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Caulk Block

I look forward to when my husband pulls out his big caulking gun and a tube of caulk sealant. That means my inner 12 year-old boy comes out so it can take advantage of all the cock talk I can come up with. There’s always that time of year I dread. Ant season. Those little assholes come onto our kitchen counter and I just want to set fire to the house after so many days because they drive me crazy.

Enter caulk.

Husband: The ant bait seems to be working but I’m going to get my big caulk out and see if that helps.

Me: So, you’re going to caulk block them then?

Husband: Yeah, with lots of caulk.

He’s currently trying to get the master bathroom shower all caulked up. He’s been drying the shower with a fan since last night before he caulks it up and it’s driving me crazy because the fan cord is plugged in right in front of the toilet so whenever I’ve gone to the bathroom since yesterday, I have to be careful to avoid the tripwire that is the fan cord while making my way to the toilet so last night while getting up, I didn’t want to turn the light on so I just took these giant steps while hoping I wouldn’t trip over the cord from the fan and kill myself in the middle of the night. All this so my husband can get his caulk on in the shower.

The time finally came for my husband to rock out with his caulk out.

Husband: I get to go use my caulk in the shower.

Me: Have fun. Try not to be too messy.

A few minutes later…

Husband: My white caulk is too white. I need a nude caulk.

Me: Okay.

Husband: I’ll be at Home Depot looking at the different caulk. I’ll get the hardest caulk they have.

Me: Don’t get too big of a caulk though. We want it to fit what you’re caulking.

Comments { 2 }

Marriage Is Exhausting

Back in October, my mom came for a visit after six years of us not seeing each other. It was so amazing having her here and the only time I feel like my true self is when I’m around my mom, sister, and writing, so it was an exciting visit for me.

We talk about everything and nothing is really off limits. Months before my mom came to visit, I had been feeling off about my marriage. We’re not talking splitsville but my husband was just annoying the shit out of me. The biggest issue is that he is so overconsumed by our daughter and at times, overbearing… just like his parents are. I end up feeling like the third wheel. Obviously kids are the main issue but I firmly believe that the relationship should come first.

It gives your children a foundation to what a healthy relationship is and they learn the world doesn’t revolve around them all of the time.

After some talks with my mom, I could no longer ignore the disconnect I felt in my marriage. After the hummingbird goes to bed, the hubby and I go off and do our own things. While we’re in the same house, we’ve been slowly losing the closeness we once had.

My mom was the mirror I needed to see that I had to make a change and put my marriage on high priority. But, I had gotten to a point where I was stuck in a rut and exhausted by my marriage. It can be a lot of work. I had unintentionally left it on the wayside.

So, after my mom left, I immediately dove in and made the effort to be more one on one with him. Obviously, it can be hard when you have a 7 year-old that interrupts by saying “mom! mom? mom? MOOOM?!” over and over again while talking to your significant other and you have to say JUST A MINUTE! through gritted teeth.

Slowly, we’ve been working on connecting with each other more. We still on occasion get stuck in our old habits but I found out something and I don’t know why I hadn’t known this about my husband all this time.

I’ve heard the saying that they way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and while I believe that’s true, I found a quicker response is by letting my hands do the work. And by that I mean, touching his dick. How did I not know this all there years?!

He’s always been more affectionate and I’ve been the type that wants my space so he’s probably been deprived. So, I just touch it.

Want those shelves he’s been promising to make for the past two years?

Touch his dick.

Need to get something painted?

Touch it!

Have to get something fixed?

Touch it!

I was excited to tell my therapist about this discovery. After bitching to her for months about how I feel my marriage is getting off track, I went to a recent session and said I can’t believe all I have to do to get my husband to respond more to me in all ways is by nuzzling up to him and touching his dick!

After 21 years of marriage, it’s nice to feel like we’re getting back on track with our relationship.

And, it’s all thanks to dick.

Comments { 4 }

Hide My Shit

When I was about 9 or 10, I borrowed my mom’s scissors for something and when she asked for them back, I forgot where I put them. On television, they were showing an Alice In Wonderland two-part special and it was the second night. Since I couldn’t find the scissors, my mom was angry and wouldn’t let me see the second night of it. I thought she was the meanest mom in the world. The scissors were found the next day where I had absent-mindedly put them on a windowsill covered by a curtain.

Turns out, my mom wasn’t in fact the meanest mom in the world. She was just sick and tired of me losing her shit all the time, I’m sure. I’ve found that I have to hide anything, even from my husband, that I don’t want to go missing. In fact, the issues of scissors comes up frequently. I have a secret spot for two pairs of scissors. One is a small pair and the other I use to open up my hundreds of amazon packages.

