Funny Crap My Husband Says…

Today I hopped on my laptop to check my email and saw that I had gotten an instant message from Rutherford who was at work. He sent me this.

I read it and laughed and replyed how brilliant it was because I’ve heard most of those myself.

That’s when he says to me, “Stay at home Moms are the Rodney Dangerfield’s of women.”

I just about spit out my grape juice. Where does he come up with this stuff?

If you know him personally, you can attest to the fact that he is most deinfatly one of the funniest people on the planet and says some of the most random things at some of the most random of times.

I laugh at this man all the time and not just because he looks like this. :)

He’s the kind of guy that will make you laugh in the midst of an argument, when laughing is the LAST thing you want to do.

Case in point: We were going back and forth about something (I don’t remember what it was about but i’m sure I was right..whatever it was) and after my complaining about something specific he looks me right in the face with a smile and says, “Well that’s just part of my charm!”

Okay you win. How do you even argue with that? You can’t.

So in honor of him, and becasue some things you just have to share, i’m starting a new segment on my blog called “Funny Crap My Husband Says”.

I will be updating as need be and feel free to comment and share some of the funny crap your husband/kids/etc say.

I’m sure now that Boogie is starting to talk we will be adding Funny Crap My Boogie says…she is, after all, her father’s daughter.

Quick, grab the camera!

Ever since the day Boogie started to crawl she has earned the nickname “4×4″, for a very good reason.

This kid thinks nothing of any road block in her way. Why go around the chair when you can go through the chair? Mountain of toys in your path? Pish! That’s easy! Innocent sleeping wiener dogs ahead? Bring it on….

She has spent many an afternoon using the dining room as her own personal jungle gym.

But THIS takes the cake.

On St.Patty’s Day I was doing all the preparations on what would become the worlds best corned beef and cabbage (just ask Rutherford), and I noticed the house was just a little too quiet.

You other moms know what I mean. Just too quiet for any little person to be up to any good.

So, I did what any other awesome mom would do: I grabbed my camera and went looking for the kid.

This is what I found….

How do you not laugh when you see that?

Those are the best little fat rolls in the world. But that’s just my opinion.

The big ONE.

Well hello, all my faithful readers and bloggy friends.

I have finally recovered enough from the big 0-1 party, to catch up on my now neglected piddly little blog.

Tomorrow I will introduce you to this weeks Featured Favorite Blogger whom I know you will all love as I do…but first things first…..The Party.

Let me just give you all who do not know me as well as others, a little insight into all that is me. I am slightly crafty. I’ve been known to sew a button or two and I can make a mean bow. I am also the type who doesn’t do things…a little.

It wasn’t 1, or even 2, trips to the craft store….nope. It was 7 trips to 3 different craft stores looking for the PERFECT ribbon, the EXACT cupcake stand, the ONLY HAIR CLIP IN THE WORLD that will pull the entire party together.

Then there was the countless hours spent on the Internet looking at plates. PLATES! And don’t get me started on the cupcake toppers. (And if you’re looking for creative and beautiful toppers from the lady who did mine, go to her Etsy store here.)

My sister-in-law, Celena, was the cupcake and cake pop artist extraordinaire. The cupcake and cake pop stand were made by me and my trusty glue gun with 7 different types of ribbon. Told ya.

Considering how many children were going to be here and my really, really, not wanting them all running around my house and playing with the pool table or attempting to drown themselves in a freezing cold swimming pool, we thought it a good idea to get a bouncy house. Genius. This thing is freaking GENIUS, I say! Also, a great work out. I was in it for all of about 5 minutes and was exhausted. I have no idea how my nephews were in it all day long. Not kidding. All. Day. And then came back the next day for seconds!

Do they have one of these at the gym?

All in all, the day was amazing and fun and I was an exhausted grumpy lump by the end of the day. I mean grumpy to the point that my parents were telling me I needed to go to bed. Lol. I got sent to bed by my parents at 34. Boogie made out in the gift department and I am knee deep in Thank You cards.

World Best Dad Award goes to the white version of DJ Lance Rock, otherwise known as Rutherford.

Big THANK YOU to everyone that helped me pull all of this together, Momo & Papa, Mom & Dad, Celena and Rutherford and a big HUGE THANK YOU to everyone that came out to celebrate our baby girls big day with us. It’s a day we will never forget.

