Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Celebration, Pain, and a Ride on a Private Plane

This past weekend Little Husband took his first flight ever to visit a great aunt who was terminally ill. What's significant about this is that a family member had the means and felt it worthwhile to charter a private plane, so Little Husband's first plane ride ever was in serious style. Crazy. My first plane ride ever was when I was 18 and it definitely wasn't a chartered plane.

This morning we awoke to some fabulous news--my little niece was born! I am so excited to meet her in August. Then we were met with some not-so-fabulous news...Little Husband's great aunt passed away. What's interesting is that the time of death and the time of birth appear to have been at exact the same time, give or take a minute. No kidding, no exaggeration. The two are from completely separate families so it's not as if someone can claim 'reincarnation' or anything, but still it's interesting.

Oh, and it's Little Husband's grandmother's birthday as well. Happy birthday, Nana!

Friday, June 26, 2009

A Baby Called "Head"

When Husband was in high school he was one of those guys that stood 5'11" and weighed 135 lbs---a true bean pole. Unfortunately, his head didn't get the message about staying in proportion with his body so it grew and grew and grew. This was the 70's so his big 'fro of curly hair didn't exactly help matters. From what Husband tells me, he looked like a lollipop. As we all know, kids can be cruel and the kids at his school--where Husband was a minority--were no exception. In order to keep from getting his a$$ kicked on a daily basis, Husband took up basketball and became friends with all the guys on the team. A wise move. Still, that didn't prevent his new found "friends" from teasing him and one day, as he was walking down the hall, he heard one of his teammates call out, "Hey--that's the dude they call 'Head'".

The guy was talking about Husband.

Fast forward to June 26th, 2009 where I am sitting at my laptop furiously inputting Little Husband's measurements (taken today) into a Baby Growth Percentile Calculator. Here's what it came back with:

Height - 25th percentile
Weight - less than 5th percentile
Head - greater than 95th percentile

Look familiar?

We're installing a basketball hoop pronto!

Happenings...

Here is what our little Brookstone weather monitor is telling us about the weather outside:



Seriously, it's 89 degrees but "feels like 108"??? What on earth did Texans do before air conditioning came along?

Yesterday, on my way to meet the girls for dinner I saw this:



Even though it was 107 yesterday, the dog seemed fine, happy even. It was kind of cute.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Zero interpersonal skills? Come sit next to me!

Ever had one of those weeks where you're a freak magnet? I seem to be having one right now. Here are my freak stories in order of appearance (all of these stories are going to start out with, "I was minding my own business..."):

Two days ago I was minding my own business while putting gas in my car. Suddenly a *very* friendly guy materialized out of nowhere and walked up to me with a big smile on his face as he called out, "Hey there!" So friendly was he that I thought for a moment that I knew him. It wasn't until he busted out his cleaning solution spray bottle--the kind they use at NASCAR, apparently--that I realized I did not know him at all. He proceeds to start spraying my car (without asking) and cleaning certain areas to demonstrate the superior cleaning power of his NASCAR product. Mind you, there could have just been water in that bottle, for all I knew, but why split hairs?

I considered making a joke about feeling like I'd been transported to a stop light in the seedier part of Baltimore but thought better of it.

Anyway, he continues talking and cleaning and I notice he has a trainee watching his every move. Apparently his parent company thought that he had some mad sales skills. Every time he sprayed another area, he'd hand me the bottle to hold, as if I was going to examine it in all its greatness. At one point I burst out laughing (at him, I admit) but he didn't seem to get the joke. Finally he revealed the price: $25 for a bottle and with that bottle you get five, count them, FIVE full washes that you get to do yourself! I didn't want to burst his bubble by pointing out the car wash not ten feet away that will do the exact same thing without my having to lift a finger. I just looked at the bottle, then the car wash, then politely declined.

Super Sales Guy immediately looked past me as if I were of no further interest to him (because I wasn't!) and walked off towards his next sucker.

I headed toward the car wash.

