It’s A Dress!

My husband and I had a date afternoon yesterday, which we spent returning the asshole laptop to Best Buy (since it wouldn’t update and crashed) and going to Kohl’s to get a few things with some coupons I had. (I got $220 worth of stuff for $44!) The romance is alive! ūüėČ

While we were looking at stuff in the women’s section, my husband decided to try to help me find something. He thinks he has good taste, and maybe he does, but his taste and my taste differ quite a bit.

“Hey, look at this–it’s a dress,” Sam said, pointing to what was indeed a dress.

“Oh, it’s a dress,” I said dryly.

“Yeah…it’s a dress…?” he asked questioningly while holding it out to me, wanting to know whether I wanted it.

I sighed. “It’s a dress!” He knows how I feel about dresses.

“But it’s a nice dress.”

“It’s still a dress.”

If there had been people nearby, I’m sure that little exchange would have gotten an odd look or two. Afterwards, I was amused with that conversation since we both said the same thing repeatedly, but our emphasis and inflection changed each time, making what we said mean something different.

I did not get that dress, in case you didn’t figure that out. I did get a Star Wars shirt with the Millennium Falcon on it, though. Sexy stuff, there.


Steal My Identity, Please

Things get misplaced in our house a lot. Certain people never put things back in their proper places, and chaos ensues whenever the person in charge of handling things needs the misplaced item.

Usually my husband is at fault for losing things. Check books, bills, important documents. He’s lost his social security card and Little Man’s birth certificate before. He replaced the former and we found the latter.

As you can imagine, with my tendency to be a bit high strung (to put it lightly), I don’t tend to react well when items are misplaced.¬†Well, now I’ve lost something. Somethings, actually. And it’s one of the biggest fuck-ups of my life thanks to the potential outcomes this loss could have.

We have four safes in our house. No, we don’t have that many valuable objects by a long shot. One has a few coins and stamps and other miscellaneous things I collected as a kid; one has random objects of sentimental value my husband has picked up along the way; another has letters; and the last has things that really belong in a safe–my guns, credit cards, bullets, and medications.

That’s what it has now. It used to also (occasionally) have our passports, birth certificates, Social Security cards, and marriage license.

Yes, “used.”

Prior to a month or so ago, when I finally got Baby Girl’s birth certificate, these personal items were scattered in various places throughout the house. If you wanted, say, my birth certificate and Little Man’s Social Security card, you’d have to go on a treasure hunt. You might find one item in the letters safe and the other item in my husband’s desk.

And when BG’s birth certificate came in, I had a great idea–“why don’t I collect these items, put them all in an envelope, and put them in the one important safe. That way they’ll be all together. And if we need one of the items, we’ll just take the envelope, keep everything together, and do whatever we need and put the envelope back when we’re done.”

I now see what an idiot I was. Keeping everything, all the items needed to prove our identities, get credit, etc., in one place? Sigh.

A couple weeks ago, Sam and I set out to the bank to open a savings account for BG. We’d been sticking all of her money in a fancy cup that’s on display in the kitchen (not in the safe, because what sense would that make?). Now that we had her birth certificate, it was time to give her the real thing.

I got the envelope full of important documents and off we went. I was so fucking nervous that something was going to happen to it. I realized then how¬†stupid it was to carry everything at once–what if?!¬†As it turned out, the bank was busy and we couldn’t get in to see anyone about opening the account, so we decided to try another day.

Yesterday I went to get something out of the important safe. And I realized the big envelope wasn’t in there.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. 

We’ve searched everywhere. We’ve looked in the car, all over the house, and that fucking envelope¬†is nowhere to be found. As you can imagine, I was freaking the hell out.

“Gah, I hate myself, I’ve pretty much told all the thieves in there world, ‘here, let me making it really fucking simple to steal our identities!'” I told Sam in tears. “I mean, I have possibly ruined our kids’ futures!”

Sam tried to console me. “Maybe I was the one who lost it,” he suggested.

“No, I didn’t trust you to hold the envelope,” I told him.

