A New Year’s Wager

You know how you have serious talks with your spouse or partner at times and talk about goals and shit? Sam and I had one of those last night. We were talking about a certain goal for 2016 and how to achieve it.

“This year has gone by fast,” Sam said to me tonight after we watched an episode of Parks and Rec on Netflix.

“Not really. It’s been a hell of a year,” I responded.

“Oh. Well, what do you want to do for our New Year’s resolutions?” he asked.

“Lose weight, I guess.”

I don’t really care for doing resolutions, but if I’m going to do one, that’s gonna be it. It happened some in 2013. In 2014 I was pregnant much of the year and only had to maintain, then I got a pass for just having a baby on the rest of the year. 2015 was a bust and I can no longer blame just having a baby, I fear.

Sam patted his belly. “Yeah, it’s time.”

“Why don’t we make it into a competition?” I suggested. “The first to lose 30 pounds wins…something.” Since that is my number for the physical, this is sorta to my advantage, which Sam doesn’t know.

Sam agreed. “What will the winner get?”

“Hmm. Well, I know what motivates me: leather jewelry, a vacation, video games, tattoos…I don’t know about you.”

“Making you happy is my motivator.”


“Be for real. What do you want to do?”

“I am for real. But how about if I lose, then I finally get a tattoo?” Sam suggested.

Ooh, nice. I’ve been after him to get one for a while. Every time we visit the tattoo shop for me, he gets all amped up about getting one, but a week later he backs out and talks about the pain.

“Okay. If you lose, then I get to pick out a tattoo for you.” Before he could change his mind, I added, “It will be the size of a half dollar and will not be anything crude or embarrassing.”

He agreed. “And if I win, then you can’t play Hanson in the car or around me for a week.”

Da fuck is this shit?

“You like Hanson,” I stated.

“But not all the time!” he exclaimed. “Okay? If I lose, you get to pick a tattoo. And if you lose, no Hanson for a week.”

We shook hands to seal the deal.

And that, my friends, is how setting goals with your partner is done. I advise you to pick a band to play nonstop to annoy your person so that it can be used whenever any negotiating comes up or wagers are made.


A Relationship Snag

I’m pretty sure this blog and I have hit a relationship snag.

In the beginning, things were new and exciting. I had an idea in mind of the type of blog I wanted and went with it. I was a little unsure, since I didn’t have a lot of experience with blogging, but I was excited to test the waters. We did the whole get to know each other deal where I shared lots of things, like some of my funny stories and my personal stuff.

And then came the commitment. Despite being a habitual quitter of all things, I realized that this blog and I were going places, dammit. Well, maybe we weren’t going places so much as chilling out on the couch with me giving it some attention between episodes of whatever I was Netflix binging on, but still–it was obvious that this wasn’t gonna be a one-night stand.


We went strong for about a year. In that time, I wrote, wrote, wrote (and deleted, deleted, deleted) and even tried some things I previously thought were off limits for this relationship.

And then one day there was nothing. I had told all the funny or otherwise interesting stories I could remember, shared all my nuggets of wisdom (of which there were few). I looked for help on making the relationship hot again, but that didn’t help as much as I’d hoped.

So here we are.

I know some of y’all have been struggling with blog post ideas like I have. I’m sure that as we get into the holidays and are exposed to crazy relatives, go to parties, etc. that those ideas will be flowing again.

Until then, I’m going to ask for three things you’d like to see me blog about.

Wait, I’m being too greedy? Especially when you’re struggling to come up with one idea for yourself? Fine, then comment with the one thing you’d like to see me blog about. And if I get enough tips, maybe I’ll write my own post called “101 9 Post Ideas To Make Your Blog FLAMING Hot, Bitches!”

*FYI: If you don’t give me a legit suggestion, I just might host a roast in your honor. See how you like that.

**This post is meant in fun.

***I could have made a lot of sexual euphemisms in this post, but chose not to. I like to class things up once in a while.

Whew, another post down, even if this is sorta cheating again.

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. 😉 

Lists, Lists, Lists

I complained to my husband a couple nights ago about the lack of anything sweet in the house. Yes, I know, the horrors, especially when you’re supposed to be trying to lose weight!

“That’s because I did the grocery shopping this week, and I always stick to the list. You never do,” Sam told me.

This is true.

Because I don’t usually make a list.

“I only spent $65 on groceries yesterday,” Sam continued. “You spent $110 last week! And you only bought enough stuff to make supper three nights! This is why a list is important.”


Sam sure doesn’t love lists whenever it’s full of chores for him to do.

I used to be crazy organized when I was younger, especially in high school. High school me with her endless lists, color-coded calendar, post-its, excessive label maker use (okay, that one still happens) would be appalled at present me for the overall lack of organization these days.

When I was the coupon queen, which I was until a year ago, I had lists. I had a game plan. I knew where everything was and how much to get and knew to exactly what my pre-coupon price and my total out of pocket should be. Of course, these lists and organization only applied to couponing and not the regular shopping, which I would do separately to track my savings.

But now that I’ve stepped away from that, I don’t bother with a list at all. I walk around the aisles and decide what our menu for the week will be based on what I see…even if I do get a little sidetracked and don’t get enough for meals every night. And, sure, Transformers and Oreo cookies and a new outfit for Baby Girl fall into the cart occasionally.

“Sometimes you forget things on your list,” I told Sam. “Like toilet paper. And we needed that. But if you walked the aisles like I do, you probably would have went down that aisle, saw and remembered the toilet paper, and picked some up.”

So there are some benefit in flexibility, although there probably should be some middle ground when you’re spending $40 more on groceries and not getting enough groceries. And, I guess this is like anything in life–you need an overall game plan, but wearing blinders will sure as hell make you miss out on a lot. Like toilet paper, ‘cuz that’s important.

Time to start making more use of this app on my phone, I suppose:

Are you a list person? Maybe sometimes? Or do you mostly fly by the seat of your pants?

O is for the One Ring

I mentioned before that the Lord of the Rings was a pretty big thing with my husband and me. Read our dating story for more on that.


At some point during our dating period, we bought each other cheap One Rings off eBay that supposedly said:

One ring to rule them all

One ring to bind them

One ring to bring them together

And their hearts, entwine them.

It probably didn’t say that, but at the time I couldn’t read a lick of Tengwar and didn’t know any better. They were also supposed to be silver, but turned a color that wasn’t close to silver within months. I still have mine, but don’t know what happened with Sam’s.

Anyway, fast forward about 9 years later (which is Christmas 2013). At this point we’ve been married for just over 7 years and both of us have lost our wedding bands.

I lost mine first. Actually, I lost my beautiful expensive engagement ring five or six times, and then I finally lost my wedding band (I have a terrible fidgeting habit and if I’m wearing rings, I’ll take them off and mindlessly play with them). A few months after losing my wedding band, Sam lost his, which he felt really bad about. Obviously, I was in no place to guilt him, so I didn’t…much.

Did we take both of us losing our wedding bands as a sign that we weren’t meant to be? Hell no. I was a good three months pregnant with Tax Break #2. What we did take that as was the opportunity to buy the rings we wanted all along, but didn’t because we cared a bit about getting strange looks back when we got married.

This is what I ordered for us off Amazon–stepping it up almost a decade later!:


His knuckles are the hairier ones. I swear.


That’s right. Our wedding bands are now the One Ring. As Little Man would say, booya!

FYI: these rings are tungsten carbide. In other words, they are cheap (but they also don’t scratch easily)! So if we lose these, no problemo, back to Amazon I’ll go.