Truths

 Welp. As of today I'm 40. (FUCK). I mean, it's great I'm here. My 20s were fun, and I married the love of my life. My 30's I had my children and those two are...my greatest joys and my greatest annoyances. So my 40s...let's see what this decade brings! 

But what kind of milestone birthday blog would this be if I didn't do some sort of soapbox reflection? So I will present you some truths I stand by my 40 trips around the sun

• A good pen will make or break your day.
• A person's use of spell check is a determining factor in friendship levels.
• I loathe text talk.  
• Pandas are assholes.
• The patriarchy sucks.
• There is nothing redeemable about a Tuesday. 
• Glitter is the herpes of crafts
• Never trust a girl without girlfriends.
• Or squirrels.
• Always, always smell the milk first
• Generic applesauce and oatmeal taste like cardboard
• There is no such thing as a "quick trip to Ikea."
• Don't buy generic toilet paper. Ever
• Tupperware is unable to be organized and is my nemesis.
• You can never have too many coats.
• Or chairs.
• Or books! (don't you say a thing dr soc!)
• Removing that stay hair bothering the crap out of you from your clothes is one of life's greatest victories.
• With small children it's best not to ask what a stain is.
• Wearing a dress or skirt with pockets automatically defaults to a good day.
• I cannot please everybody. I am not a taco.
• A taco can fix almost everything.
• I'm very likeable.

Santa's Bag

Want to hear how I was almost the asshole who ruined Christmas?

Dr soc and I were out to dinner the other night and we were talking about our friends who are going to keep the magic of Santa going for as long as possible since their 10 year old still believes. Which we love and intend to do ourselves because we're both Santa fans.

me: Oh how great! Because I remember how bummed I was when I found out --
--I abruptly stopped--

I realized at that moment there were young kids all around us who may or may not still believe in Santa Claus. And several of them kept looking over towards our table and smiling at the baby because she's adorable. And I had almost let the cat out of the proverbial bag. I beckon to my husband to come closer and in a hushed tone I said we were surrounded by kids and I could have almost ruined Santa. He glances around and a look of understanding crosses his face because, like me, he assumed since our baby doesn't understand 75% of what we saying yet, it didn't occur to us other little ears may be listening either.

So then in a normal voice we continue our conversation but I amend my statement a little.
me: I was so disappointed was when I found out how much my parents helped Santa out.

Phew, 2016 will go down as the year I wasn't the asshole stranger who ruined Christmas for those kids. Because let's be honest, we all remember that asshole who ruined Santa for us. (I eventually figured it out on my own, but admittedly I was pretty slow on the uptake)    

Bad Dog

Dr soc told me he was going for a jog this morning before my doctor's appointment while I was still in bed sleeping in a little bit (omg with the pregnancy tired). Shortly after that I heard a rustling/crinkling noise coming from downstairs, but my concept of time was so off I just assumed he hadn't left yet and was making a lot of noise in the kitchen for some reason. Turns out, it was not dr soc, it was Jules.

That little dog went into my purse, ignored the peanut butter crackers and ate about a 1/4-1/2 cup of salted almonds. I called the vet and she'll be fine, but damit dog those almonds were my best pregnancy snack! Then Mike noticed a paw print on the couch table, and he said he had thrown a different wrapper in the trash yesterday but he didn't know what it was from. Upon closer inspection of the destroyed bag and crumbs, I realized she had eaten a huge peanut butter cookie. Probably about the same time Mike was mowing the lawn and I wasn't home from work yet.  

That little bitch figured out when her free range time. Yeah, we're not leaving her unattended anymore...

Math is Hard

At least 1992 Teen Talk Barbie thought so. (Apparently the actual saying is "math class is tough!" But "math is hard!" is funnier and Barbie has a pink convertible and a dream home, so, yeah, I'm going to make fun of her a little bit) Now my math skills can get rusty like anything else if you use them, but in general math is something I "get" and isn't an impossible task.

Unless. It involves the 1990's.
I will explain.

We were going through the materials at work that hadn't circulated in 2+ years. Some stuff was just not on the shelf, some were outdated and some were just plain terrible books that should have never been printed in the first place.

