SURPRISE!

For my parents' 10 year anniversary, my dad gave my mom a pearl necklace and showed it to my sister and I beforehand and told us "don't tell mommy."

My sister just flat out snitched, "it's a necklace." 
But I did not tell. I just dropped very subtle hints. Like, "you're gonna like it!" "It's really pretty!" And the most cryptic clue of them all "you wear it here," and patted my collarbone. 

Somehow my mom figured something was up. *shrugs* 

In my defense, this was 1987 and I was five (a young one at that). And, my mom didn't know it was a pearl necklace, so she was still surprised. And then 25 years later she let me borrow that necklace for my wedding, so it all worked out.  

Now lets fast forward to 2022, and my 10 year anniversary with dr soc was coming up. As you can see from yesterday's post he got me some bling bling* and I loves it. Beforehand he enlisted girl 1's help and she took her duty incredibly serious and as enthusiastically as she could. Girl 1 is 6. 

*yes I know I'm dating myself with that vernacular term

And so, the 2022 scene played like this:   

dr soc: yeah, my (wedding) ring is a bit tight and I may get it resized, but I don't remember what size I am

6: mommy, I need a tracing of your hand. 

me: yeah I had to get remeasured when I got my (wedding) ring resized last year. 

dr soc: ah-

6: mommy, what I really need a tracing of the finger you wear your rings 

dr soc: -

me: oh okay after dinner-

6: no lets do it now, here let me get a piece of paper and a pen for you. 

--7 seconds later ---

6: here, put your hand here (points to the paper she had slapped in front of me), and trace like this (starts tracing my hand) no spread your fingers out .

dr soc: rubs the bridge of his nose

6: okay that looks good I'm just going to cut this out. 

me: that's great honey -

6: now I can always have a high five from you! 

dr soc: sigh

me: That makes perfect sense kiddo.

--- 3 minutes later ---

6: daddy! -whispers- I got it! (slips him the cutout of my hand in front of me and giggles hard core* proud of the mission accomplished)

*also dating myself with this term and I don't care  

Somehow I figured something was up. *shrugs* But hey, at least she didn't flat out snitch!   

 

 

Secrets

Dr soc took Little Turkey shopping with him for my Christmas gift, and reminded her don't tell mommy which she took to heart. She was well aware this was a secret. They get home from shopping and she is so excited. While daddy gets things out of the car she comes right over to me with her little hands covering the biggest smile on her face. She leans in and very emphatically whispers:

girl 1: Mommy! We didn't get you ponies!* --pause--
(dr soc walks in the house) 
girl 1: We got you a mug! 
dr soc: (face palm, laughing hysterically) Little Turkey! I just told you that was a secret! 
me: (laughing hysterically) That's why she whispered!

We were both laughing so hard that she actually started to look a little unsure that maybe she hadn't  done the right thing. I felt bad about that, so still giggling I beckoned her over and stage whispered if she wanted to know what we got daddy for Christmas. She nodded eagerly.
me: okay! We got him a pineapple! But shh! It's a secret!
girl 1: Okay! (turns around to face dr soc and whispers emphatically with hands over her mouth again) Daddy! We got you a pineapple!   

*Her gift suggestion. Also her suggestion for what we should get daddy, what the baby wanted and what she asked Santa Claus for. Got to hand it to her, she covered all her bases so that one way or another she was going to get those ponies.

High Hopes

Girl-2 is a burper. Which is perfectly normal but since Girl-1 rarely burped (she still doesn't burp much really) any burping, especially the juicy ones, we notice more. Dr soc and I (okay, more me than him) find burps hi-lar-ious, so we (okay, more me once again) have high hopes Girl-2 will one day give us a "Ben & Jerry's burp."

The backstory: Dr soc and I were on the patio of Ben & Jerry's one afternoon (either engaged or newly married) with a mom and her 2 kids, a boy and a girl. Out of nowhere, the girl (about 8) lets out this monster burp. I'm talking John-Belushi-frat-boy-dragon-roar-style burp, followed with a dainty "'s'cuse me!" I absolutely lost it, laughing so hard I couldn't stop. Dr soc was laughing too, but not nearly to my extent. The mom was mortified, but the girl was quite proud of herself judging from the smug smile she was giving her brother. From that moment on, that "Ben & Jerry's burp" was deemed the pinnacle of burps and utter hilarity.

