mrtl

A Stolen Moment

Morning free time just doesn't exist here. For some reason, Bug's still asleep. I tried to wake her almost an hour ago, but she was sleeping too hard. I left her door open, but still she doesn't make a peep. No big deal. I'm relishing the moment, wishing I had some good coffee to sip while I relax with the cat lodged firmly against me, keeping my butt warm. I may have to settle for a Folgers bag, but I bet the second I get up to go downstairs, Bug shall appear with all her 2 1/2-year-old exuberance.

I think I'll take my chances.

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Update: She emerged from her Moose cocoon as I walked back upstairs. Very well-rested, happy, mellow.

Weakness

::side note tangent::
On the way to the Moms' Night Out dinner tonight, I found myself behind a car with a bumper sticker that said "More Cowbell" with a picture of a cowbell. I scrambled to find a scrap piece of paper and wrote that down, determined to remember to blog it. As it would turn out, the car belonged to one of the women I was having dinner with. Ha!
::end side note tangent::

• A glass of wine: Numbing!
• An encore of the seafood crepes: Heavenly!
• A break from the insanity of the witching hour*: Relaxing!
• Adult conversation without reminding a toddler not to poke me with her fork and to use her inside voice: Delightful!
• Music from bygone days (e.g., Cab Calloway's "The Hi-de-ho Song") and learning it's part of a 4-CD set that I will probably get on Monday: Dreamy!
• A piece of chocolate raspberry truffle cake: Deliciously guilt-inducing!

Yes, I gave in and got some cake, justifying it with the "if I deprive I shall go crazy" excuse. I envisioned coming home and squirting the rest of the chocolate syrup down my throat. Also, I've been perfect since Tuesday. I mean P.E.R.F.E.C.T. I had not eaten one unhealthy thing for more than 3 1/2 days. What snacking I've done has been on baby carrots, celery, and crackers.

Still, I was a little disturbed that my magic pink jelly bracelet wasn't strong enough to withstand the temptation. This could be a problem. Eating out could be a problem. Maybe I'll have to wear more than one magic pink jelly bracelet when I eat out to help protect me. Either way, I am reminded that I will most certainly be getting myself to the gym next week and doing what I can over the weekend.

::action tangent::
Since I've discovered that all my workout videos are VHS, and our VCR is 1) in our bedroom and 2) not connected, I'm going to look for a DVD. In the meantime, I will be including Bug in my weekend exercising; there's already so much that I plan to get done during her naptime, so I don't need the added stress. What we'll probably do tomorrow is music time while Jem is napping. Music time is SO MUCH FUN! We turn on a satellite music station (usually Tejano), grab instruments (Bug her recorder and I the xylophone), dance and play. If it's warm enough , we'll head outside for a walk. Bug's looking forward to riding her trike, and wearing Jem in the sling will help with the workout.
::end action tangent::

Oh, and yes, I did eat my leftovers when I got home. I'm so very bad.

* Jem didn't have her Frantically Insane Time of Screaming (FITS) tonight for mister mrtl. Then again, he held her for just about the entire time I was gone. Still, it was nice to have such a great evening out and not come home to a frazzled husband and screeching baby. Hoo!

p.s. to Kristine: I only got to the macro part (tripod buried somewhere in house), but the pictures didn't turn out as well as I wanted, so I'm going to try to finish the SPF assignment this weekend. I give you mad props, woman, that you actually got me to take out the instruction manual and learn something new about Snappy. That's a first.

The Sad, Sad State of Affairs

I demand ME time, so I stayed up long after Jem has stopped screaming and passed out from the exhaustion that had her too worked up to just.sleep.peacefully. It doesn't matter that I'm completely exhausted and need to get some sleep. ME time is more important. I deserve a moment to myself, dammit! I've indulged in a half glass of cabernet, some ice cream, and some wheat and cheddar crackers (don't start patting me on the back for avoiding the Girl Scout cookies, though, because those babies got their due earlier... the Dosidos and Thin Mints weren't going to stay unopened forever, you know!).

::tangent::
Vin Diesel waves hi like an overexcited three-year-old, arm extended with hand perpendicular and fingers splayed, palm swung back and forth, complete with cheesey, big fake smile. (What? He's on Letterman.)
::end tangent::

::another tangent::
For the record, our Samoas are labeled as such. I absolutely refuse to indulge the stupidity of renaming them "Caramel Delights." Fuck that. I do loves me some caramel, but it's not the caramel that makes them so delightful. It's the coconut.
::end another tangent::

What to do? I have nothing to do but work, watch stupid television and click around on the computer. I'm behind on reading blogs but lack the ability to focus on that right now.