One of the books that circulated in some time was the book Kids, Computers, and Homework. It was the last copy in the entire system, but it was also one of those outdated materials I was referring to earlier. Even with it's awesome graphics I couldn't see a reason to keep it in circulation.

me: When was that published?
coworker: 1995. There probably isn't any relative information in this thing.
me: 1995? ~I quickly do the math~ Yeah, that was nearly 10 years ago. There might have been a few changes in computers in that time.  
coworker: Ten? You mean 20 years ago...
me: ::pause:: ~quickly do the math again~ Shit! You're right. What the hell?! How are the 90s not 10 years ago? Because I remember the 90s and I swear that was only 10 years ago.
coworker:  I don't know, I remember them too.
me: I seriously don't understand how someone born in 1992 can legally drink. Math is hard when it comes to the 90s.

think it through

dr soc (on facebook): I'd be all about a moat if we didn't have to worry about snakes.........or the HOA. 
me (on fbk): Actually per our hoa, as long as the moat is within a 3' radius of the perimeter of the house, we can landscape how we see fit. The snakes though....I got nothing.
facebook friend: Snakes are why you have outdoor cats.
me (in head): Outdoor cats* are feral and disgusting creatures. No fcking way. 
me (on fbk): Nope, per the hoa, no outdoor animals either.

Anyway. I was reiterating this conversation at work to my coworker who is just fabulous. She and I have similar thought processes so when I mentioned I had no idea how to get rid of the snakes (which she is also terrified of), her response was:

coworker: That's what the alligators are for! Duh!
me: Of course! Clearly you have thought this though!
coworker: Well, kinda. I had this conversation with my kids when they were little, and they gave me the alligator solution when they wanted a moat for our yard.  
me: Your kids are a little brilliant. 

*Indoor cats aren't my cup of tea either, but in my defense I am allergic to them. I'm not going to hold it against someone for having them and I take the good behind the counter allergy pills when vising feline homes. But as far as me ever owning on? No fcking way.  

Milk Sandwiches

So we're getting real snow in North Carolina and the city is shutting down. The schools and libraries closed early and both have already call a snow day for tomorrow. Turns out you get just as excited about a snow day as an adult as you did when you were a kid. Well, at least you do when you have a salary so you don't worry about your paycheck being short, don't have to figure out childcare* plans and the only person you need to entertain is yourself. I'm pretty sure I'll change my tune to that last part after we have kids and a snow day means: oh crap what am I going to do to entertain the minions?**

Since Mike is grew up in Northeast Ohio snow was a matter of when not if. I grew up in Kentucky and we didn't get snow that often, but I know to keep a snow brush in my car and to charge all my battery powered devices just in case we loose power. So whenever snow is mentioned in the south, I always make a crack about needing to buying bread and milk. (We usually actually do need both though, Mike goes through both really fast!) Anyway, yesterday it was just a possibility of snow and everyone was freaking the fck out. I needed to run by the pharmacy so I was going to grab dinner too on my way home from class. I was going to get Panera but on on my way there I passed the grocery store. I thought: cheaper, better chance of leftovers and faster than waiting for take out. Yes. Good plan.


Yeah no. That was a grave misjudgement on my part. Because I forgot about every other southerner's need to make milk sandwiches whenever the S-word is mentioned.

*We're really lucky that and that the industries we work in if the kids have a snow day, more than likely at least one of us will have a snow day as well.
**Crafts. So. Many. Crafts.***
***But no glitter. Glitter is not allowed in my house.  

