Hello bloggers! Long time no see. I 've been a busy bee of sorts, so I will intend to update you.
The DIVA and her little bro are home. Back from their long extended stay up in New York. They really enjoyed themselves and couldn't wait to go out and visit with their friends instead of update their momma on what they did in the 'Big Apple'.
I started classes again this summer on July 6. (gulp) I am taking a Political Science class (the teacher already hates me), and a beginner Spanish class (the teacher is lovely). It is going on week 3 and I already have one quiz due this week for my Political Science class.
The political arena is touchy. I am not a very political person, but I am strong in my convictions and my principles, and do not waver from my views unless human life is at stake. That's when I shut my mouth, and let the big dogs scrap it out!
Antyways
The hubby and I are on a little break from the therapy sessions, and will resume by the end of the month. (snort) Who ever said married life was easy should be strapped to a hard back chair in a room alone, and made to listen to Vanilla Ice with the volume at full blast.
The other children on the BIBI home front are doing okay. Some can't wait until school starts, others want to bum around all day in front of the stupid box and burn their brain cells with as much useless info that they can fill their brain cavity up with.
I on the other hand watch the most educational things that we mommy's find so amusing.
Monday thru Friday 10 AM - Live with Regis and Kelly. My grandmother calls them the Gracie and George of our time. Except they are not married. I just watch to see if they will ever get my email and call me to talk live, on the phone with them so that I can win a prize. Shameless right?
Monday thru Friday 11 AM - The View. Barbara Walters and her posse always make me laugh. I hope Elizabeth drops that bundle soon so that we can see the little bundle of joy!
Tuesday and Wednesday 9 PM - America's Got Talent.Who does not watch that show for all the bad auditions?!? Tuesday 10 PM - Tori and Dean. Love Tori. Love Dean. Ahhh... What the rich do when they have time on their hands.
Thursday 9 PM - She's Got The Look. Women over 35 looking sexy and doing their thing. There is hope for me yet!
Friday, Saturday, and Sunday - If I am not carpooling to a friends house, sewing, doing homework, studying, cooking, washing clothes, or fixing a crumpled kids spirit 'cause they did not get what they wanted that week, then I tune to TCM for some old b&w movies.
I went to therapy and let the hubby drive again, against my better judgment. Against ALL better judgment.
The morning started out like any other morning. I packed lunch, hugged the kids, ate breakfast, showered, and dressed for our 10:30 AM appointment.
Needless to say, I wanted to leave at 8:30 but we left at 9:03.
Hubby started the truck up while I added the finishing touches to my face. You know, a chewed up black eyeliner pencil, baby lotion, and Vaseline for lip-gloss. A momma can never find what she is looking for when the kiddies ransack her bathroom and leave her the bare necessities.
I finally got in the truck, and we took off. The fact that we took off at a pace of a NASCAR driver should have hinted me on to what was to lie ahead, but I was concentrating on keeping the hubby awake whilst he drove.
15 minutes into the drive, I blinked all of my eyeliner off, my face felt like I rubbed sandpaper on it, and I licked all of the Vaseline off trying to keep my tongue in my mouth as the hubby swerved around cars to try to make up for lost time.
I felt like I was on a bad rollercoaster ride. I tried to make it more interesting so that the hubby wouldn’t begin to nod off.
Me: “Why are you swerving? I’m getting nauseous just trying to keep in time to the swaying.”
Hubby: “I’m trying to make up for lost time.”
Me: “No duh. But you can drive at a reasonable speed limit and let some of the cars past you. This is not a race.”
Hubby immediately slows down to 55 MPH. The speed limit is 65.
***driving, driving, driving***
Me: looking at my watch as the time rolls by and we haven’t reached the next county yet “You know the speed limit IS 65 MPH.”
Hubby immediately speeds up. He then fiddles with the radio and turns to ‘The Steve Harvey Show’.
We listen contently as a girl named Mikka is interviewing bachelors for a date in Chicago, fully paid for by Steve Harvey.
***driving, driving, driving***
Me: “Whoa! Slow down and let Shamu of the highway get past you. Damn trucks always hogging the road.”
Hubby: “What did you call that truck?”
Me: “Shamu. You know like the whale at sea world somewhere. I don’t know. He’s big and annoying and he practically ran us over trying to get to that next stop sign.”
Hubby: Chuckling “Your silly.”
Me: sourly “I’m glad to be of some amusement to you.”
***driving, driving, driving***
Me: “Pew whee, do you smell that?”