So here's hoping one day, Girl-2 (or Girl-1, really, just one of them), gives a "Ben & Jerry burp" and I laugh as hard as I did that one afternoon!

Long Jacket

So, I've already got something to hold over the this next kid's head. Also: thank god it was winter and my coat covers me to about mid thigh.

Before we were telling people I was expecting I was trying to hide (and usually failing) how miserable I felt at times. But other times...
Trigger warning: this is hilarious but disgusting.
We're out to lunch and my stomach/intestines were giving me first trimester nonsense. I went to the bathroom and sat to wait it out. After waiting for a while and nothing happening, everything happened. My stomach revolted and I had a half second to throw myself backwards, bend at the waist and I throw up all over myself. All. Over. I didn't take anything with me to the bathroom (because that's gross) so I was trapped.   

I waited a few minutes until someone else came into the bathroom, and when they finished washing their hands I called out: "excuse me...Um, in the first stall here. Hi, I'm pregnant and I had a bit of an accident..."
I asked a stranger in the bathroom to find my husband (and daughter) in the restaurant, tell him I'm okay, but I need my purse and coat. I thank her profusely when she comes back bringing both, assure I'm okay and thank her again. In my purse I have a plastic bag (to throw up in though lot of good it did me there), wipes to clean up, and my phone to text Mike what the hell is going on.

In the next few minutes I get as much of my lunch off of my clothes into the toilet, bag up all my clothes, and wipe up what the clothes didn't "catch." I button my coat, pull up my knee socks (those were clean), and texted my husband: I'm leaving the bathroom now. I'll meet you at the car. Took a deep breath, grabbed my bags, put my head down and walked out of the McCalisters in just my coat. We're pulling out of the parking lot when I get sick again and throw up out the window of the car. (sorry about that honey...but we're both really glad I made it out the window) And to add insult to injury, I still haven't done what I was waiting to do in the bathroom in the first place!

At home, I take a bath, everything eventually leaves my system in the privacy of my bathroom and I feel better okay enough. The kid takes a nap, and Mike and I settle on the couch to watch football. He asks how I'm doing and I ruefully say: that trench coat fantasy is not what it's cracked up to be.

Eat Me

So, something I legit need for my kitchen:
"DO NOT EAT" labels/signs.
Otherwise, my husband's hunger overtakes him and main/key ingredients fall victim to his voracious snacking.

No, seriously. Twice this week dinner plans were thwarted/nearly thwarted due to dr soc's snacking. I've been trying to get in the habit of menu planning, so I write down the 6 days of dinner ideas and shop accordingly. I like to try new recipes but usually only try one a week because I'm not insane.

Anyway, Monday was going to be chili pie. Chili, noodles, cornbread topping, bake. All things I had in the house. But when dr soc got home from his office hours he ate the leftover chili from Sunday's lunch for a snack. All of it. So no chili pie until I make another vat of chili. No biggie really, but it was fun to tease him.
And then tonight I asked if he could start prepping dinner since it was taking me such a long time to get home. I told him the cookbook to find the recipe and by the time I got home he had most of the marinade made. However, he told me when I got home that we almost didn't have enough cashews because he had once again snacked on a key ingredient when he got home from work!

I pretty much brayed like a jackass. But it's also a good thing I got home when I did because I got there before he added the garlic. Yeah, turns out dr soc didn't exactly know what a clove of garlic was. So even if we hadn't had enough cashews, the 4 heads of garlic would have certainly covered that void!

Synonyms

On our anniversary Mike and I went to the Cheesecake Factory for dessert and sat at an outside table since it was a nice night. The patio was quieter than the restaurant so we could have a conversation with each other without shouting, and we could also hear the pop music playing through their sound system. Which is what a decent chunk of our conversation was about, the music. We would hear a song, reminisce about the last time we heard it or what it reminds us of, wonder whatever happened to the artist, yadda yadda yadda.

Anyway, a song by Seal comes on and Mike posed this question:
mike: What's Seal's real name anyway? Otter??
me: hahahahaha!

Simon Says, Part 2

When my friends were visiting:

me: I had the I do whatever Jeanne tells me conversation again the other day.
Jeanne: Ha! How'd it go?
me: Pretty much the same way only shorter this time. My coworker asked the if-she-told-you-to-jump-off-a-bridge-would-you-question, I responded with my yes-I-would-but-why-is-she-asking-me-answer, she asked the usual really?-question, I said yes-but-why-is-she-telling-me-to-jump? again, and then before it went any further I said I've had this conversation before and you will give up and acquiesce to the fact that I do whatever Jeanne tells me.
Jeanne: Hahaha!
me: Yep. You know, I consider that conversation one of my greatest victories of all times.