As I click around, I discover something new about mrtland: the kinja card. Check it out! I have TWO stars! They make me feel so special even if I'm not in the top 100,000. Even better, check out the "analyze readability" link. HA! I've attributed my penchant for using easy language to my years of teaching middle school, constantly paraphrasing and dumbing down my language so the kids would understand me. All that practice paid off, folks! Nearly six years later and apparently those atrophied brain cells aren't coming back. Actually, I've gone further downhill (unless my students were this low... something to consider). According to Juicy, I write on the same level as TV guides, the Bible and Mark Twain (not such bad company, right?). Also, the rough measure of how many years of schooling it would take someone to understand the content of this blog is 3.74. Does that include kindergarten?

I'd like to think that the ease of reading here is an asset. Blogs that are too heady and complicated tend to exhaust me; there are few that I visit regularly. This is a hobby, and it shouldn't be painful.

Would someone please explain that last sentence to my stubborn side, which would sooner tape my eyelids open to catch some ME time than allow my fried brain to get some precious rest?

The Outing

Mister mrtl and I got out for several hours yesterday afternoon. We did some shopping and went out to dinner. We then headed home, but it was so early, we turned around and headed to Fred Meyer to wander around and kill more time. The plan was to get home after Bug was in bed, so as not to interrupt and throw her off.

Wouldn't you know, after my good fortune in finding the Godiva white chocolate bars at the BX Friday, I found another rare and favorite treat today? There's a Starbucks at the Fred Meyer, and we stopped there to get some hot chocolate. They had chocolate-covered graham crackers there! I haven't seen them anywhere in years now. YEARS! Oh the yumminess!

I also saw a moose today. Thanks go to mister mrtl for pointing the big boy out to me.

Now, misfit requested snow pictures a while ago, and since she just celebrated an anniversary, let's say these are a gift for that. I tried to get the mountains in, too.

Now, something else I must share with you requires a warning. This may be disturbing, and is (I feel) not appropriate for younger viewing audiences. Clear the room of them now.

Mister mrtl discovered this IN THE TOY SECTION of Fred Meyer. I couldn't believe my eyes. And for some reason, I thought of Bucky, which was the second time in as many days, since I bought my first Homie on Friday. Anyway, get a load of this. (ew - Sorry. That pun is NOT intended.) It is so wrong.

Click for larger image.

Do you SEE the handhold in the picture? Is that a SPERM whale inside?? It reads: "Squeezee Wonder Wiener" (and yes, I did correct spelling of wiener throughout my blog), "Slides, Slips, Slithers - Try to Hold It! WARNING: Choking Hazard. Small Parts. Not for children under 3 years. Do not leave out in direct sunlight." And apparently they think this is appropriate for kids 5 and up. GAH!

Big Plans

I have taken today off. Just for the hell of it. I was only a couple hours behind, which could easily be made up today and over the weekend, but there's a lot to do. There are things that I've put off for too long that are really starting to drive me crazy. This is mainly centered around clothes.

The "wonderful" maternity pants I found at Old Navy? Fuckers fall down. I'm constantly hiking them up. My bras? Let's just say the boobs have reached monstrous proportions. My regular bras are getting tight; just call me four boobs! The bras I wore while nursing Bug? They're too small. Even the bras I just bought can't be worn. The sports (aka "uniboob") bras that I wear at night, and now normally during the day, too, are no friends of the sisters; each morning I find at least one of them has battled most of her way out. With the recent cold snap, I also need more layers. (No, I no longer possess my fathers old long johns.)

I also have some baking to do. There's a Halloween party tomorrow for the mom's group, cookies for the officers' spouses', my project manager (by way of bribe for giving me a day off just for the hell of it -- what can I say? I'm too honest.), and my husband (who would do some serious pouting otherwise).

1. Sleep. (one-hour nap before hitting the mall)
2. Work a little.
3. Bake cupcakes.
4. Decorate cupcakes.
5. Shop
   1. Pants that don't fall down. (Motherhood - $16.98 - got two, plus some shirts and a sweater! yay!)
   2. Long johns / warm undergarments.
   3. Bras. (Motherhood again - $10 - loving the prices!)
   4. Comfortable shoes. (No one had my vision of the perfect shoe, except Nordstrom, who didn't have my size.)  :(
   5. Miscellaneous groceries.
6. Bake cookies.
7. Whatever else I forgot.

