Wife of the Year Award

Since I’m pretty sure that my post yesterday about laundry earned me wife of the year status, I’d like to share with you what I did today.

I mopped the floors! Yes, you read that right. And I not only mopped, I did it on my hands and knees with a bucket (or bowl, I couldn’t find a bucket that wasn’t more disgusting than my floors) and bleach and a sponge.

We haven’t had a proper mop since we moved into this house (2.5 years ago, I’m ashamed to admit this). I break mops, and I just feel like I am always moving filth around on the floor. No bueno if you ask me. I’ve always been ashamed of how dirty I thought that our floors are. And between the shedding that Stan, Molly and I do we had some nasty ass floors. The 5 second rule should never ever be applicable in this house. Until today!

I scrubbed, on my hands and knees - the whole kitchen and hallway. And damn it looks good. My hands are another story…I also didn’t have any gloves J

Normal Non-Wrinkly Hand

Bleach Ravaged Gross Hand

The wife of the week award officially goes to me – especially since I am making a homemade dinner consisting of pork chops, apples and probably potatoes (that’s what Dru wants).

How do you mop? Or how do you not mop? It’s cool, we are all friends – please tell me that I’m not the only one who pushed filth around for almost 3 years.

A Stinky Situation

We have a hate/hate relationship with laundry in this house. As in, we both HATE doing laundry. It has turned into a nasty stinky competition (literally) between Dru and I.

I start to get frustrated when his laundry is overflowing in the hamper in our bedroom, so he starts a load. Notice that I said “start”…Thing is, it sits in the washing machine until one of us decides that we need to do laundry again. Did you know that laundry that sits in the washer starts to stink up the machine as well as the clothes? Well come to my house and smell me, because Dru and I are teaching each other a lesson when it comes to laundry. We both wear stinky clothes now, because we don’t want to admit that we suck at laundry.

I even go as far as drying his clothes that sit in the washer for 2 days even though I know they stink and then tell him he has to wear them because it’s wasteful to rewash J Yes, I’m evil, but he does the same to me. I won’t let him dry my clothes, because I don’t dry all of them and there is nothing worse than clothes that are too tight after being washed.

Please tell me that other couples do this. It’s normal, right? Everyone wears stinky clothes because they are either a) too lazy to change the laundry b) full of pride and kind of an asshole c) both?

Did I mention that the laundry room is in the basement? The next house that we live in WILL have laundry on the same floor as our bedroom. 

Driving a Boat in Circles = Marital Stress

I’m still recovering from my Monday morning epic fail of locking myself out of the house, but the weather around here has definitely been helping. It’s been in the low 80’s the past 2 days, and it’s expected to be that nice again today. Did I mention that I live in Minnesota? And it’s October 5^th…

I Love, Love warm weather like this. No humidity, beautiful crisp fall colors and no bugs. What more could you ask for?

With the weather being so nice yesterday and Dru having the day off work we decided to take the boat out on the lake for some spousal bonding (fishing). I now know why men usually go fishing without women – they have a penis and can easily pee while boating, I don’t have a penis and have the bladder of a pregnant lady (no I’m not pregnant, see wine mention later).  

Sounds simple right – almost like I just solved world peace or something? But I swear that I pee at least every half hour, and we were out enjoying the beautiful day for over 2 hours. I DID have my bathing suit on, but that water isn’t exactly as warm as you would expect. In fact, I’m pretty sure that my bladder would have seized up if I got in and then I would have been wet and cold (and still would have had to pee).

Want to know what else I learned? That driving a boat with a motor on the back isn’t as intuitive as you would think (at least to me). Dru let me drive the boat yesterday and I think that we both feared for our lives the whole time. WTF I didn’t know that you have to drive with your left hand or that going in circles isn’t normal, or that sudden jerks can cause the boat to capsize (this didn’t happen, but was going to if I didn’t stop driving). A tip for the ladies, just don’t drive. It will cause less marital stress and then you can sit up front and drink wine with one hand while trying to support your boobs with the other. Yes, I did say support your boobs. I didn’t realize that it would be like the ocean out there and that I would need a sports bra for an evening ride across the lake.   

We didn’t catch any fish, but it was a nice night spent with the hubby. 

I'm surprised I haven't seen the police this am!

Monday’s have received a bad reputation – righteously so!

I was going to meet my gym partner at the gym at 6:30 am. No reason I shouldn’t have been able to make it on time. I went to bed at a decent hour and my bed partner had left so incredibly early (2am, he had to work early) that I had ample time to get back to sleep once disturbed from my slumber and to reopen the window (this will be key info later in the morning).

