleon Dynamite. This overly ripe poopball of a movie was hailed by so many of my peers as the funniest thing since Ridgemont High. Wrong. It was one of the most annoying experiences of my life sitting through that. I hung in there, thinking it would turn around, but I only ended up wishing I could have that two hours of my life back again.

I absolutely despise the Austin Powers movies. So much I'm not even going to bother elaborating. Same goes for the "cult classics" Rocky Horror Picture Show and A Clockwork Orange. UGH! Putrid wastes of celluloid.

On the other hand, there are a few movies that I seem to be the only one who liked them. I actually liked Kevin Costner's The Postman so much I've watched it 3 or 4 times (though I'd rather take a sharp stick in the eye than ever watch Waterworld again). Battlefield Earth was by no means a GOOD movie, but I did rather enjoy it despite myself. Ladykillers, which made IMDb's top 100 Worst Movies of ALL TIME list, really tickled me (though it could have something to do with my favorite actor Tom Hanks' cheeky portrayal of the main character). I was also absolutely, indescribably captured by Apocalypto - which I don't know if anyone else liked or not because I don't know another single soul who saw it besides the Hub (he also loved it - and the fact that either of us liked a subtitled movie is remarkable in itself).

So I was wondering, what movies crowned as masterpieces did you find less than palatable? And what movies branded as bombs did you actually like - even love?

Come on now - we're all friends here. You can tell us!

Commodity Oddity

I've been clenching my teeth at night lately. Hard. So hard that my jaw and face muscles hurt the next day. I got a bite guard at the store which has helped significantly. It was very distracting for a few days, but now I barely even notice it.

Interestingly, when I wake up on my own I don't seem to be clenching so hard, but when I'm awakened by, say, the alarm clock, I note that my jaws are clamped down on that bite guard tighter than a pair of channel-lock pliers.

I've been taking a new prescription the past few months, and upon doing a little research, learned that one of the side effects - which is completely unrelated to anything, it seems - is night time jaw clenching.

Huh! At least I know why I've picked up this weird reflex. You learn something new every day. :)

Because I Don't Have Enough Pains in My Butt to Worry About

It’s that time of year. When many of us propose to make these life-changing commitments with the changing of the annual calendar. I used to make resolutions every year. Then I stopped. But the past few years I’ve started again.

I accomplished one of my resolutions from last year. I seem to be on a roll! So I’m making some more, just for fun and/or self-torture. It’s what life’s all about, right?

Get back to church. This was a resolution last year, and we were going every week for most of the year. But then we slacked off in September, so I’m not counting this as accomplished. And before anyone goes off about how organized religion is a bunch of crap, I diligently sought out a no-bull, Bible believing church. No church is going to suit you perfectly unless you start it yourself, which I’m too lazy (and too dumb) to do. Despite various faults of this or that denomination, I staunchly back the concept that Christian fellowship time is better than no Christian fellowship time.

Start working out again. After many years of high impact workouts (Jazzercize, kickboxing, Tae-Bo and Turbo Jam), my knees have been giving me problems. I can’t jump and spring about and forcefully kick imaginary foes in the chops anymore without seriously paying for it in my lower joints. It sucks, because I love the feeling of power and control that these workouts give me. But alas! Youth is wasted on the young! I did start getting in to the fabulous midsectional challenges of bellydancing this past year (much to some of my friends’ amusement – shut up, Nelly), but it too fell by the wayside. I plan to get back into that again – I’m much too young to feel this dang old. Not to mention the Hub loves an hourglass girl :).

Try not to punch out any lemmings. With the presidential nomination races heading into full swing here in the very near future, this will be my most challenging resolution. Wish me luck.

Only 3 resolutions, but these should keep me plenty challenged, especially that last one.

Happy New Year!