Hopefully I don't come home from dropping off Bug, run out of steam and sleep all day.

Update: Back from the mall and grocery store. Mister mrtl and I met up for lunch. Yummy! A benefit of an early winter is not having to take groceries home before going out to lunch.

A funny thing happened when we got home and were working on unpacking the truck. Bradley's mom pulled into her driveway across the street.

::tangent::
Like I've said, the Bradley clan seems perfectly nice, but they have a tendency to ambush us when they see us outside. (Mister mrtl has avoided yardwork before because Bradley was outside.) Bradley's mom -- let's just call her Mrs. Poole, ok? -- has dropped in after seeing me pull up, and even called one morning after seeing me return from dropping off Bug (at 8:20, within my personal Forbidden Call Time of 9p to 9a when calling someone at home), which didn't make mister mrtl too happy as he was sleeping after working a mids shift.

As nice as they seem, we're not particularly interested in getting all chummy with neighbors. A nice, friendly atmosphere is all good; hanging out together is something different. Mrs. Poole has already brought up having us over for dinner.
::end tangent::

So I'm at the garage door, having dropped my mall bags inside. Mister mrtl is at the back of the truck unloading the groceries. I say, "Honey! Hurry!" and we go into 2-Stooge rush mode, tripping over each other, dropping bags and running for the house. Mister mrtl hits the garage door closer, but the truck hatch is still up, so I have to trip back down to shut it. If she called to us, we didn't hear her.

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Time for a shower and baking.

~*~*~*~

Today on "Martha"

Damitol! Martha was preempted today by Scooter Libby. If I had known, I would have set the DVR to record the later replay on TLC. Fuckers.

There are some cool costume ideas that I missed. See Martha's site for pictures and instructions (there are several pages). I LOVE LOVE LOVE the bubble wrap jelly fish. I'll be saving that baby for... well, for sometime when we're not in Alaska because it's too damned cold up here for that.

Free Gas

(No, fuckers didn't call back today. I called but had to leave a message, and they still didn't get back to me.)

Got out tonight. Bunco. Met a riot. No, really. Preggers, too, we took a bathroom break together. She complained about being really gassy tonight. As we washed our hands, she leaned over and farted. Seeing my shock, she says, "Oh, I'm so sorry, but that felt sooooo gooood!" She then talked about how she was so happy they weren't smelling, because she's been floating them all night.

Later, after switching tables during the game, she sat next to me and asked if I was on her team. When I told her I wasn't, she lifted her cheek and farted. In my general direction. I peed my pants a little, and ran to the bathroom yelling, "Ghost me!" to my partner.

I haven't been farted on since I was a little kid and my brother would abuse me thusly. Nor I have been in the presence of a woman (or any female besides my daughter) who farted with such relentless abandon.

There was talk of tailgating Bunco and margarita parties. One of the women said she makes some killer slippery nipples and hot toddies.

Suddenly my impression of the spouses' club is very different. Fuck class.

Strugglin'

Too many decisions to make.

Today is "Name Your Car Day." I can't think of anything. Tomorrow is "Personal Theme Song" Day for Motif Monday. I can't think of anything for that either.

ha! Writing wins! The truck shall be called Boo. Boo Tuck. Bug's already named her.

The song... much more personal. I can't ask for help on it.

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HA! Check this out! (We'll see how well it does. I have yet to use it.) Screw that. They want contact information to call you with solicitations. Oh well. Maybe not. There was a little button underneath to skip that stuff. They gave me a theme song. I'll save it for tomorrow.

Travel

Having a kid has cramped my style. Here I was, thinking I could easily write about a longed-for trip. I could readily dream about a road trip or an exciting vacation. Not happening. Instead I'm bogged down with thoughts on the issues a trip would create in leaving a kid behind, or traveling with a kid. It's terribly reminiscent of teaching. The idea of having time off was a dream, but actually taking time off and the preparations necessary to do so were pure hell.

In order to write anything about this topic, then, I'll have to suspend disbelief.

So my clone comes over and takes over Bug duty so we can get away. We're hooked up with transporting capabilities, so I can check in whenever I want.