The small orange handled one is hidden away in my bathroom and the other scissors are in the very back of our junk drawer. But, even those get found and then lost so I resorted to hiding them in the bedroom closet. The older my daughter gets, the more I have to be a hiding ninja.

It’s the same with my lighters that I use for my vanilla candle addiction. I use the long lighters and probably go through several a year since my husband will borrow one for the grill and I’ll reluctantly hand it over and then will I ever see that lighter again? Of course not.

Somehow, between the kitchen and my husband’s grill on the deck, it gets Twilight Zone’d and disappears into thin air. Later on, I’ll want to light some candles for winding down and then I can’t find the fucking lighter. My husband will just respond with “it’ll show up sometime” and I want to bop him on the head because how does he expect me to unwind when I can’t find the damn lighter for my damn candles so I can fucking relax?!

Then, there’s the chocolate issue. We have a bowl of candy in the pantry but I’m hooked on the Lindt chocolate truffles and have to be careful where I put them. I thought the perfect place would be behind my Shakeology bag… fyi, that stuff is gross. It turns into this gelatinous goo even when I drink it in a fast amount of time. I know some people swear by the stuff but if you come across it, don’t bother. Making my own fruit smoothies with protein powder is so much better.

Okay, I’m totally off track. Back to my chocolate. I hid it behind my protein powder where I thought my husband never goes and while the hummingbird was wanting some chocolate, he mentioned my chocolate stash. That’s mine! My precious Lindt truffles are all miiine!

So, I have to find a better place to hide them if I buy a bag… like in my belly. If you’re a parent or parent to be, hide your shit. Because if you don’t, you’ll never see it again. Then again, when you have kids, you have to worry about finding their shit too.

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Douche Bag

Me to Husband: Something smells fishy in the house. It’s like if you swam in a lake fishy kind of smell. What the hell is that?

Husband to Me: Maybe you need to douche.

Me: Runs up and jumps on his back while playfully pretending to strangle him. Goes back to sit on couch.

Me: I’m serious though. The house really does have a light fishy smell.

Husband: Then, close your legs.

Me: You asshole!

Me: Playfully pretends to strangle husband again. Honest. He really is still alive.

What it ended up being was that the hummingbird hadn’t been flushing her toilet and left the lid open with lots of pee. Gag!

Another day…

The hummingbird is in summer camp and we have the house to ourselves all day. We went out to lunch and came back home. It was only 1 pm so we had four more hours to kill and spend together.

Me: What should we do for the rest of the day?

A wide open opportunity to get some down and dirty time. Oooh la la.

Husband: I’m going to watch some You Tube videos on how to fertilize the yard.

Me: Yeah, I think I’m going to read for a while.

And, this is what (21 years of) marriage looks like.

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More Cowbell

Flash-Gordon

My husband needs to wear a cowbell. He’s the type of person who just sneaks up on to you out of thin air. He appears out of nowhere. Most of the time I want to tie a cowbell around his neck so I can keep track of him.

Just today, I was in the bedroom and heard the backyard door shut. It seems like not even a minute later, I start walking out of the bedroom when I see something zoom out of the corner of my eye. I’ve been a bit jumpy since I’m reading this book, and when I saw a blurred figure getting closer to me, I screamed my ass off.

He stood there looking at me like I was a crazy person and I told him he’s going to give me a fucking heart attack if he keeps this going. He’s also excellent at disappearing out of nowhere. On our second to last move, he was standing right next to me as he was talking with one of the movers.

And then, BAM, the mover asked a question, I turn to my husband, and he’s not fucking there. It’s like he has the speed of Superman. The hummingbird and I spend part of each night calling for him when she’s getting ready for bed. She’ll be calling DAD! DAD! DAAAAAAD?! while internally I’ll be thinking “What the fuckity fuck???? Where in the fuck did he fucking go???!”

My husband reminds me of this character in a movie called Dear God with Grep Kinnear. It’s a pretty cheesy but cute movie. The quick version is he’s a con artist, has to get a proper job after being arrested, works at the post office, and starts answering letters from people who write to god. It’s not religious-y though. Let’s say ‘religious-y is an actual word.

Anyway, totally getting off track. Greg Kinnear’s boss, played by the always awesome Hector Elizondo, pops up from time to time and whenever Greg’s character turns to ask him a question, Hector is gone in a flash.

