Archive | March, 2010

I’m pretty sure my husband is gay and may be breaking up with me.

17 Mar

It’s true. I’ve always wondered. He seems to attract gay men and even straight men. It’s weird really. I always just brushed it off since he is quite attractive. That was, however, until the last few days. He’s been going on and on about the Michael Buble song, “Haven’t Met You Yet.” Yeah, it’s a good song, catchy. But when we got in to his truck to go to lunch, his radio was blaring. “Um, nope, I wasn’t jamming on my way to work this morning. I can’t help it. That Michael bubble song is just so good.” To his surprise, the song started and up the radio went again. He was singing along like my sister and I used to when we were in high school cruising the streets on a warm spring day. It was pretty funny and pitiful all at the same time. “You think I’m gay, huh?” Well, kind of. How could I not? Run to the nearest straight man you know and ask him to sing a few bars of ANY Michael Buble song. They looked at you like you were asking them if they knew when you last ovulated, right?
To make matters worse, have you heard the lyrics? Is my husband trying to break up with me? I mean, he just hasn’t met who yet? And it’s not like he doesn’t have a history with break ups using song. When he was with the teenage love of his life (please don’t get me started on that. She was 16 and he was [b]12[/b]! WTF, right?) she broke his heart using a song. She wrote out a letter filled with the lyrics to Ace of Bass’s “I Saw The Sign.” No really, stop laughing. I’m serious. Serious! I couldn’t keep myself from crying (from hysteria) when he first told me this. That’s just fucking CLASSIC! Think about how smooth and intelligent she thought she was. I wonder what sparks in her memory. Is it the killer beat? The uplifting message? Or is it how she probably drove around for weeks after with the windows rolled down, wind blowing through her hair as she screeched along with the song blaring on the radio thinking of how great her life was now that she was free of that 12/13 year old?
Back to the topic at hand. Before we made it in to town, I had to ask Britt if he was trying to tell me something with his love for this song. “What? No, of course not? It’s, um, just a good song, that’s all.”
Sure. I’m on to you. Keep DVRing Maury Povich people. I feel a lie detector test coming up.

A great weekend.

15 Mar

That’s all you need to lift your spirits. Emberly was full of smiles, laughing, talking and dancing to any form of music that was within earshot of her. Just watching her move to the music can brighten anyone’s soul.
Let’s hope the time change and more sunlight lift everyone’s moods. I, for one, can.not.WAIT to go on more walks with Embers. Come on glorious spring!

Birthdays: The Destroyer of Mental Health

1 Mar

When you’re younger, there is no greater day than your birthday. No, not even Christmas. On your birthday, it’s all about you. Your parents [s]and siblings[/s] fawn over you. You get presents, a cake just for you, the special dinner menu you requested. All of it is so exciting. If you’re lucky to be born during the school months, you get praised with birthday comments from everyone in school and maybe a birthday arrangement that requires your name to be called over the loud speaker. You can’t help but glow on your birthday.

Fast forward past the milestones of driving and drinking (NOT together please. We’re just talking about turning 16 and 21.) What’s left? Nothing. For the first few years after turning 21, you still get excited. There’s partying to be done, celebrating for at least a week with your friends. Once you settle down and perhaps get married and/or start a family, it all changes. Birthdays are really no longer about you. Sure those near you share their obligatory congratulations for surviving another day. But honestly, do you ever feel just as special as you did growing up?

I’ve learned to no longer get excited with the anticipation that my birthday is going to be amazing. There will be no surprises or gifts. There will be no butterflies in my stomach wondering what magic the day holds. I’ve spent the last few years imagining what my family and friends will do to honor me, realizing that no one can live up to my expectations. Sure there have been a few “surprise” dinners with my family. But only the first five minutes of saying “surprise!” and thanking everyone for coming mark that they are here for me. And in reality, they’re mostly there because they didn’t feel like cooking dinner that night. I have finally gotten tired of dreaming that my husband would be as considerate as I am for his birthday. There will be no surprise trips, specials cakes, breakfast in bed or gifts from my daughter picked out by her daddy. No, my birthdays have become another day where I feel guilty that others have to acknowledge my existence. The plans to get away for this weekend, while thought of by my husband, are to be set up by me. It now feels so selfish to have people think of just me for a fleeting moment. Oh what joy, I was pulled from my mother’s uterus a mere 29 years ago.
I try hard now to do my best to make those dear to me aware of how amazing they are and how truly happy I am that it is their birthday. But, much like my love for Thursdays, I know that no matter how excited I am for my day, it won’t be as great as I’m anticipating. It really starts to drain on you, the bitterness. The knowing that it won’t be as magical as you dream. People won’t spend their entire day thinking of you and ways to make it special for you. No, birthdays are now just another day, but one in which you actually get to feel a little more blue wishing people were thinking of you.  A day in which you can feel greedy and needy, but no one tries their best to make it better. Oh to live at home again when your birthday meant your parents dotted over you.

There was a moment when I was cleaning up from Emberly’s birthday party that I thought to myself, “Holy shit! I’m a MOM! I am now in charge of remembering where the birthday supplies are stored. It is up to me to make sure that this precious child is loved and spoiled on her birthday. It is now my mission to make sure that she never forgets that and that each year is more special than the last, that she feels that magic tenfold on her day. My birthdays are still going to be the death of my sanity, but now I have something just before that day that lets me dot and love on the most amazing person I know, my Emberly.

Blessed readers, please note that my birthday is tomorrow, March 2. The same day as Dr. Seuss’. No pressure, just make it a good one 😉 No pressure, you have nothing to live up Ignore the writing above. I have no desires for making my day special.