Now I just have to figure out where to go. There are so many places I want to see, or go back to, but I've been so lazy these days. Suspend disbelief on that, too? Meh. Maybe some other time.

Lazy woman's trip: 2-week cruise in the Mediterranean. Back to the clone for amendments. Let's say she has taken over the baby-making duties, too. That way I can have all the frozen, fruity, rummy drinks with little umbrellas and cherries that I want. She can also have all the extra weight and some to spare since it's getting colder up here. That will leave me with a bathing-suitable body for the boat. She can also have all skin-burning properties, so I can have all the sun I want without it affecting me at all. And I suppose mister mrtl will need a clone of his own to stay home with all his complaints about going on a cruise.

This is getting stupid.

I've been considering mister mrtl's offer to get away for a few days to who knows where. The thought of taking a little vacation alone, though... WTF? When my college roommate shafted me to go camping one weekend with her boyfriend, I headed up to Niagara Falls by myself, staying overnight, being a tourist and taking lots of pictures. Where has my sense of adventure gone in the last 12 years?

Maybe I need to redo this little writing activity, trying the suspended disbelief on my outlook. Maybe later.

next week's topic: doubt

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Did you participate? Let me know in comments!

eclectic, Kalki, ieatcrayonz, Nina, Susie

Deep, Cleansing Breaths

Last night was great! First let me tell you what didn't happen:

1. No overload of talk about kids.
2. No bitching about husbands.
3. No recipes exchanged.
4. No snarkiness.

You don't know how important this is, because typically it's all that happens with some of the other moms I experience.

What did happen:

1. Conversation at dinner better than the food.
2. Met five women I'd be happy to hang out with again.
3. Discovered that one of the women is a Passion Party consultant. Yee and haw!
4. An hour wait for a movie resulted in some more great conversation.
5. Learned specifically how a Brazilian wax is done. GAH!
6. The 40-Year-Old Virgin instead of karaoke.

Definite margarita buddy material seen here. Isn't that all that matters? ;)

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On another matter, I've decided not to go out for Self-Indulgent Saturday/Sunday. I've donated a chunk of change to the Manilow Fund (see last post for details) and will instead set up an oasis of self-indulgence in my bedroom. This shall include a long bubble bath, some reading, a manicure and pedicure (courtesy the load of Avon products gifted by my mother), a movie, and whatever else comes to mind, with the door SHUT. What's missing is dinner. Brownies are out since I ate the last one earlier. hmmmmm... There is always pie.

Meeting of the Moms

A few weeks ago I discovered a message board for moms in the area and signed up. While most of their get togethers are during the day, they have some regular afternoon outings and plan to do more (including Bunco, which I missed last night on base).

Tonight is Moms' Night Out. I initially didn't sign up to go because they were going to a fancy restaurant out of town, something I was not up for in light of current events. Turns up she who made the reservations felt the same way, so it was changed to another restaurant downtown. A Japanese restaurant. Say no more!

The plan is to eat, then go to a karaoke place afterwards. Now I'm not down with karaoke, but have no problem going and being witness to people making asses of themselves, whether they're in my party or not.

~~~~

Meanwhile...

...mister mrtl is a prisoner in his own home. After realizing that we've neglected the mailbox for days (huzzah for locked boxes!), he grabbed his key to go and get the mail... until he realized that our Skyler-type neighbor is out there.

I haven't talked about this kid... I'll call him Bradley. Bradley is one of those kids who for some reason or another never learned to socialize with kids his age. It's apparent from his language that he talks mostly with adults. Example? Ok. One day there's a knock at the door. It's Bradley. Here's a recreation of our conversation.

Bradley: Well, hello! I'm stopping by because it appears that a piece of your mail -- the piece that I have here in my hand -- is actually yours. I say this because, as you can see, it has your address on it: 665. Our address is 666, but that's not on this piece of mail. I found it in our mailbox, that's mailbox number 6.

mrtl: Yep, Bradley, that's definitely ours. Thanks for bringing it over! ::closing door as quickly as possible because he freaks me out::

Mister mrtl has had several run ins with Bradley, which explains his desire to avoid him as much as possible. Something about a 10-year-old kid (I'm guessing the age) who sidles up on him when he's in the garage and greets him with something like, "Howdy neighbor!" or "Can I assist you with those boxes?" has a way of disturbing him, I suppose.

To be continued.