One year ago today…

I was not one of those women who had the “pregnancy glow”. There was no glowing going on here.

Nope.

One year ago today, at this exact very moment, I was a house.

A whale.

Had I gone to the beach, people would be trying to push me back into the ocean.

I was 2 days shy of giving birth to Boogie and I. Was. Miserable.

At the very end of my pregnancy, I couldn’t eat or drink (even water) without getting heartburn or reflux, and sleeping was impossible. If I ever even got remotely comfortable, the comfort would be interrupted by my need to get up and take Pepcid and/or pee. Ugh, Pepcid.

This is where it gets glamorous because my doctor said that every woman is tortured by some ailment during their pregnancy. Mine? Yeast infections. Too much information? Probably, but had you been around when I was pregnant you would have already known this because Rutherford would have told you. Oh yeah.

I can laugh now at the memory of standing in line at Walgreen’s with him, my 18th bottle of Pepcid in one hand and a box of Monistat in the other and him giggling like a 12 year old and loudly saying the word “Vagisil” over and over while in line.

Back off ladies, he’s all mine.

Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to get this kid out of me.

On top of all that, she wasn’t dropping and I wasn’t dilating. I was a week from my due date of March 17th and the wasn’t budging. My ribs were bruising and I would cry over the pain in my ribs and back and praying she would just drop. But no.

The next picture is of my sister-in-law, Celena, right after Boogie was born. She told me to take this photo because this is what she as doing in my belly, hence the extreme pain.

22 1/2 inches at birth and me with a 32 inch rib cage. Ouch.

On March 10th, 2010, I had my last weekly doctors appointment before Boogie’s due date and I was done. Done being pregnant, done with not sleeping, done with the Monistat, done with it all.

That day I sat on the table and PRAYED I was dilated, even a little bit. Give me something! A light at the end of the tunnel or SOMETHING!

But no, Boogie wasn’t cooperating or budging. And that’s when I started to cry. I cried and put my foot down. I decided then and there I was NOT leaving till I was told exactly what my doctor planned on doing about this injustice!

“I’m done! I’m done, I tell you! She’s cooked! She’s ready! PUHLEEZ get this kid out of me! I can’t take it anymore!”

I’m sure I said more than this and probably a bit more colorful than that but you get the gist.

My wonderful doctor left the room for a minute and when she returned she said, “How does today at 5 sound!”

Praise the Lord! Sweet Baby Jesus!

Next thing I knew we were checked into the hospital, I was hooked up to machines and tubes, and Mom was heading to the airport in San Diego. And wouldn’t you know it…that’s when the contractions started. Of course.

The next few hours were painful but fast and before I knew it I was being wheeled into the operating room, shot in the back and Rutherford was by my side.

What I remember from those minutes was lots of tugging, my ribs hurting and Katy Perry music.

At 5:24 pm on March 10, 2010, Audrey Elizabeth was born…all 8lbs 10.9 oz and 22 1/2 inches of her.

As soon as they pulled Boogie out, Rutherford went to be with her and I cried to my anesthesiologist that I thought they broke my ribs. He promised to give me something good (and boy did he deliver) but he wanted to wait till I got to see the baby for the first time, he wanted me to remember it.

Perfect.
Do you see that? 8 lbs, 10.9 oz.
He hasn’t let go of her since.

I will never forget it.

The wonderful man with the drugs gave me Demerol and I was the happiest person in the world. I guess a little too happy because I heard from family later that my doctor called me Michael Jackson, Rutherford referred to me as Jim Morrison and my friend Jennifer, who was waiting in my hospital room, said she could hear me talking and laughing as they wheeled me from the OR back to my room.

Can I get some of that to go?

Coming home from the hospital.

Now here we are, just about a year later, Boogie is half precious angel baby, and half menace dog torturer.

Life has changed in every way possible.

We are now a family.

Being 20 Something….

So today I spent the day cleaning out the office. You would be surprised at the crap I keep. If I don’t watch it you’re all going to see me on that show Hoarders, surrounded by old receipts and Target bags.


Anywho… I came upon a folder that had some of my old writings in it. Like on paper! Can you believe it! And in green sparkly pen, to top it off. 


Nothing like green sparkly pen to get your point across and engage the reader.