Hubby: “Yeah. The farmers must be out early fertilizing their land.”
Me: voice muffled as I try to talk with both of my hands covering my nose and mouth “You would think that they would have found a better use for cow poo poo than the fields near the highway. Don’t they realize that people actually drive past here and don't want their nostrils insulted?”
Hubby: “That’s not cow manure, it’s human sludge.”
Me: voice muffled as I am still covering my nose and mouth “Na-uh. Stop joking around. They wouldn’t use human waste for farmland.”
Hubby: looking at me as if I just came from the planet bobble head “Hon, this is AmeliaCounty. Welcome to human sludge wastelands U.S.A.”
Me: “Oh my God!” Momentarily forgetting to cover my mouth and nose, and quickly covering them back up again.
Hubby: “You know I heard that it is a good fertilizer for your hair as well. Want to stop and get some?”
Me: I am now using the bottom half of my upturned sweater and both of my hands to cover my nose and mouth as the smell now permeates through the vents in the truck. “Ha. Ha. And ha! I’m so glad that you find yourself sooo amusing.”
Hubby: pouting “Well I’m just saying…”
Me: “Why? I don’t think that joking about.. WHOA! Slow down! You almost hit that car!”
Hubby: “Too late. I’m way ahead of you.”
Me: “But you did almost hit them.”
Hubby: “Well, then he should watch where he puts his car in front of someone then.”
Me: “Why can’t you admit that you almost hit that car?”
Hubby: Turning to me as if his neck is possessed by the devil with a frown on his forehead to match “Please let me drive!”
I back off, because he IS driving. Plus I want to get there in one piece.
***driving, driving, driving, driving***
Hubby is beginning to nod off.
Me: “Dude, watch the road.”
Hubby: “I’m alright, I’m alright.”
Me: grumbling under my breath “You NEED to watch the road.”
Hubby: “Wanna drive?”
Me: “You betcha damn skippy.”
Hubby: sighs as he shakes his head awake and shifts in his seat “You know I can drive.”
Me: “No argument here.”
Hubby: yawning. Hard. With his mouth open.
Me: “Pew whee!! Did you eat cheese this morning?”
Hubby: “Yup!”
Me: mumbling under my breath as I roll down the window “Good God have mercy.”
***driving, driving, driving***
We finally reach our destination, and I announce that I would drive home. The hubby shrugged me off. I took it as a yes.
*** ONE HOUR LATER***
I race to the truck and get in the drivers seat. The hubster didn’t have a chance.
I adjusted the seat, fixed my mirrors, popped in my Whitney Houston Greatest hits CD.
Hubby sat in the passenger seat, leaned back and folded his arms across his stomach.
I drove out of the parking at a respectable speed and made it to the highway without a sound from him. The only sound between the two of us was the sound of Whitney singing.
***driving, driving, and more driving ***
I am now singing along with Ms. Houston, and trying to match her high notes. I am content that I don’t sound so screechy. I am in my own little world and the hubby is silent so I assume that he is sleeping. I look over at him.
Nope. No luck. He is still awake, gripping his knees and frowning.
***driving, driving, driving ***
20 minutes from home and the hubby is still silent. I am still singing along to Ms. Houston and making good time on the highway.
I then look over at the hubs and notice that he is sitting up in his seat gripping his knees and frowning into the windshield.
Me: “What’s wrong?”
Hubby: “I was trying to sleep but I can’t.”
Me: “Why can’t you?”
Hubby: “I liked your nagging this morning better than this singing of yours.”
I always admonish my children for not sharing with each other. I am always reminded of the word ‘sharing’ as one of the first big words that I learned while watching Sesame Street on PBS as a child.
Yet sharing is the word today that eludes me as I sit here trying to write this post to you all.
I think I share a great deal of what goes on in the BIBI household. There is literally never a dull moment, which I am about to prove to you all right now.
About two weeks ago my daughter Tisha, had a seizure. I panicked and took her to the hospital the next day. It was a small seizure mind you, but it was a seizure nonetheless. Three days later I took her to St. Mary’s hospital for an EEG. The results were negative, and I was told to just watch her for the next couple of weeks.
Well, I am still watching out for any signs of a seizure, but none have manifest. While I am doing this I also had a little exchange of words with my SIL. She is not the brightest bulb in the pack, as her manner speaks for itself, but when she approached me about the children (my son and her two sons) fighting, I had to let her know in no kind terms to leave me the f*$# alone with such nonsense.