Hector’s role completely encompasses my husband. He’s Flash Gordon. It can be rather annoying but we joke about it even though it irritates me to no end. I’m actually getting him a cowbell for Christmas as a joke.

I already know I’ll quickly regret that decision because not only will my husband walk around with it to annoy me, the hummingbird will get a hold of it and drive me insane but we’re getting her a drum set for Christmas so I figured it will be a good combo.

I’m a glutton for punishment….

Willingly getting a drum set for my 7 year-old. But the truth is, I want to learn to play too.

Then I can say, “Hubby, take it away. More cowbell!”

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My Ongoing In Law Cycle Of Thoughts

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My in-laws will be visiting in a little over two weeks and I’ve been trying to mentally prepare for them, especially now with our new house, they’ll be staying with us for four fucking days since there’s plenty of space and we can’t use that as an excuse.

I suggested to my husband that they should stay in a hotel anyway for a much-needed break in between the days but he thinks that’s impolite. Well, fuck. I personally don’t think so and would make it more about them needing their privacy but I didn’t win that one.

With the weeks and months that follow after one of their visits, I start softening up to them and after four or so months, I’ll convince myself that they really aren’t that bad. Then, I start feeling like shit about how much I rant about them and think this time when the in-laws come to stay with us, we’ll actually have a pleasant time. Hey, I never said I wasn’t delusional.

I’ll become so worked up with guilt and feel like a horrible person for the things I say about them. I start convincing myself that I just need to suck it up and stop overreacting. The hummingbird adores them and I keep my feelings to myself and it makes me happy that she’s so happy when they visit.

But then, they arrive. When we greet them, I’m kind of like a deer in headlights with thoughts of all the past bullshit I’ve dealt with when it comes to them and also the simple fact that oh shit, they’re actually here and this visit is really happening.

Within ten minutes, my father in law is talking about every single little detail that happened on their trip here and none of it relates to them. He’ll be saying what he overheard someone else on the plane talk about, go into a thorough overview of a person on his flight that he was nearby and without any knowledge of the person, form all of his own ideas and opinions about who this person might be, what kind of job they have, why they were traveling, etc, etc.

Then, we hear about the people who have died, for example a church member’s sister’s uncle’s grandmother who they have no idea about or never met and that will give me a bang my head against a spike moment. We also hear about how much my mother in law misses her over 100 turtles even though it’s been like five hours since she’s seen them.

By the two-hour mark, not only am I ready for them to go to their hotel room that they don’t have, I’m ready for the entire visit to be over with. But, what’s that? They brought a few gifts for the hummingbird. Hmmm, I can’t imagine what the theme of these gifts will be. Oh, look at that! A shirt with a turtle on it and lookie at the other one, a turtle purse.

At this point, I’ve gone into the kitchen at least once but more like twice to get a few shots of vodka. I can’t forget how the father in law will also discuss ALL the fucking construction in detail that he saw while driving up from Boston. Oh. my. god. A text usually goes out to my mom around this time with something usually along the lines of “help!”.

It will be about time for the bird to get into bed and once she’s tucked into her room, the four of us sit there while my FIL goes back to talking about the construction he saw on the way up here. He wonders what they’re doing if it’s road construction and make assumptions. If it’s something he saw being built like a new construction site, oh lawdy, he goes through the details of how it’s going to be built, with lots of detail and with a fine tooth comb even though he doesn’t know what the hell it’s actually going to be.

And again, this is all assumptions but since he loves to hear himself talk and lecture he seems pretty sure of himself that what he’s saying is fact. Oh. my. god. By now it’s been a good four hours since they’ve arrived and while it may be a little rude, I’ll turn on the television and put it on closed captioning and turn down the volume so he can continue with his lecturing and so I won’t fall asleep because the man is like human ambien.

What has become a little escape for me turns into a nightmare because the FIL starts reading the closed captioning out loud. And, he has 20,000 questions about what’s on when I haven’t yet seen it myself. He’s like my 7 year-old when watching things. Is it really that difficult for a 60 something grown man to not be able to draw conclusions for himself??! I mean, he seemed pretty capable with talking about construction bullshit and the people on the plane and in the airport and AGGHHH!

During this time, my MIL will take some passive aggressive starter strikes at me about how the house looks or how the hummingbird is being raised and how that’s not the way they did it when her kids were growing up.

I’m finally done and head off to bed completely wiped out. But the thing is they get me so wound up and are so fucking exhausting to be around that I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ll end up being too tired and mindfucked to sleep.

The next morning, I absolutely dread opening the bedroom door while hearing them out in the kitchen while the hubby gets breakfast together.