I wrote this when I was turning 25 (you do the math, jerks) and thought I’d share it with you. Just takes you back to the time when life sucked. You’re broke, you’re single (or in another crappy relationship), you’re in the worst part of your career (the starting from the bottom phase), everything the government tells you is a conspiracy and you haven’t had a decent home cooked meal since your Mommy last visited.


You’re one flat tire away from starving and even your cat looks at you like you’re an idiot.

Being 20 Something
They call is the ‘quarter-life crisis’. It’s when you stop going along with the crowd and suddenly realize there are a lot of things about yourself you may not know and might not like. You being to feel insecure and wonder where you’ll be in 2 years- the get scared because you don’t even know where you are now.
This is also when it becomes painfully clear how selfish people can be, and maybe those friends you thought were so great, really aren’t that great at all. And the ones you’ve lost touch with over the years, were actually some of the most important. However, what we fail to recognize is that we are hardly alone, they are all realizing this too, and are just as confused as us.
You take a long hard look at your job which is not even close to what you’d thought you’d be doing. You see that, apparently, there is a difference between a ‘job’ and a ‘career’. And not knowing which one you’re in, or even which one you want….makes you just want to stay in bed anyway.
But with age, comes self awareness. Being away from the comforts and securities and ‘the old gang’ gives you the opportunity to gain perspective and a real sense of who you are. Opinions and convictions are getting stronger and you now find yourself judging others more…and harsher than usual. Everyday adding to the list of what you consider acceptable, or not anywhere near.  What may have been okay last week, is unthinkable today. This also goes for the people you choose to associate yourself with when it becomes alarmingly clear that birds of a feather…really do flock together.
You are insecure, and then 100% sure. You wonder how you can clearly know everything and apparently, nothing at all. And that the worst kind of ‘lonely’ is the lonely felt in a room full of people.
Suddenly change is the enemy and you tire yourself out grasping for the past. Then one day is dawns on you, that the past has past and now you have a choice: Move forward, or get left behind. 
You heart gets broken while you’re breaking hearts. ‘True love’ is a myth told at little girl’s tea parties and perpetuated by the hopeful. You learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul. That love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, kisses aren’t contracts, nor are presents meant to be promises. Planting your own garden instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
The ‘cool’ is starting to become pathetic and the ‘dork is now husband material. Except that all the good ones are gone, or gay. So we give up our search for ‘Mr.Right’, at least for tonight, and go on a quest for whom ever looks like ‘Mr.Right Now’ through the bottom of a shot glass. 
(Okay, I need to cut in here for a second and just laugh. I sound like those little goth kids on South Park.  Conformists.)
Then, in an average moment, on a not-so-extraordinary day, it all changes. The light at the end of the tunnel. With your head up and your eyes wide open, you being to find comfort within yourself for the first time. Gone are the precious moments wasted on giving a crap about what everyone else is wearing, driving or dating and you wonder why it even mattered to begin with.
You being to accept you defeats with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child. Regrets are now being packed away with our senior yearbooks and mix tapes. In its place are lessons only learned from mistakes, 401k’s and self respect. And now when you say you like yourself, you actually mean it. It all comes down to the fact that you’re in your 20’s and it’s supposed to be like this. Why else do you think you can drink at 21, cause you’re definitely going to need a drink for this one.
So that was it. I just want to go back in time to give myself a hug and a slap on the back of the head, a la Cher in Moonstruck. “Snap out of it!”

I can’t really remember what was going on at that time but apparently I had just had my heart broken and/or just started my first 401k. Either way I was a hot mess…and a drunk. I wonder if I was drunk when I wrote this? I sure hope so. I think *I* need a drink now. 
I just recently (Feb 20th) turned 34 and have been feeling terribly old so I’m glad I found this. If that’s what young was, I am happy to be old. 
Cheers.

Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you…

Hey everyone!

Yes, i’ve been MIA for a bit but I have good reason! It’s Boogie’s 1st birthday next week and I am in full party planning mode.

So I promise I will get back to you, dear blog readers…

I will give you the whole scoop on the wedding and the party and Rutherford dressing up at DJ Lance Rock…yes, you read that right.

I love my life.

You can always catch up with me on Twitter anytime! @betterhalfmommy