BS (beloved spouse) – Page 17

Category: BS (beloved spouse)

my hero

Posted on November 24, 2006 by wrekehavoc

perhaps it is a sign of the apocolypse.

today, i spent the better part of my life cleaning out BC’s room and washing the wood floor in her future room (AKA our former office, which is currently residing in my living room.) it is, hands down, the dustiest place on planet earth. BC will probably require claritin, administered by IV, once i’m through with the place. she has apparently inherited the worst of both my packrat and BS’s packrat tendencies. i mean, the girl has a bottle cap collection. i ask you.

anyway, when hellboy took a nap, BS settled down for a nap, too. i mostly kept on going, though (i finally stopped for a bit toward the end. my lungs can hardly stand it, y’know.) so first, when everyone awoke around 3, BS took both kids outside to play with these obnoxious balloons that make a loud siren sound as they land on your neighbor’s tree or your own roof (both true, apparently). the kids loved it. then, when BC’s pal lia called for a play date at 4, he said he would not only take her there, but he would take hellboy with him to the barber for a haircut. hellboy may end up with no hair after this barber visit and may curse me for years to come, but i am getting a break. a b r e a k, i tell you.

so i’m thinking the world is probably going to end sometime soon, as this sort of thing seldom happens. in the meantime, though, BS is my hero.

give him his props, as those hep cats would say.

struggling

Posted on November 20, 2006 by wrekehavoc

the day started out ok. jools had blood in his ear, so we dropped BC off at school, then he and i went to safeway to shop until it was time to go to the doctor’s. we lovelovelove our pediatrician, so much so that BC was jealous because she wanted to see dr. j. anyway, dr. j didn’t see any infection in his ear and figured that perhaps jools had somehow scratched it up inside. so off we went, stickers in hand, ready to go to the big thanksgiving shindig at jools’ school.

at lunch, my face swelled up again. BS, in a moment of sheer kindness, left work and came to jools’ school to take my place with jools at his feast while i went home to put my head on the heating pad. when i returned to pick everyone up, jools had once again pooped in his pants and was in a different pair of pants. he always tells me he is too busy to go to the potty. at home, he pooped in his pants again. later, he peed. he asked to wear a pullup. reluctantly, i agreed.

i finally told him that he is acting like a baby, and babies don’t eat candy (which he asks for constantly since halloween happened), so until he keeps his pants dry and clean every day, he can’t have candy. something in my gut tells me this is really a bad idea, but i don’t know what else to do. he *knows* that he’s doing this; he’s been able to do this before. i told him that we can’t go fun places either, like the zoo, until he keeps his pants dry. but i don’t think he cares. and everyone else in the family ends up being penalized because of this. BS is about to go spare. BC is pissed off, too. and we can’t plan any vacation if he’s going to be pooping all over.

i’m really struggling with this.

good things come in threes. so do bad things.

Posted on November 17, 2006 by wrekehavoc

so yesterday, when we last left our hero (me), i was covered in beer. it stood to reason that i would spend the rest of the week wondering when i (or things that required cleaning) would be covered in other substances.

wonder no more.

today, i have indulged in a happy cake-baking marathon. a very special little friend of ours is turning 4; another special little one is turning one; and BS is turning, well, older than 4 + 1 combined, for sure. the parents of the first two parties are having one giant party tomorrow and have asked me to bake. i am honored. of course, the cakes may not end up looking like a professional made them (especially since there are little folks here who are d y i n g to help decorate, so please forgive me now, alanna and kelly, wherever you are), but hopefully, they will be tasty enough to please the folks who are eating them. (besides, we all know everyone cares mostly about the frosting, anyway, right?)

but i am covered in flour. substance #2.

so you say, well, that’s only two. where’s three, little miss can’t be wrong?

i got #3 for ya. in spades.

last night, left to his own devices, jools got hold of a BIG bottle of baby powder. mind you, we seldom ever used baby powder on either kids as babies, so this was a gift that we’d had since jools was born. to make a long story short, he poured all of exhibit A on his library books and CDs; on his furniture; in his BOOMBOX, in his drawers; and basically everywhere his little hands could go. i asked him later: why did you pour powder everywhere?

he informed me that he was sprinkling powder to scare away the skeletons. jools is afraid of skeletons. i don’t have the heart to tell him that there’s a skeleton inside of him at all times for fear he will never sleep again.

suffice to say that we’ll be living with the baby powder for awhile, or at least until we move him to his new room.

yep. beer. flour. powder. good things come in threes. yahoo.

it's raining beer. hallelujah, it's raining beer.

Posted on November 16, 2006 by wrekehavoc

my windows are wide open right now. there’s a tornado watch and thunderstorm warning and big ole wind gusts happening at the moment. and yet, i laugh at danger and welcome the fresh air in. why? because my kitchen currently smells like a frat house the day after a huge bash. oh, that, plus some lemony-fresh ammonia, which i used to wash the damn floor.

it’s the smell of an evil, poisonous shandy.

now, why, you might ask, is my house so odiforous that i am probably taking years off my life or at least giving myself some weird, kooky contact high? well, you see. we don’t drink a whole lot in this house. it isn’t like we’re opposed; in fact, we like indy-brewed beers, and me, i like a nice aussie shi-razzz, as i pronounce it. we just don’t get a big chance to drink all that much. i mean, BS spent the weekend doing painting and other major house-y tasks, and while i found one emptied bottle of beer in the recycling, i found an entire six pack of yoohoo lite. that pretty much sums us up in a nutshell.