Adventures in Exercise

-5:50 pm-
mike: What time did you want to go to the gym?
::I check my Y's exercise class schedule on the internets::
me: There's a zumba class at 6:45 I'd could go to. Lets go then.
6: 40 pm- ::at the gym::
mike: I'll see you in an hour after your class. Come get me if I'm not done by them.
me: Sure thing. See you in about an hour
6:45 pm- ::I arrive at where zumba is:: 
me: hmm, they're using a lot of equipment, and this posted class schedule says this is a step/strength class...Shit. Oh well, I'll give it a try, here goes.
6:55 - OK, so this is definitely NOT like zumba. But I'll just try to keep up.
7:00 - Yeah, I'm just going to have to work at my own pace.
7:10 - Now we're using weights. I can do some weight work.
7:12 - Maybe I can do light weights next rep.
7:15 - I hate weights. 
7:20 - God I wish this was zumba
7:23 - I'll do the reps but forgo the weights.
7:25 - I hate reps.
7:30 - Just ten more minutes. I can do ten more minutes!
7:35 - I think I'm going to throw up
7:40 - I still think I'm going to throw up. Must remain standing. Must find husband. Must remain standing to find husband.
7:42 - ::see husband!::
me: That wasn't zumba.
mike: No? Was it pilates?
me: God no. It was a step/strength class. It kicked my ass. And I'm really nauseous now.
mike: OK, I'll finish up in about 5 minutes. You go sit down.
me (weakly): OK.
::I sat down for a few minutes in the locker room which helped the nausea::
7:45 -
me (sadly): The internets lied to me. How could they? I should pick up a paper copy of the class schedule so I can double check next time.
-7:50 --Mike approaches the chair I managed to get half my butt on. I missed the first time and it was too much effort to try to get the other half on there as well. 
mike: hey, you look a little better. You ready to go?
me: Yes. So, I looked at the paper schedule. The 6:45 step/strength class is right here on the schedule for room two. And the 6:45 zumba class is on the schedule . In room one. -pause- I'm a dumbass.
mike: Aw!
me: Yeah. Oh well, I'm going to consider my entire aching being a just punishment for thinking the internets had forsaken me.
mike: OK dear, Let's go get some dinner. And hey, at least it wasn't pilates.
me: Truth. If it had been I would have walked out the second I figured it out. I hate pilates.
mike: I know you do.
me: Seriously, fuck pilates.

Next Year

My husband is a die hard (long suffering) Browns fan.  And since I love my husband, I cheer right along side of him, unless they are playing Panthers. All bets are off when they are playing my Panthers, but that is   unlikely since they are in different conferences.

Anyway, one of the first things I learned as a Browns fan is the phrase "there's always next year." After watching my husband cringe and shake his head while watching games, I've used it a decent amount. But it can only go so far as to comforting, especially if it is the beginning of the season..

The other day were watching a game and the Browns were, well, the Browns. 

me: It's ok honey, there's always next year.
mike: It IS next year!

So it looks like I have a few more things to lean as a Browns fan. Like, that "there's always next year" is a 2nd half of the season phrase. Duly noted.

Dog's Day Out

Last week Mike was vacuuming the house for Jeanne and Matt's and kids visit,when I heard the phone ring. I didn't recognize the number, but I asked my husband to stop for a second and picked up the phone.  The caller confused me at first by starting the conversation with telling me she was around the corner, but she had my full undivided attention when she told me our dogs were loose. Turns out the fence gate had been slightly open and they had escaped, and we were none the wiser.

I thanked the caller profusely and promptly told my husband the girls were loose, to which he immediately ran out the door to find them. I grabbed my shoes, their leashes and followed suit. It probably only took less than 60 seconds to reach them, but it was a long 60 seconds.  Because even though I knew everyone was ok and that it would be fine, it's still a moment of panic when you realize that your beloved dogs aren't where you thought they were and you didn't keep them safe.

The caller and girls were right where they said they were, and they both looked as happy as clams with big, tongue lolling goofy grins on their faces while they they sniffed the other dogs (who were probably the same dogs they had seen and had escaped the yard to get to). And when they saw mommy and daddy running towards them they got even happier, enjoying their escape, none the wiser they had scared the ever living crap out of.

As I was sprinting towards the girls (and I am not a sprinter, I'm a distance runner) it took me about 15 seconds to realize that the caller had called the home number on Bailey's id's tag that she always, always wears. I used to scratch her name and my cell number on the back of her licence when we lived in Kentucky, but it was pretty crude id. Once we moved to North Carolina and got settled, I got her an engraved one with her name and our contact information.  Bailey's also micro chipped, but that would only come in handy if she was taken to a shelter and they scanned her.  Jules has an id tag as well, but she doesn't wear it all the time (oh believe me, she does now), and she also wasn't micro chipped either until 2 days ago. So we're even more lucky that the girls stayed together when they escaped, or else we might have not gotten them both back. 