And the children weren’t fighting with fists or sticks, but just fooling around and pushing each other around and exchanging heated words. As much as an eight, six, and three year old could muster up from their imagination. Have any of you ever called another kid ‘Butt-naked’ and thought it was a bad word? That’s as far as their extensive vocabulary would let them be imaginative. *SIGH* to be a kid again.
Next, the daring rides that I bi-weekly undertake to Richmond with the hubby when he is sleepy and insists on driving. Yes, we are still going to counseling, but our therapist said that we are making good progress and she now just needs to see us every other week, instead of every week as like in the beginning. I tend to disagree, but it’s her call. I hope she realizes the sacrifice that I make just to come see her.
Let me tell you, that one hour and thirty minute ride is not for the weak stomached. He literally nods off behind the wheel and says that he is okay. I won’t dare ask him to let me drive, I’m too busy crumbled up into a ball in my seat so as not to watch the beautiful world pass me by before my premature and imminent death, praying to God which whom I haven’t had a conversation with all week.
All of this on top of having a snow storm that knocked out our power for a full 24 hours, leaving us cold, hungry and without telephone service. The only comfort was that I could call my friend on my cell phone in Florida and ask her “how is the weather down there?!”
My children were out of school for the whole week while my poor little town shut down for the eight inches of snow that we received, only to go back to school on Friday. The school board has now decided to extend the school year until May 22nd. That is something to look forward to. Another whole week of silence so that I can relax with a good book and do more laundry.
But despite all of the exciting things that have happened in the last three weeks I did get a new stove and decided to redecorate the kitchen. The local diner at the truck stop is going to love seeing us all come into their joint everyday for dinner for the next three to four days. All eight of us, who have only managed to get a bowl of cereal and one of those microwaves snacks until dinnertime. Now I know how those people feel on ‘Spice Up My Kitchen’ on HGTV.
Well, now that I am done sharing my exciting past weeks, I’ve got to finish my assignments for school and prepare for finals coming up in the weeks ahead. I think I’ve done my fair share of sharing. No pun intended.
Scenario:It is 4:34 PM in the afternoon and 75 degrees in the middle of February. A husband and wife are enjoying the balmy weather and the fact that the children are outside. Hubby is reading the Richmond Times Dispatch and the wife is reading the latest gossip magazine grabbed off of the shelf in the local super center. The children are enjoying the weather, screaming, laughing, and playing; unaware that there is a tornado watch warning in effect and that their parents are trying to tune them out.
Wife: “You know that octuplet mom does look like Angelina Jolie.”
Hubby: “You don’t say.”
Wife: “Michele Obama is one classy lady. I hope to one day inherit her sense of style.”
Hubby: “Nice, very nice.”
Wifeputting down magazine and looking out of the window: “Why is Tamara screaming like that? Gosh she can be so melodramatic!”
Hubby: “Hmmm…”
Wifeturning to hubby: “What would you do if I pierced my tongue?”
Hubby: “Nothin’. “
Wife: “How about my nipple?”
Hubby: “Don’t care.”
Wife: “Want to adopt a baby?”
Hubby: “Something to consider.”
Wife: “Are you listening to me?”
Hubby looking up finally from newspaper: “Yeah, yeah, I heard you.” Turns back to newspaper.
Wife: “The therapist said today that we should be more open to talk more with each other. Come on answer me, talk to me, look at me!”
Hubbysighing and putting down darn newspaper: “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”
Wife: SILENCE
Hubby: SILENCE
*One full minute later*
Wife: SILENCE
Hubby: SILENCE
Wife picking up magazine and grumbling to self: “You never listen to me.”
Hubby: SILENCE
This ladies and gentlemen is what marriage counseling does to a couple after only three sessions. We’re still a work in progress.
I consider myself a very headstrong person, who will try her utmost best to get what she wants. I just never thought that my marriage would be on such shaky ground with my new quest to be thinner and healthier.
I doubt that the hubby is aware of how serious I am about losing weight. We've both tried losing weight together a year ago and the momentum fizzled after about two months.
We just got our taxes back and bought a new treadmill. We started out slow like 15 minutes a day then gradually increased everyday until we were on the treadmill for 45 minutes everyday.
Hubby then graduated to burning 700 calories a day at 7 MPH, while I began decreasing to walking for only 30 minutes at 3.5 MPH. I never really considered that I could burn more if I increased my speed, but I was new and wasn't trying to be on America's Funniest Home Videos with the fat momma being thrown off of the treadmill. Hubby loves the video camera, by the way.