Ridiculousness

I'm at work when my co-worker (male, and maybe old enough to be my grandpa) tells me "dear, I think you have a rip in the back of your pants." I had no idea and of course I can't see it, so I'm comically looking over my shoulder turning in circles trying to look at my ass. I asked Nelson where the rip was, but then he said with some embarrassment "well, it's in a spot I don't really want to point it out..."

Upon hearing this, I know I need to go to the bathroom to look. And sure enough, my jeans have thinned so much along the seam there's a noticeable bare patch from ass to lady-parts. Cue the giggling. Fortunately for me, I'm only working a half day, and even more fortunately I'm wearing full coverage underwear. But this doesn't solve the immediate problem of there being a rip in my pants.

Now, the whole time I'm spinning in circles our other coworker could see us on the security camera in the back all he can do is laugh. I'm the MacGyver of our staff so if anyone is going to fix this problem it's going to be me. Plus we are talking about my pants, and the only one who should be taking care of those types of problems is me (or my husband) anyway. While I don't want to put tape on the outside of my pants, I figure I can put some inside just to keep the rip from getting bigger in the next 2 hours.

But then, I couldn't find any duct tape. We had packing tape, sealing tape, book tape, masking tape, double-sided tape, scotch tape and some tacky glue, but no duct tape. I decided that the sealing tape was the next best option since the width of the tape was bigger than the rip, thus I would have to use less of it. I go back to the ladies room, place the necessary amount of tape to keep the rip in place and head back to the workroom. But suddenly I have a different problem: the tape crinkles as I walk. And honestly, I'm not sure which one is worse!

At least I can sit for most of my 2 hours left, so it's really not going to be that bad, just funny. I text my husband about how silly this day has been, and his response is: "at least you are taking it in stride." Which made me realize we would be making a lot of walking/my pants puns. But I figured the whole situation was ridiculous enough, so if a rip, some tape and a couple of bad puns was as bad as it was going to get, it would be fine. But I was wrong, because then the tape starts itching.

At that point I just gave into the complete ridiculousness of the situation and giggled the rest of my shift. Sitting down. 

Coupon Queen

mike: I got some coupons from the oil change place for all the stuff that I did for my car. So if you need them in the next few months they're yours.
me: Thanks.
mike: I couldn't use them on anything I did today. So the guy said I could give them to my family, or my girlfriend. I guess he didn't see my ring!
me: Ha! Guess not. Though I have to say if you did give your girlfriend coupons I would be pissed.
mike: I bet.
me: And not about the girlfriend part. Well, ok, yeah, some of that would be that you have a girlfriend. But no, I'd be more pissed ab-
mike: About the coupons?
me: Yes! Exactly! You have a girlfriend and you give her coupons?  Low man.
mike: They were coupons for lunchables, You know, stuff you don't like.
me: -snort- Well if those are the coupons you gave her, then hahaha!. Because that means your dating a girl that eats lunchables and those hurt, when you know your wife has got it going on in the kitchen.
mike: Hahaha, true! 

Flight of the Nutcracker

mike: What are these? Oh, nutcracker napkin rings. --holds them up for me to see--
me: Those are cute. Oh, you know, I think my dad really likes nutcrackers. Maybe... for Christmas?
mike: Does he?  
me: I think so. Oh wait, maybe it's birds he likes...
--for some reason dr soc finds that hysterical, and starts laughing--
mike: What? No, those are not even close. At all.
me: Yeah, hmmm. I'm not really sure
mike: Seriously. At all. (still laughing) 

Long story shirt, we didn't get the napkin rings. And I still have no idea if my dad likes nutcrackers.

Safety First

My husband is the most cautious man in the world. He didn't have some major childhood trauma as far as I know, so I've always kinda wondered what made him so cautious and think of some things as much more fragile then they actually are. I've also told him he'll have to toughen up a little bit by the time we have kids because he is going to have a heart attack every time Sharktopus falls down or Dinocroc skins his knee and that will weaken it and eventually it will just flip him the bird on the way out the door screaming "I give up!" and leave me a widow and I will have to kill him if he does that.