Anyway, once we reached them, we leashed them up and took them the short walk back home. They pranced all the way back. Of course they did. Of course they did.

Karma

Yesterday I broke down and picked up chickfila on my way home from work. I say broke down because while I wasn't making an effort to boycott them, I also wasn't going out of my way to give them my business.  I was more so surprised at the recent media frenzy everything turned into more so than what the media frenzy was about. I mean, the company closes on Sundays so everyone can go to church, I figured their stance on homosexuality was the pink elephant in the room.

Anyway. I was tired after work, it was on my way home, and I didn't want to make lunch for myself. So I stopped in for a quick and easy lunch.  I got my usual nuggets, but what I really wanted was the lemonade for some reason. No one made any kind of scene, I ordered, it was processed in a timely fashion and I was on my way.  

Well. The homophobic chicken was almost strait from the hate fryer so I ended up burning my mouth.  And then the lemonade mixed with something and tasted way off.

Pretty sure that was god's way of telling me to not eat homophobic chicken anymore. Duly noted.

12+ month pregnancy

me: What I learned on my run today: I definitely need new sports bras.
laura: Or you're prego.
me: Of course! You know what else I learned? Once you're married, your birth control stops working.
laura: And people accuse you of being pregnant all the time. True facts.
me: It starts when you're engaged. But if you tell people that your dress has no seam allowance for a baby bump, they stop for a few months.

Joker Face

Bailey has never been a good traveler.  She started getting car sick as a puppy and then never out grew it as I hoped she would.  On top of the motion sickness, she gets anxious and moves around a lot, which makes her feel worse.  So I medicate her to make traveling easier on all of us. 

As Mike and I were getting ready to travel last week, I made sure to check we had enough pills for Bailey.  But I wondered that since Bailey is almost 5 (and has gray hair!), if by this point, she had outgrown her car sickness by now.  But since she's been medicated every (long) car trip since she was 2 I didn't know one way or the other.  But I wasn't about test my wonder by stopping the meds one way or the other. (and besides, Bailey sedated is funny)

So we're driving through the mountains of North Carolina, and I can tell the meds didn't exactly work this time.  Bailey never really calmed down from the start of the trip, so she's up and down, back and forth and just looking all around in the back seat.  I keep looking back to check on her, when I see her start to lick her nose, which is a telltale sign she's not feeling good.  And then, I see what I call her "joker face," this horrible, pinched look where the corners of her mouth pinch up and back and her eyes squint shut.  Helplessly, I just watch her get sick all over the backseat.

The poor thing looks at me for a second, her mess, and then starts to frantically cover it with the blanket we had in the backseat.  She pulls part of the blanket over it then noses it in place as if she was burying something.  She covers it enough to her liking, and plops down with a nothing to see here look.  We pulled over to get gas a few miles later, so I cleaned out the, umm, we'll say chunky parts best I could, and continued on our way without any more joker faces.  The trip home the meds worked like they should have and we made it home without incident.

But I guess I got my answer as to whether or not Bailey had out grown her car sickness. Greaaaat. 

What Kids Know

Remember how last year a neighborhood dog followed Mike home and for a few hours we had a 3rd dog?  Happened again yesterday. Only this time, the dog started to follow me when I was walking Bailey and Jules, and I took him home.  See, Mike treated the lawn yesterday, so I had to take the dogs on a walk to go potty.  And it was a beautiful day yesterday with the sun and the slight breeze and warmer temperatures (have I mentioned I love Charlotte weather?), so I get the girls leashed up, and we start taking a jaunt around the neighborhood.
Long story short, a cute little dog with a collar started to follow me and the girls home.  The address on the tag isn't from the neighborhood, and it's not a local area code either.  I knew I couldn't just walk away, because if it were my girls lost, I would hope someone would do the same for then.  So I scoop up the little guy and carry him home with me on my hip and take everyone back home.
I get everyone crated, call the phone number, and google search the address. This tag is from an hour and a half away.  I start to freak out.  I don't know how far away from home he is, when's the last time this dog has eaten, or how long to keep him.  I text Mike to let him know we have a 3rd dog at the moment, and just wait for him to come home to help formulate a plan.