So, after two weeks of trying to win smoother abs, tight ass, and muscular biceps we were sorely disappointed that our physique didn't match with the models in our Fitness magazines that came faithfully every month. Disillusioned? YES, ready to admit it? NO!
Now that I am back on the fitness kick, I've picked up some habits that the hubby is not too crazy about.
SCENARIO: Saturday night and the hubby is off. Goes to the store and brings home vanilla-filled cookies, cream cheese and ice cream.
"Look what I got. Want some?" He proceeded to place them all on the kitchen table that I am sitting comfortably at cutting coupons.
Looking at him as if he grown another head; "No, I'm on a diet remember?"
"Oh yeah, forgot. Sorry."
Continues to open the packages and throw together in a bowl the cookies, smear cream cheese on them, and slap some vanilla ice-cream on top.
Saliva pools at the corner of my mouth as I watch him chop down on one of our favorite pastimes on our quest to appease our cravings for junk food.
"You're not going to seriously sit there and eat that all in front of me, are you?"
"Yomhu domhn wanamh nonmhn, sohn behnm itmn."
"Your not serious are you? I mean, you know I am struggling with this whole dieting thing. I have to face my demons and not be tempted by such lack of pure unadulterated control over junk food, yet here you come in here with this crap. And I'm supposed to just accept that?"
Hubby looks at me now as if I grew a new head. I could have got up very graciously and just went into my room and closed the door, but I didn't.
Instead I decided to fight fire with fire. I went to the refrigerator, and pulled out my lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, two boiled eggs, mushrooms, red onions, and my French honey salad dressing. Preparing a big bowl of delicious salad would be my way of showing him that he will not sabotage my progress so far and I will win this battle of the bulge.
Instead of fixing the salad, I busted into tears. It was then I realized how much trouble the hubby and I really are in.
This was the defining moment when I realized that we needed help and that our problems were bigger than we can handle. It has to be done.
Marriage counseling is a big thing for me to handle, but the hubby and I got through our first two sessions together. I believe that we are on the right road to recovery now. And I don't need ice cream to celebrate the moment.
Cloris Leachman is gone! Too bad, she was fun while she lasted. Hopefully, Lance will keep up his winning streak against Brooke. But Brooke is good, just not up to her game this week since her injury.
Anyway on the home front, my hubby and I have made up, but it is still a work in progress. Marriage counseling would not be a bad idea at this point right now, but you guys know how stubborn men are to the idea of being exposed to total strangers who poke and prod their inner being only to uncover what he didn't want to acknowledge in the first place. Why do you think they never ask for directions? But seriously, hubs is a good guy, I just can't beat myself up about his outlook on life. His mom did the best that she could with what she had. And she raised a good son.
I tried talking to him and this is as far as the conversation got:
Hubby: Why do you want to see a counselor? what if she finds something wrong? Me: That is the whole point. A marriage counselor will point where we are going wrong and point us in the right direction. (shrug) Maybe you'll take his/hers viewpoint into consideration for once. Hubby:Mumbles something incoherently. Me: (I heard "tell me what to do"), but turn innocently to him and ask 'what'?!? Hubby: I said 'She doesn't need to tell me what to do, I know what to do'. I'm not dumb ya know. Me: (sweetly) Hon, how are you so sure that the marriage counselor will be a female? Hubby: Well..., all the docs you see on T.V. are female...(voice trails off as he realizes what he has just said). Me:(chuckling lightly as if amused, but really annoyed). You worry too much. There is not always going to be a female around to boss you around. ( This being said to a man who was raised by a single mom, lived with his big sis when he turned eighteen, his supervisor is a female. He also has two little girls who have him wrapped around their finger.) Your son can pick up after you when you retire and get old and decrepit and tell you what to do from the moment you turn a senior. Hubby: (Shrugging) That's not funny. (He smiles regardless and heads to the living room for damage control with the two girls shrieking at each other and calling his name at the same time). Me: (shouting out after him)Welcome to adulthood!
I now realize what a female dominated world my husband lives in, no wonder he gives me a hard time! Poor man, but I still insist that we go to a marriage counselor, a female marriage counselor of course. : )
Unrehearsed, no scripts, real life as I know it. This 30-something mom/wife/college student/sister/daughter makes no apologies for talking about her children (love all 7 of them), the hubby (currently my favorite subject), and the not so peaceful world around me (laughter is the best medicine). So take a look, read and comment. I so enjoy the company!
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