More freaking out ensued. Anxiety attack. We searched again. Nothing. More anxiety and tears. I have no idea how I could have lost it, considering how freaked out I was about carrying it to the bank. Even on the way home, I had it clutched in my hands, worrying over it. And I have absolutely no memory of doing anything with it afterwards. It’s so fucking weird.

“Look, you either left it in the car and it got stuck in some trash or you brought it inside and it got mistaken as trash and thrown away. I doubt any thief is going to go through our trash and find that envelope,” Sam said.

“Then why do you shred all of the bills¬†with our names and account numbers?” I countered.

He was silent for a moment. “Well, I don’t want to make it easy for anyone to get, either.”

“Exactly. And I made it easy¬†as hell. Someone’s gonna find it, get lines of credit in our names, the kids’ names, then everyone’s credit will be ruined, they won’t be able to get student loans, get a house…someone could see the kids’ ages and come kidnap them and sell them, since they have all the proper ID,” I continued ranting.

Sam disappeared for a little while and called me into our bedroom, where he was typing up something on the computer. “Look, here’s a list of all the documents missing and how we need to go about getting them. Doesn’t that help?” he asked.

“No. I knew within five minutes what we’d have to do to get them all replaced. Why would that help?” (Yes, you’re probably right to think “Poor Sam.”)

He sighed. “Think about what’s likely to happen. It’s not likely that someone’s gonna find that envelope and steal our identities or come kidnap our kids.”

“I don’t care about likely. I care about what’s possible.”

Sam continued to try to calm me down. “Look, we’ll get these things replaced. I’ll get the kids added to our credit tracker online, that way if anyone tries to open accounts in their names we can stop it automatically. It’ll be okay. Try not to worry.”

After that, Sam talked me into going out by myself for a while to calm down. I went out to grab a bite of dinner and drove around for an hour or so. It helped. Later last night, Sam and I talked again after the kids went to bed.

“Thanks for being so nice about it,” I said.

“Why would you thank me for being nice? It was a mistake. Mistakes happen.”

I don’t make those kind of mistakes. And if it had been you, you know I’d still be pissed at you. I got pissed when you couldn’t find Little Man’s birth certificate for an hour.” To state the painfully obvious, he is by far the better half in our relationship.

“Yeah, well, we’re different people. It was a mistake and everything’s probably going to be okay. We’ll just keep an eye on things and if something happens, we’ll handle it,” Sam said.

I was hoping that those damn papers would turn up somewhere today, since sometimes it’s easy to overlook things when upset, but no such luck. I know that everyone is prone to screwing up–lord knows I have more than my fair share of fuck ups–but I’m baffled by this one.

My Husband The Cuddler

My husband and I are alike in a lot of ways. We generally like the same types of movies, laugh at the same weird things, share similar religious and political beliefs.

And then there are ways that we aren’t the same. For example, he’s a cuddler. I am not a cuddler. I am a “needs her own space, so back the fuck off” person. See my post Keep Your Distance to see just how much I don’t want people in my space. This doesn’t mean that I’m not affectionate with my husband–I hug him and other things–but I still want my space. Especially when I’m trying to sleep. I do not sleep with people touching me.

After I went to bed last night (a bit after my husband), he rolled over while mostly asleep to try to cuddle. As soon as I felt him roll over and sling that arm around me, my brain went:

giphy (6)

I could have woken him up all the way and told him to stop touching me get back on his 1/3 of the bed (he claims he only gets 1/10 thanks to my thrashing about all night, but that’s a total exaggeration), but I didn’t. I was nice. I decided to try to escape without waking him.

Do you know how hard it is to move a 200 hundred pound man? Especially one that is in a deep sleep?

It ain’t easy.

I attempted to roll him over, but barely budged him. I tried slinging his arm away, but he just slung it back. I tried moving towards the edge of the bed, but this just made him scoot even closer. I tried shoving my elbow into his chest–not hard enough to wake him, but hard enough to hurt a little to make him move.

After not having any luck, I thought, “Well, maybe I could sleep like this for one night.” My husband is always talking about how he wishes we could sleep with him holding me.

Thirty seconds later:


It wasn’t happening.

“Sam!” I hissed, trying not to startle him and wake him fully. “Move!”