My FIL will always ask how I slept and if I’m doing okay. I’ll tell him no, no I’m not okay and I slept like shit because you two stress the fuck out of me so I’m sleep deprived and pissy from the lack of sleep I had that may have been resolved if you would have just stayed at a damn hotel.

Okay, that’s what I’d like to say but just say a simple fine. There’s of course not much breakfast table chatter since my FIL won’t shut the fuck up. He’s like one of those talking dolls that has a string in the back and once you pull it, it talks for a few seconds. Except, his string doesn’t have a stopping place.

There’ll be plans to go out and see the sites but oh darn, I’ve come down with some mysterious ailment and would be better off staying at the house while they go out with the family.

The non stop talking from my FIL and the passive aggressive bullshit from my MIL continues for the rest of the visit and finally the moment arrives.

They’re LEAVING!! HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH!

I put on my fake sad face and it’s all I can do to stop myself from shoving them out of the door. Finally, they’re gone and the bird will feel sad so I’ll console her while in my head a mariachi band plays to celebrate there departure. A few weeks after they’ve left, I’ll start to recover and get some of my sanity back.

After a month or two, the husband will mention that his parents are looking forward to come up and visit us again soon. My eyes meet his and I give him the death stare followed by a ‘they were just here!” A few months later, my daughter will start asking when she’ll see her grandma and grandpa again and I start to feel myself weaken.

The hubby and I go back and forth about what’s a good time for them to come and visit. I weaken some more and think this visit won’t be as bad as all the other ones, despite my 21 years of knowing otherwise.

Because damn it, maybe it’s all me and not just them and I’m sure I was just being on edge when they came for a visit last time.

This visit, I’ll make sure to do all that I can to have more patience.

They arrive and I will make this visit work in my favor.

Two hours later and two shots of vodka down the hatch and I’m ready for them to leave.

And the cycle repeats.

Oy!

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Inconvenient

The Cycle Of Depression.

~~~~~

Things are fine.

I’ve just been feeling a little tired.

I’m so proud of my daughter and my husband seems to get me.

I’m starting classes in a few months and feeling a little nervous about my age.

I feel so old but who the hell cares.

This is big for me and I’m feeling pretty good.

But there’s a creeping sadness that I can’t seem to shake.

Maybe if I got to the gym an extra day this week, I’ll feel better.

~~~~~

I went to bed early last night but it doesn’t feel like I got much sleep.

There’s a tightness in my chest that seems to last most of the day.

There are a few times a day when I have a feeling of dread and I can’t seem to catch my breath at times because of the panic that has been seeping into me.

I want to talk about it with my husband but I know he won’t understand.

~~~~~

I don’t want to get out of bed.

I was up most of the night reading and watching Friends to take my mind off the anxiety and racing heart every time I tried to go to sleep last night.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the time I was 16 and was doing some really stupid shit.

Why couldn’t I have been a better kid?

And why did I treat my mom like shit and say what I did when I was 23?

I have no idea how I still have people in my life that deal with me.

I can be so selfish and ungrateful.

~~~~~

My classes are coming up soon.

I have no idea what I was thinking when I thought I could go back to school.

I can’t even find enough time to keep the house up and running.

I need to get more sleep but I keep waking up.

Last night I was thinking about how I yelled at my daughter that morning because we were running late for school.

That was so shitty of me.

Tonight when I was kissing her good night, she hugged me tight and told me she loved me in her sweet little voice.

Why can’t I be a better mother?

~~~~~

My husband took my daughter out ice skating Sunday morning and I slept in until 10 am.

Despite that, I’m exhausted.

I’m still not out of bed and it’s noon.

I can’t believe I didn’t go with them to watch my daughter ice skate.

She didn’t seem to mind but I should have gone anyway.

I feel like a burden.

I’m like some inconvenient thing to everyone I know.

My life doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and I shouldn’t even take those classes next month.

Nothing really matters and everything I do seems inconsequential.

~~~~~

I don’t even know why I bother.

~~~~~

My daughter read a little story she wrote this morning.

It felt nice to smile again and mean it.

I wish I could be a better mom to my sweet girl.

My husband deserves a better mother for our child.

But I know I’m doing my best.

~~~~~

I finally got more than a few hours sleep last night.

If this keeps up, maybe I can make it to the gym in a few days.

I talked with my husband about the panic attacks I was having and while he didn’t seem to get it, I feel better that I said something.

~~~~~

I was in the kitchen this afternoon and turned on some music.

It felt good to dance around the kitchen and have a little fun.

Comments { 6 }