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Because he loves going to pubs to watch sports games… not with the boys, but with ME!
He rubs my feet every single night.
He carries the kids from the living room to the bedroom every single night at bedtime. Even though I am sure he is in ample amounts of pain by the time he gets to kid #4… or maybe even #2…
He loves all kids.
He loves all vampires.
He cannot follow even the simplest plot line on a TV or Movie. This makes me look like a freakin’ genius — especially if I actually PREDICT the ending, which I have taken to writing down and putting in an envelope to be opened after the finale so as to not ruin it for him.
He can do Calculus but struggles with dividing up a single quesidilla amongst 5 kids.
He never ever yells… at anyone.
He calls Emme “Sweet Girl” and there in no one she would rather be with than him.
He has amazing blue eyes, killer biceps, and a sexy jawline.
He tries harder than anyone I know.
He loves 80′s power ballads. Especially, “My Heart Will Go On” from the Titanic soundtrack. Could I even make that up?
He can turn the simplest conversation into a science lesson.
He learned to love baseball just for me.
He is deeply kind.
He works two demanding jobs so I can stay home with the kids.
He loves me not in spite of my cantankerous side but because of my cantankerous side.
His favorite students are the ones on the fringe, the ones who have lost hope in school… and then he wins them over.
That even though he turned 39 yesterday, he thinks he can pull-off looking like he is in his mid-20′s by donning a hat and baggy shorts.
Happy Birthday, honey, I love you!
I worried that I have completely emasculated my husband. True, he’s a TAD bit hen-pecked. But I may have gone too far this time. So, a while back I read that running a gas lawn mower for one hour has the equivalent impact on the environment as 40 cars idling in traffic for the same amount of time. Well, being from the Northwest where being green is a requirement for citizenship, this freaked me out. So, when we were in the market for a new lawn mower, I made the unilateral decision that we would get an electric mower. I remember standing in Home Depot and Dave had this sort of defeated look on his face. The look said, “Is this the battle I want to fight, because I have to pick them carefully….” to which I responded with this look, “40 cars, Dave, 40 freaking cars….” and we went home with the electric mower.
But the sad truth is we both hate the lawn mower. I hate it because I miss that loud, growling noise each time the lawn is mowed. I mean, the sound of a running lawn mower screams, “SUMMER” and is just so “cool.” It’s like the yard work equivalent of a Harley Davidson. You know what I mean. But, frankly, our electric lawn mower sounds like a sewing machine. And I hate to sew. I think Dave hates it for mostly the same reasons — but he would define it thus: It’s a wimpy lawn mower. Don’t get me wrong, it works and gets the job done (when it actually gets used…more on that it a sec.) but it screams “Girlie-Man” like nobody’s business. It doesn’t help that you have to trail a cord behind you as you mow – or that one of the wheels always falls off.
What have I done?
So, because we have the world’s stupidest lawn mower, our lawn is almost never mowed. Which is another reason why I hate this mower.
Here you can see that the indentities of the innocent are being protected. No one wants to be associated with this yard.
This is the situation that has developed in our yard. In our own defense, we are not big yard work people to begin with, but our yard was designed by the world famous Jamie Durie – who, I might add, is anything but a girlie man. But you would never know that our lawn was professionally landscaped — all due to our lawnmower. I think it is my fault. Well, mine and the environment’s.
Tuesday, June 15th started off pretty well….
5:30am – Dave leaves to get to his 7:30am job interview in city located 25 minutes south.
7:00am – Emme wakes up a bit early, so I choose to forgoe my early shower (afterall, grandma is in town so I will have time later!).
7:20am – Stumble downstairs. Jade is all ready for school and Ty and Emme and Grandma are all waking up slowly in the living room. I grab a cup of coffee and settle in for what should be a nice, well-planned day. I say a little prayer for Dave that his interview goes well.
7:59am – Jade leaves for school.
But then…
8:00 am – Ty informs me that he played a joke on daddy and has hidden daddy’s keys. What? Where?
8:01am – Ty reveals Dave’s work keys to the school and classroom, plus his ID badge. I have an “a ha” moment about the remark last night when Dave said, “I can’t find my keys.”
8:03am – Text Dave, “Ty hid yr keys. We have them here if U need them.”
8:05am – Dave calls to inform me that they moved his interview back to 9:15am and that he is on his way home to get his keys. I do mental math (not my strong point, by the way) and realize by the time he gets home, he will have only about 10 minutes before he will need to get back into his car and head back to his interview.
8:07am- Izzy asks me, “Will you flat iron my hair for 6th grade graduation today?” Yes, go get flat iron and plug it in in Jade’s bathroom where there is more counter space.
8:08am – Load Izzy and Lily’s fancy dresses into garbage bags because it has started pouring down rain.
8:10am – Izzy and I head down to bathroom to work on her hair. Ty trails behind us to watch.
