BloggingDangerously

How To Shut Me Up...

3 weeks ago I ordered a new wedding band for my engagement ring.  There was nothing wrong with my old band except that 11 years ago when I first got it I was just looking for the least expensive band I could get (after possibly overspending on the engagement ring itself and our wedding.)

So my fiance and I went to Kay Jewelers at the mall and got the least expensive bands we could.  Except I had forgotten my engagement ring so I never got to try them together before I bought it.

And of course I've HATED it for the past 10.5 years.

So I finally felt like I needed to reward myself with something special after the past couple of years of hard work so I ordered a custom band to match my engagement ring exactly.

(no diamonds just a platinum/gold band with a profile that matched my engagement ring)

I brought it home today and it's PERFECT.

I don't know how it came up but my husband said, "How much did you spend on that?"

So I told him honestly, "I'd prefer not to say."

ASIDE: There are a lot of times being the sole breadwinner is incredibly hard, stressful and anxiety inducing.  Sometimes it seems completely unfair that my husband has NO interest in our financial affairs whatsoever.  

This was not one of them.

Because he just laughed and said, "Kids, that means momma paid too much."

Which is possibly true.

But it's beautiful.

If You Like Pina Coladas...

The other morning before school my husband and I started singing the Pina Colada song... "If you like pina coladas, getting caught in the rain..."

The kids asked us what the song was about so we started to explain the lyrics to them.

We told them that the man was tired of his wife so he wanted to meet someone new, but that when he met her he realized that it was his wife and that they just didn't know how much they had in common.

Now, neither my husband nor I care for pina coladas and neither of us like getting caught in the rain, but by the end of our explanation he and I were both choked up.  That's when I realized (again) that we were made for each other.

 

Sometimes You Have To Mess With Your Children...

My 8yo daughter can be a little anxious about things.  She wanted to stay home from school when her grade - about 75 children - was tasked with doing a native American dance in front of the school because she didn't want to be the center of attention.

I try to tell her that everyone feels that way and that it's the kids that power through it that everyone thinks are cool.

"Yeah," she tells me. "No."

Today she asked my husband (again) if she could get her ears pierced.  She's very responsible so he told her that he would talk to me and if I said it was ok, and she demonstrated the ability to take care of her body for the next couple of months (showering without forgetting conditioner, brushing her own hair, etc.) she could get her ears pierced.

Then my husband came into my office and asked me if it was okay with me.

"It's fine with me." I told him.  My daughter is 9 months older than I was when I got my ears pierced.

So we called my daughter in to tell her.  She came in and sat down.

The mood was somber so I said, "Listen, times are tight and you've done such a great job with your gymnastics we've decided to sell you to the circus.  You leave tomorrow."

She looked at me and answered, "I really enjoy the circus."

 

I Don't Stand A Chance

Me to my 9yo: Go to bed.

Him: Ok

Him: (Bangs head on his bed) Much crying ensues.

Me: I'm sorry you got hurt.  Here is an icepak.

Him:(Lying in bed with the icepack, reading.)

Me: (Walking into his room an hour later) WHERE ARE YOU?

Me: (Finding him and his brother downstairs) YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE IN BED.

Them: Oh.

Me: GO TO BED.

Them: Will you tuck us in?

Me:( Walking into their room) of course.

9yo: (Trying to hand me the icepack) Will you bring this downstairs?

Me: You were just downstairs.

9yo: Yes, BUT I WAS DONE WITH THE ICEPACK.

Me: :blank stare: Bring the icepack downstairs.

10yo son: SPEAKING of icepacks (then pulling a warm one out of his pillowcase)

Me: Do you both know where we keep the icepacks?

Them: In the freezer.

My 9yo: (Exasperated) THAT is why I asked you to bring it downstairs.