Fortunately, Mike's home in an hour, and he thinks the best plan is to walk around the neighborhood with little dog to try to find the owner.  We still have the 3rd leash from when we took in Buddy, so the girls get their second walk of the day.  As we're walking along the area when I found little guy, there's a few kids playing in the front yard across the street.  Mike has the brilliant idea to ask them who the stranger dog belongs too.  They all say "that's Sparky! He lives there!" and point to the house next to me.  Mike rings the bell, and a kid answers the door and is happy to see Sparky. Fortunately the kid's mom is right behind him and when she sees Sparky, she is visibly relieved and thanking us profusely.  So we're now 2 for 2 on finding escaped dogs in the neighborhood and  returning them to their owners. 

But I learned a lesson from taking Sparky in for a few hours.  I learned that when in doubt, ask the neighborhood kids.  Because kids know dogs!

I know better

Thirteen pounds of tissue paper was just delivered to my house. Let the crafting begin!
However, before said 13 lbs was delivered, I knew I had to practice what I would be making so as not to have a hot glue mess adorning my wedding day.  So I bought some tissue paper packs from the dollar store to practice with.  Everything was going according to plan.

Except.

That I had a serious lapse in judgement and bought one (one!) package of tissue paper with glitter.  So now that herpes of crafts is all over my dining room table.

Crafting FAIL.

peanut butter w/a touch of crack

When Bailey was a puppy, I had to learn how to give her lots of pills in a short amount of time, what with  her parvo and knee surgeries an all (see: million dollar dog. see also: why I'll never want another puppy*).

With the parvo, hiding the pills in her food didn't work, so she took her pills in the pill pockets the vet gave us for a while. However, those pill pockets ran out but the pills didn't. And those pill pockets aren't exactly pocketbook friendly either, so I wasn't chomping at the bit to buy her a whole lot more of them (not to mention that someone said they would pick some up from the vet and then someone never did).  And then when the knee surgery, she was taking 10-12 pills a day. No way was going to buy a new bag of pill pockets every few days, especially after a $1000+ surgery alone.(though, I would imagine that part of the $1000 included the morphine drip.  Which, I know made her comfortable when she was alone, so it was worth every penny) So I learned the quickest, most efficient way to give Bailey pills is to literally, shove them down her throat. It wasn't exactly the nicest way, and yes she ran aways from me the second she swallowed, but she got her meds. (and forgot about in 2 minutes time and was cuddling right back up to me). I just figured that this was the way Bailey would take pills from now on.

Until I met dr soc. He gave Jules her allergy pills and any other medication via crunchy peanut butter.  And peanut butter, is crack to dogs. Bloody 'effing brilliant if you ask me. One day I tried it with Bailey, which, OHMYGOD a billion times easier.  She snarfed it down, licked her chops and wagged her tail in hopes for more. Now, lesson learned, Bailster always gets her pills** with a healthy side of doggie crack!
 
* No honey. No puppy. I don't care how much sharktopus and dinocroc say i want one. they are liers***.
**With pills it's ok to take with food that is. empty stomach pills go down the old fashioned way
***Yes, I just called my future children liers. Don't judge me.

Statue of Limitations

--while we're registering--
mike: An $80 plate?
me: Yeah, it's a good "couple" gift to give.
mike: Couple gift?
me: A gift you give if you're a couple.  Too much for one person to give, but not quite big enough for it to be a group gift.
mike: oh I see. So the mixer is a group gift, but the fancy platter is something that we give.
me: Exactly.
mike: Still, $80 for a plate.
me: I know. Like the time I gave a $70 something silver platter as a wedding present and signed 2 names to the card.  And I had already spent $30 on her shower gift. Then the couple goes and divorces less than 2 years later.
mike: Ouch.
me: Yep. To be honest, I kinda want my gift back.

Coffee Maker

Never ask a non-coffee drinker to set up your coffee maker for you. I doesn't end well.
I love my fiance.  I can prove this because I drove him to the airport at 5am* this morning.  It being an early flight and me having to work late last night meant we would have to go to bed almost as soon as I got home.  And knowing that I wouldn't be awake enough to drive if I didn't have coffee in the morning, I needed to set my delay brew (one of the worlds best inventions in my opinion).  However, I didn't figure this out until right before I needed to leave for work.  So as I'm putting on my shoes about to run out the door, I asked Mike if he could set up my coffee for the morning. 