8:11am – Ty touches the hot part of the flat iron. Screams, “I touched it on accident!!!!!” I pick him up and run to the other bathroom because Jade’s sink backs up really easily. Run finger under cold water for several minutes. Carry sobbing 5 year old to kitchen and put on bandaid. Hold him. Carry him back to Jade’s bathroom
8:15am – Dave arrives home. Ty runs from bathroom to get a hug from Daddy. I begin flat ironing hair.
8:19am – Flat ironed hair looks pretty darn good.
8:20am – Walk down the hallway and question Dave’s outfit choice for interviewing. I run upstairs to the closet to see if I can do better. I can’t.
8:22am – Return downstairs to Ty and Emme screaming in Dave’s arms. Loudly. I don’t ask.
8:23am – I sit on big chair and go into an alternate universe where they have unicorns.
8:26am – Microwave my coffee and take my first sip.
8:29am – Dave starts to leave, but kids are still screaming. I got it, I say. Just go. Oh, and good luck on your interview.
8:30am – Ty tackles me on the big chair. Cries some more. I use deep breathing techniques to get him to relax. Emme decides to walk around the living room with a dishtowel over her head and discovers that this can cause her to run into things.
8:35am – Izzy and Lily (remember them?) gather stuff to get ready for school.
8:45am – Neighbor girl shows up to pick up Izzy and Lily and they head out the door.
And to wrap it all up…
8:45am to 1:15pm – a short hiatus where I debrief Dave’s interview, finally get my shower, throw in a load of laundry, eat breakfast, fix lunch, put Emme down for a nap, put on nice clothes for aforementioned 6th grade graduation, pack a snack and camera for the afore aforementioned graduation, help grandma pack a picnic for upcoming swim meet, watch Ty’s “battle show” on TV.
2:00 to 5:30pm – All 8 of us (including Grandma Bloo) attend a 90 minute 6th grade graduation where Emme tries to steal the show multiple times by shouting “YA YA” at the top of her lungs and performing 1 year old dance moves to all the music from the slideshow. Then Grandma, Dave, and I put hands in a circle and yell “BREAK” and run in three different directions. Me to dentist with Jade and Ty, Grandma to swim meet with Izzy and Lily, Dave to home with Emme. We exchange seven texts and four phone calls between us — none while driving — and I finally arrive home before the rain starts up again only to read an email that reveals that Lily is on the wrong soccer team for the Fall. Seriously?
5:31 to 7:38pm – Eat some form of food, have talk with Dave about why he doesn’t take me on fancy dates any more, discover there is no toilet paper in our bathroom, and realize the underwire in my bra is trying to empale me.
7:39pm – -Open beer.
7:40pm – Make a mental note to not forget anything on tomorrow’s agenda.
7:41pm- Drink beer
The End. Well, not really.
On our recent vacation to Whidbey Island, I found these little quiz books at the local “everything” shop.
And because I have a devilish sense of humor, I bought them. When Dave saw them he said, “Oh Great” and then he prepared himself for the worse.
These are the kind of questions I had to answer about him:
#2 Does he have his tonsils?
#9 What is his shoe size?
#42 How many times a day does he brush his teeth?
These are the kinds of questions he had to answer about me:
#5 What is her favorite color?
#11 How often does she shop for groceries?
#36 Has she ever used a power saw?
See, it starts off innocent enough, and I have to say both Dave and I were doing quite well on our respective quizzes.
#73 Which one of these CAN’T she do? A.) Touch her toes B.) Stand on her head C.) Jumpstart a car or D.) Rewire a lamp.
Uh, yeah, I can’t do any of those…
How about these:
#48 Does she know who Pythagoras was?
Whatever…
#14 Would he like to ride into space?
Totally, he would be there in a second. I, however, have to be drugged to ride in an airplane.
But then a few zingers found their way into the game, for example:
#26 Which one of your women friends does he find the most attractive?
Let’s just say I got that one right. Not because he admitted it, but because he turned bright red and opened a beer.
#89 Is there anything you (he) can do that SHE can’t?
No. I can even pee standing up, if required. Oh, wait, he can swim the butterfly. Take it from me, my butterfly is pretty darn ugly. I also cannot do calculus.
#43 What would she say about the idea of a strip club a mile from your home? A.) “Where do I sign to protest?” B.) “Makes no difference to me!” C.) “Great!” or D.) “Hmmm, Wonder if they are hiring?” Well, since the high school I used to work at is RIGHT NEXT to a strip club (I kid you not), I am gonna go with C. Okay, just kidding.
Of course, now when some creep out ther googles “strip club” my blog will come up. Lovely.
So, if you are bored this summer and looking to torture your husband, pick these little gems up. Or better yet, give them as wedding gifts. The groom will thank you, I am sure.
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