-------------------------

Yesterday I was minding my own business, walking from the bathroom to the living room when some guy opened up my front door and poked his head in. "Hello?" he called out. "Oh hi," he said when he saw me. I stopped dead in my tracks and blocked him from coming in. All 5'2" of me.

So stunned was I that I just stared at him. Encouraged, he started babbling.

"I noticed that you are getting new carpet installed and I know the builder of this house and I was going to ask the carpet guys for the remnants. You see, I use them for my dogs to lay on so that they don't have to lay on the hard floor (insert syrupy, animal loving smile here). I know the builder and he doesn't mind when I ask for remnants--I do it all the time. I was just driving by when I saw the workers' trucks. Actually, I saw them this morning but I couldn't stop then so I came back. Anyway, if they have remnants I sure will take them because I know the builder."

"The builder?" I asked, none-too-friendly. "Do you think this house is under construction?"

"Well I assume they are just finishing up..." Seeing the look on my face, his voice trailed off.

"This house is NOT new, in fact, we have been living here for ten years! This is our private home and you are scaring me. There is a baby here (why did I say that?!?) and you shouldn't be walking into our house!"

"Oh, well, I didn't mean to scare you. I just saw the workers' tools here so I was going to knock but then figured it would be okay to poke my head in and call out to them. You see? I didn't even come inside. I mean, the builder is my friend and all..."

"Okay, look, we want to keep our remnants, thank you, and this house is not under construction, okay?" I put my hand on the door knob to indicate that the door was about to be closed in his face.

"No problem...maybe you ought to lock the door..."

(sound of door shutting in his face)

What chafes me is that I get a lot of flack for locking my house up like Fort Knox (hey, I'm a DC girl at heart) and the ONE TIME the door is unlocked some creep tries to walk in. The door was unlocked because the workers kept having to go out to their truck and tools and it made no sense to keep locking the door on them. Plus, we have a front gate that usually deters people from coming into our front yard. What scares me is that had it been 30 seconds earlier, I would have been in the bathroom and this creep probably would have walked into my house. What scares me more is that Little Husband was asleep in the corner of the living room.

----------------------------

Today I was at the grocery store, picking out some food and minding my own business when some older man starts following me back to my cart. "You know," he said eyeing the prepackaged mashed potatoes in my hand, "my wife makes mashed potatoes from scratch and they are the best on the planet. You really should try making them fresh instead of buying the premade ones."

Seriously? Did some dude really just give me, a harried mother with a seven-month-old in tow, flack about buying ready-made food?

"Actually, they're free." I told him.

"They--they are?" Bewildered, his head whips around to the mashed potato display and he begins madly reading the sign above them.

"Yes. If you buy 2 lbs of chicken breast, the mashed potatoes are free. I bought 2 lbs of chicken so I'm getting my free mashed potatoes."

Recovering, he stands a little taller and starts in on his sermon again. "Well my wife makes them from scratch..."

"So do I," I interrupted, "But these are free so it made sense to take them."

Undeterred, he kept talking. "And you can buy whatever potato you want because it won't matter, my wife's mashed potatoes are still better than yours."

"Okay, well I'm sure you're right." I said patronizingly as I backed away.

What gives? I mean really--what gives? Am I wearing some sort of sign?

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Dear Dad

I just found your Father's Day card, the one I bought several weeks ago, hiding in a drawer along with Husband's Father's Day Helicopter gift. Whoops--sorry about that! I'll still mail it, but obviously it will be several days late. In order to make up for my oversight, I will post a special Father's Day video taken only a few short hours ago of your seven-month-old grandson squealing. I hope you like it and Happy Father's Day to the best father a girl could ever have. I love you, Dad!

video

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

For Husband

They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true. Okay, so I stole that line from a movie, but it's so apropos to what happened the day I met Husband that I give myself permission to use it as if it is my own. Here's what happened...

I was walking up the stairs of a restaurant with an upper section that overlooks the lake near my house. It was July 26th of 2002 and the air was muggy and humid so I was pulling my hair up off my neck as I reached the landing. Right then I looked up and locked eyes with the most handsome man I had ever seen. Tall, with thick, dark, wavy hair and hazel eyes, he was dashing--my ideal. His eyes widened when he saw me, and I took this as a good sign. I knew I had to meet him but I didn't know how to approach him. I've never been comfortable chasing men.