Nothing. I tried again, in a louder voice, but still nothing. At this point I was half convinced he was screwing with me, since he usually hears Baby Girl before I do when she wakes up during the night.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I picked up the book from my nightstand and dropped it on the floor, resulting in a loud bang.

He woke up.

“Huh, what?” he said, half sitting up.



“You’re on my side,” I said in a voice not unlike the one Sheldon Cooper uses to tell others they’re in his spot. “Go to yours. Love you.”

He moved.


What does your spouse do to drive you crazy? It doesn’t have to be in the bed. ūüėȬ†

Fun Weekend Trip

Sam and I had a nice weekend trip to the mountains.

On the way to our hotel, we stopped off in Brevard (a town outside of Asheville) and walked around for a couple hours. After walking and doing a little shopping, Sam tried to deplete the local brewery of their resources and then we had a late lunch.

The whole time we were there, I kept thinking how we should sell our house and move there. It’s a cool little town, has a hippie feel, big on local music and art, etc. Plus, it’s still close enough for him to drive to Charlotte once per month.

Since he works from home and his company has corporate offices all over the US and even overseas (London and Hong Kong), I’ve been trying to convince him lately to sell our house and move somewhere for a year–it would be nice to get away and it would be a good experience for the kids, I think. He isn’t very big on that idea, but I thought maybe I could sell him on Brevard, since he loves the town as well. He was slightly more receptive to this idea, but that’s it.

After we had lunch, we drove through Mt. Pisgah National Forest, which is always fun. We stopped to see Looking Glass Falls, but skipped Sliding Rock this time since it would be way too cold.

Looking Glass Falls

Rainbow over the mountains around Maggie Valley.

Once we checked into the hotel, we relaxed for a bit and then went back out to drive to a few different areas and look around.

I¬†found some brochures for a couple of fun places to visit, but Sam shot them down.¬†As some of you¬†know, my husband goes by the name of “icouldbebatman” on WordPress. Yet he refused to go to the Linville Caverns because “oh my god, there could be bats?!” and wouldn’t go to the Mile High swinging bridge at Grandfather mountain because of the height. Naturally I had to tease him a little about going by Batman online. ūüėČ

On the way home yesterday, we rode the Blue Ridge Parkway for a while, which was quite scenic. It was rather nerve-wracking as we got higher up, but very beautiful.

With the exception of a Mother’s Day pregnancy scare (loooong story, but basically I massively screwed up my birth control) that ended in a negative pregnancy test, it was a fun trip.

Weekend Coffee Share: Lunch Date and Nerd Stuff

Screenshot 2015-04-19 at 5.24.12 PM

Since it’s rather late in the day for caffeine, have a nice cup of decaffeinated coffee or a caffeine-free¬†Coke.

If we were having our beverages, I’d tell you that I had a nice afternoon out with my husband. My mother-in-law called asking for the kids around 11:30, so after we took our showers and all that, we dropped them out and went out to lunch, did our grocery shopping, and then had a couple hours to ourselves.

I would also tell you that when you drop by next weekend, I may not have any Coke to offer you, since we’re back on our health kick (for the moment). We aren’t doing anything drastic this time, just counting calories, cutting out the sweet drinks, and adding in some light¬†exercise. That’s what worked a couple years ago (dropped 40 pounds then!), so hopefully we’ll stick with it and it will¬†work this time around as well.

Something else I would share with you is that Baby Girl finally slept in her crib, not once, but twice. Even though she’s close to 10 months old, she has been sleeping in a swaddler in her rock-n-play cradle. We got her a transitional swaddler a few weeks ago, which has been an adjustment, and then last night, Sam put her¬†in her crib (in a regular swaddler). She slept through the night (OMG) and took a nap in it this morning. So, one step backwards on the swaddler, but a big step forward by her using the crib. She’s a smaller baby (and her motor skills are a bit “behind” for her age), so we have more time for her to get there.

The last thing I would tell you over our beverages is that Sam dug some stuff out of storage and I was able to put some of my action figures up on the floating shelves he installed a couple days ago¬†(as well as some of his stuff). The good news is that they look great, the bad news is that the shelves don’t hold nearly as much as I thought they would. So we need a few more to get everything up.

Check it out:

¬†¬†Have a great week! ūüôā