He says yes but a look of concern crosses his face.  I give him the cliff notes version: water, filter, coffee. I'll set up the timer, and the look of concern goes away.  I get home last night, set the timer, open the lid and see there is coffee in the filter and think nothing more of it.  This morning I hear the (obnoxious) beeps of my coffee maker after it's done brewing, and I start to pour it into my travel mug...and it's just cold water in the pot.  He got the water** part.  He just didn't pour it into the coffee maker...

Fortunately, there was time for me to pour the water into the proper place and brew the coffee for real.  And because my love for him trumps my caffeine addiction, I just found the whole thing silly and not annoying. But lesson learned nonetheless.

*It's the 5 am part that proves I love him. Airport pickup/drop off duties are part of duties once you have been fiance-ed, if that stage has not already been reached in your relationship.     
**An ex wanted to make a cup of coffee to stay up late (after telling me that he was stronger than me for not having a caffeine dependency the week before), so he stared at the coffee maker wondering how the coffee maker magically turned the solid coffee grinds into liquid.

Boy Logic

mike: I'm going to start some laundry.
me in my head: what an awesome husband to be!
me out loud: Cool. What are you going to wash?
mike: The whites. Or the colors. Do you have more pressing need for either of those?
me: Nope.
mike: Ok. Though they are both sort of small, I may combine the loads.
me in my head: NOOOOOOO!!!
me out loud: Um, don't do that.
mike (slightly confused): Uh, ok. How come?
me in my head: Seriously he doesn't know that? That's like a cardinal rule of laundry!  Oh, right, I live with a boy.
me out loud: The colors could bleed.
mike: Um ok...
me in my head: quick, must think of another reason justifying 2 small loads of laundry! Oh! Our washer is smart! Yes! That may work!
me: Honey, we have a smart washer, it knows how much water to use.
mike: Oh. Ok. Really?
me in my head: Hell if I know.
me out loud: Yep.
mike: ok
me in my head: Phew!

Darling, I love you more than words can ever say and I appreciate everything you do.  Forgive me, I just couldn't help but tease a little.

I AM your teenage dream

TrueBlood came back Sunday, but HBO's too expensive here, so I don't get to watch it (SOBS!) right away.  I'm dvr-ing it at my parent's house so I'll have a major watch binge in a few weeks, but still, it hurts.  So on Sunday, as I was trying to ignore the fact that it was 9:01 and I was flower researching instead of vampire watching, Mike starts flipping though the tv guide.  And Syfy has a new movie: Swamp Shark. 

If there's one thing that I've learned since being with Mike, is that made for tv syfy channel movies are so incredibly campy and terrible, that they are freaking awesome.  This is the is perfect distraction to my Trueblood deprivation!  So as he pauses on Swamp Shark, I say "why haven't you flipped to that yet?!?!" 

It was terrible, but in an awesome way.  The next night, there is still nothing on, so I flip to the NFL's top 100 players of 2011.  If there's another thing I've learned about since being with dr soc, is that he cannot live without NFL football. (When we first started dating I told him about my fantasy football team specifically for the reason that I hoped it would make him like me more. (and it worked!))  So as we're watching this count down, I had this realization:

Yesterday I insisted we watch a syfy movie and I just flipped to football related tv.  I am my fiance's dream woman.

Higher Ed

So I took the GRE again yesterday.  The good news is that my verbal score went up 50 points!  However, my quantitative score went down 50 points....so I have the exact same score as I did before.

However, I feel ok about this.  Because this GRE, my verbal score was a 10 points higher than my quantitative score.  And I have a feeling that with library school, most want your verbal score to be the higher of the two.  After the test I felt good enough about it to even send my scores to the grad school I want to get into.  

I didn't study for my SATs or ACTs, and I still got into college.  And while I did study for the GRE, a distracted hour or two a day doesn't actually do much good.  But I feel ok about everything.  I was way more relaxed this time around, and the score I needed/wanted to go up did.
  
It's funny though, because I studied the verbal section more my first test, and ended up having that be my lower score.  This time I studied the math section more and that was my lower score.  So the moral of the story is, studying is bad.