I awoke at 6:50 – first fail of the morning. Well I decided to still go to the gym. I got dressed and ready to leave until I realized that I had asked Dru ever so nicely to take my car to work because it needed gas. Gas at his work is about .20 cents cheaper than anywhere else, so it was a win-win. I found his truck keys and locked the door behind me – so any crazy stalkers couldn’t steel my kitties while I was gone for an hour. Second fail of the morning!

If you know Dru, you know that he is a freak about locking doors/windows and keeping our family and myself safe. It is sweet – but so incredibly annoying to me. I’m more of the mind set “if they want it, they can have it”. They being any home invasion specialists. I would rather they had an easy access to our stuff than breaking windows/doors to enter. My loving husband doesn’t appreciate my mindset. So we lock up around here at our Casa. Fine, whatever. I entertain his crazy habits and just go along with it as routine. Which bit me in the ass this am.

I had a great workout, and then decided to NEVER go to the gym at 7am again. It means that I leave for home at 8am. Do you know what 8am means? Kids go to school…I don’t have kids and I don’t realize things like this! My gym is a community center connected to the local middle school. It was drop off time and I was CRANKY because I hate to wait and I hate traffic. Small town mentality – but I shouldn’t have to wait in traffic if I live in a town with less than 10,000 people.

Anyways, I made it home. Parked in the back (that’s where the truck lives) and went to the front door with keys in hand. Remember how I was driving Dru’s truck? Well the idiot (said with love) didn’t have house keys on his key ring…WTF!!

I checked the door just to make sure that I did actually lock it, and it was locked. Our house was locked up like Fort Knox. What’s a girl to do? Go around to the front where our bedroom window is open and beg the kitties to let me in? Yes that was the first step. Didn’t work! Stan and Molly are smart, but not THAT smart. So I did what any other sane human being would do.

Cursed my husband and thanked god that I like to sleep with a window open. Pried the screen off, checked the street and wiggled my butt in the window. Fell headfirst, ripped my workout pants and bruised my neither regions…

Monday Morning Fail!!! 

Mis-Communication

My dad is an exceptionally smart man – if I had his math skills I’d be the “perfect” woman. Okay, that’s probably a stretch, but he is smart and I’m pretty close to perfect (many skills obtained from you too mom).

Anyways, not the point. Yesterday was my parents 32 wedding anniversary, I had called and talked to my mom in the am (I talk to her often but usually just little chats here and there), but I hadn’t talked to my dad. He was busy working and he doesn’t have fb so I couldn’t send him a quick note, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t text.

My dad is a man of few words. Super smart, intelligent and loveable but he doesn’t say a lot (not like the rest of the jabbermouths in the family). So when I saw that he was calling me yesterday afternoon on my cell phone I was excited/nervous (I was hoping that nothing bad had happened)…

I answered the phone with a cherry “Hello” and was returned with an “ERIN”…I told the stupid thing to call “Erik”…

Turns out my Dad is trying his luck in technology and not exactly winning. Next thing I know he will have a facebook and twitter account. Ahh how they grow up so quickly!

Well hello to you as well dad :-) That’s what you get for not being creative when naming your children – and it’s probably the only time that I have been thankful for one letter separating my name from my big brother’s (who lives by my parents and gets to see them every day). 

Rainbows, Butterflies and Real Housewives Lips

I’ve been in a funk for the past two weeks and it is driving me insane. While I haven’t completely shared what is happening in our lives on this blog I think that now is the time, because dammit I need to vent.

I’m taking clomid! There I said it. I shouldn’t be ashamed to admit this, but it makes me feel really exposed to be talking about this on the internet. Yes, I’m a “blogger” and usually bloggers don’t have problems sharing. Some would even go to the extreme of over-sharing and committing TMI faux pas on a daily basis. I’m going to try to keep a happy medium when it comes to sharing what is happening without over-sharing.

That brings me back to the funk that I am in. I’ve been an emotional mess for the past 2 weeks. I feel like crap, have zero energy and did I mention that my lips look like Taylor from “Real Housewives”. A side effect that they don’t tell you about is extremely dry chapped lips, or maybe it is just my own personal side effect from hell? I don’t know, but I am going crazy.

So now that you have the digested the fact that I just admitted to taking fertility meds and that we are actively trying to have kids please don’t feel as if I am asking for advice. Because quite frankly your “if you just relax it will happen”, or “everything will work out” or even “God chooses when it is right for you to start a family” will make me want to physically hurt you. While I know that it is all well wishes and happy thoughts and crap, it doesn’t make the situation any better. I have a disease that is making having kids difficult. I didn’t choose to have endometriosis, and I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. What is a fact is that it (endo) makes having kids harder; therefore we have resorted to fertility meds that make me feel all stabby and bitchy.

Aren’t you happy I decided to share ;-)