I was new to Austin and was at a UT MBA alumni happy hour as a guest of my cousin. I didn't know a soul, but that's never deterred me before. As I made my way over to the group, I realized that he was attending the happy hour as well. This was good news as I figured that I could make my way around the crowd and eventually catch his attention. I managed to accomplish this in, oh, 10 minutes or so.

We stood next to each other and I was immediately at ease as I drew him into a conversation. He had a perpetual smile while talking, and his relaxed manner only encouraged me. We quickly found out that we were both from DC and both never wanted to move back. I have no idea how much time passed as we stood there locked in conversation, but as the sun was going down his friends invited me to join them for a beer at another restaurant. I was dead tired and really didn't want to go, but I sensed that I might never see him again if I gave up this opportunity, so I accepted. I then turned to Prospective Husband and asked, "are you going to the restaurant too?"

"Yes," he responded, "Me and my girlfriend will be there."

It was as if I had been punched in the gut.

I try always to stick to my promises and commitments so despite this terrible letdown, I joined the group at the next restaurant. Prospective Husband was there as was his very pretty girlfriend. At that moment I gave up on him and decided to just enjoy my new friends and think nothing more of this guy who was so perfect for me. At some point Prospective Husband left with his girlfriend only to return 20 minutes later; he was in a rage.

Okay, maybe not quite a *rage*, but he was pretty mad as he stalked into the restaurant, slammed his fist down on the bar and declared, "I need a drink!"

For those of you who have met Husband, you know that this is completely out of character for him as he is normally very level-headed and mild mannered.

"Uh oh, looks like they had another fight," one of his friends muttered to me. "Those two are always fighting. I don't know why they're still dating."

Prior to Prospective Husband's return I was about to go home, however, as my favorite saying goes: Daddy didn't raise a dummy. I stayed.

It didn't take long to cajole Prospective Husband out of his foul mood and get him smiling again. It never does. We moved our party to a popular rooftop bar where Prospective Husband and I talked while his friends scoped out girls. We talked until 2 am as he opened up to me about the troubles in his four-month-old relationship. "It shouldn't be that hard," I told him.

He should have listened to me.

A few weeks later found us meeting for coffee at a favorite lake front coffee shop. It was a Friday afternoon and I thought it was a date so I took great pains to wear something cute lest he invite me to dinner afterward. Apparently he thought it was a friendly networking session as he gave me advice about who I might contact in my search for a job. After 30 minutes he looked at his watch, stretched, thanked me for the nice time and announced that he had to go meet his parents and girlfriend for dinner. I was dumbstruck but somehow managed to wish him a good time. In fact, I was in such shock that, as I was backing out of my parking space, I crashed my car into a fire hydrant. Mortified, I looked around wildly to see if he'd witnessed my stupidity. Funny that in a time like that, I cared more about his reaction than the huge, expensive dent in my car.

Years went by and we ran into each other from time-to-time, but he was still dating that same girl. Funny, though, I never saw her with him. Even funnier is that whenever we did see each other (usually at a party) we would hang out for hours talking and laughing. I was so at ease with him and so in love with him but I knew it was hopeless. He had a girlfriend and he saw me as just a friend and I had to respect that. Not once did he ever flirt with me or lead me on which caused me to respect and love him even more.

Almost four years after we met, in a moment of sick-of-dating-losers-weakness, signed up for eHarmony. Actually it was Melek who encouraged me to do so. She'd met her fabulous boyfriend on that site so I decided that the same might happen to me. I duly paid my $110, answered the 436 questions and pressed "send". Three days later I checked my email and nearly fell out of my desk chair: Prospective Husband was one of my matches. It turns out that he and his girlfriend had broken up the year before.

The very next year Prospective Husband became my husband.

And the year after that? Little Husband was born.

Happy second wedding anniversary, Darling. I will never forget the day I laid eyes on you.