However, he is also the best sociologist ever and has this thing about gender equality, so he thinks my sister's husband's plan to build their (eventual) son a tree house, but their (eventual) daughter a play house safely on the ground.is a tad on the sexist side. So in this case his sociology side outranks his safety first side.

This Thanksgiving, both my parents and my in-laws were here and somehow my brother-in-law's tree house/play house plan came up. My mother in law however, jokingly (well, I hope, jokingly) thinks this is a good idea. And then she says, "well, we were very cautious parents."

And suddenly, my husband made so much more sense!

At Auntie's House

Last Saturday my good friends from college stopped by on thier way home from thier family vaction at the beach. I was really excited to see them becasue they had never seen my house, but I also hadn't seen thier kids (in person) in over a year since their little dude's baptism when he was 3 months old and thier daughter was almost 2 and a half.  So lots of stuff had changed, except that the kids are just too adorable for words.

Anyway, we were showing them the house and we were looking for a spot for the three year old to maybe take a rest later. At some point the three year old, a crazy dog and I were sitting on the daybed we have in one of our rooms. I'm holding crazy dog back a little so she won't spazz the child off the bed, and N discovers that the day bed is a really good bouncy bed.

So there's N bouncing on the bed, her curls flying around and she says excitedly: this is a really good bouncing bed!
me: I bet you can't do that in your house can you?
N: No!
me: Ok. 

--And let her continue bouncing. Becasue I am an awesome auntie--

That is one smart cookie. She totally knew her limits in that she can't bounce on the bed at her house, but it's cool at my place.  Then later when both of them were upstairs and my husband went to check on them, she and her brother/partner in crime were bouncing again, having a great time.*

Fun times!

*We really didn't care. We probaly won't let Sharktopus and Dinocroc bounce on the beds at home, but that's becasue of it's thier home and there are rules. But that's ok becasue they can always bounce on the beds at thier auntie's houses!

Oil spill

Last night I was cooking dinner like I normally do and as I was getting the olive oil out of the cupboard, the cap came off on my hand (it must not have been on very tight) and the bottle slipped from my grasp.  The bottle hit the counter top then the floor, where the glass, almost full bottle broke and emptied it's contents all over my kitchen floor.

The first thing I tell Mike to do is keep the dogs away, there's broken glass on the floor but we also don't want them to investigate and get their paws coated in oil and track it through the house.  Eventually we end up crating them just because we just couldn't keep them away.

Well, neither one of us knows how to clean up a spill this big, so I gingerly walk over to the computer (I have oil spattered on my feet too) and google search how to clean an olive oil spill. I clicked on this really wordy solution that was way more like to hear themselves talk than actually tell me how to clean. But I was able to pick out the key word corn starch and could figure out what to do from there without having to read the rest of the jabbering.

By now Mike has picked up the large glass chunks and the shards have been swept up as well, but we've also been sweeping the oil around too. I gingerly walk around the kitchen island, awkwardly grab the corn starch, and proceed to dump it all over my kitchen floor, much to the complete and utter glee of my inner child. I stepped right in the cornstarch puddle to soak up the oil from my feet, and resumed cooking while we waited for the rest oil to soak up. (it was draft night for both my fantasy teams, there was a schedule to keep!)

Then 5 minutes later must have I decided the mess wasn't big enough so I fumbled and emptied the box of spaghetti over the kitchen floor too! I mean, what the hell? How on earth did I manage to make not one, but two epic messes in the span of 5 minutes?  I look at the spaghetti strewn around my floor on top of the cornstartch layer with my mouth agape, and I look up to see my husband with the exact same look.

And with that, he says: "you are NOT allowed to drink during the draft tonight."
Agreed.

The College Experience

When I worked in the hospital, I was the 2nd youngest one there. (the youngest was my 23 year old coworker who was every bit of 23 and will always be my 23 year old coworker).  Anyway, one of the nurses I worked with, her youngest (daughter) was getting ready to go off to college and leave the nest for a bit. So my coworker was trying to get a few more mother/daughter bonding type things in before the daughter heads off. One of these events was a sappy tear jerker movie filled night, that were "the kind of movies you should see before college and see with your mother."

I start cracking up, because:
"When I left for college, the movie my mom wanted me to watch Animal House!"

I think my mom had a more realistic view of what college was like. Just saying....