but the remainder of said beer and other assorted bottled drinks was perched precariously atop our fridge. so this morning, when a certain someone who was half-asleep (we won’t mention names, i’ll just look at the party and whistle) vigorously opened the freezer door, the entire six-pack crashed to the kitchen floor. glass and beer were everywhere. there was much gnashing of teeth. it was not a pretty scene.

so here i was, ready to tackle the world today. and instead, i am burning cycles trying to pick up all the teeny shards and tyring to keep my house from stinkin’ like Plank Road.

the demise of fudgie the whale

Posted on November 15, 2006 by wrekehavoc

BS’s birthday is saturday. and most every year since we’ve been together (which includes dating, so it’s 19), i have gotten him a Fudgie the whale cake. there’s nothing behind the whole whale thing; it’s just so darn yummy. and fudgy.

and besides. he’s a whale of a guy. (yuk, yuk.)

anyway, in previous years, i drove all the way out to what i thought was a carvel, as they made the best darn fudgie cake ever (and for $22, cash or check only please). but last year, i inadvertantly created what BS refers to as Fudgiegate. you see, an actual carvel opened here in our town. when i went there and found out that they charge close to $40 for said Fudgie, i said, “wow, the carvel out in falls church sells them for $22!) thus began many calls from the owner of the carvel, asking me to make a statement about my experiences with the falls church carvel imposter. i was bummed; you see, i really liked the place out in falls church.

i ended up with a Fudgie from our local carvel, which was not half as tasty (and was somehow smaller!) than the pretender Fudgie. i vowed that this year, i would go back to the place in falls church.

so today, i called up to order a Fudgie the Whale from the place in falls church. seems that they are under new management now. and no one knows what the hell i mean by Fudgie the Whale. so now, i either go to our local carvel for a less-than-wonderful cake, or i punt on a tradition that is nearly two decades strong.

ah, Fudgie. we hardly knew ye.

at the playground

Posted on November 5, 2006 by wrekehavoc

we took a jaunt to a new playground this evening, BC, jools, BS, and BC’s pal, Alison. the kids all started to create a restaurant with some sandy mud and various sticks and acorns. so jools comes toddling over with a bucket first, filled with sand, and announces, “do you want some hamburgers and creme brulee?”

BS and i didn’t know he had ever heard of creme brulee. the fanciest we get is vanilla pudding.

a few minutes later, Alison comes over to collect some more sand near us. another mom is neaby with her little one, who is looking on wistfully, waiting to join in the restaurant biz. “what are you making?” i ask Al.

“Julian says he wants us to bring him a six-pack next.” jools learned this term from the adventures of zak and cody, where the heroes ask for a six-pack of soda. but it’s too long to explain that.

the other mother looks at us. we shrug. we wait for her to pick up her cell and call the authorities. fortunately, she just takes her son and walks over to the kids.

for anyone concerned, my kids seldom drink soda. and that’s about the hardest stuff they’ll get around here.

yee fucking haw

Posted on November 4, 2006 by wrekehavoc

tonight, BS is doing something above and beyond the call of duty: he is escorting BC to a Brownies HoeDown. i believe the fete includes:

bobbing for apples, doughnuts on a string, dancing, and more! get your dancing shoes on!

just what my guy loves to do on a chilly saturday night in november. but he’s a good sport, and he is also someone who apparently, in a fit of g-d-knows-what, was a 4-h square dancer as a kid. (this little fact has provided hours of amusement in 16+ years of marriage.) so he’ll allemande left and allemande right and teach BC the proper way to square dance.

meanwhile, back at the ranch, jools is actually jealous of his big sister. so i’ve borrowed that 1960s classic, the love bug from our library. we’ll pop popcorn, and i’ll experience all the buddy hackett i’ll need to experience for the next decade.

if only i were one of those incredibly creative moms who could think of more educational pursuits. we could make little turkeys out of wax paper and toenail clippers, or something like that. but no. we’ll watch an ancient video instead.

on the bright side, it ain’t the one with lindsay lohan in it.

hope you had a hell of a piss, arnold

Posted on September 28, 2006 by wrekehavoc

note to DH: you understand the subject line 😉 (and the hint for everyone else.)

DH had to go away on business. he doesn’t do it all that often, as he knows we all miss him too much when he goes. but this morning, he left for a business trip to The City (which for anyone who doesn’t know what means, Manhattan.) BC, who had been cheering for days at the thought of her dad’s trip (“now he won’t be here to yell at me!”) was wailing and moaning the loudest of anyone: “daddy, don’t leeeeeeeeeeeeeeave me!” being the biggest boohoo on the planet, i was finding it hard not to tear up seeing her in such grief. DH, though sensitive and kind to his DD, was able to tear himself away, leaving me with little miss teary-deary and jools, who was more interested in dora the explorer’s computer game on nick jr.com. i spent some time explaining how daddy doesn’t go away all that often and sometimes, he just has to. she said the only thing that would make her feel better would be talking to grandma, so i even got grandma and grandpa on the phone (at 7:30 a.m., which makes them pretty damn good sports in my book). no dice. finally, i resorted to the one thing i knew would snap her out of her funk:

curious george. (or, as he is fondly known in this house, curious jorge.)

yep. i resorted to television. once again, i am a bad mom. but i knew that she really wouldn’t snap out of it unless something really diversionary came her way. (and of course, i am secretly in love with the man in the yellow hat.)

it worked.

if i weren’t so pissed off at WETA for cancelling my beloved addiction, eastenders, i would send them money for this.

everyone had a good day at school; gymnastics class was fine. and then, the deluge. it monsooned here, just as i went to pick BC up with jools in tow. it was pissing down rain so hard, i could not see. we got home and had an hors d’oeuvre picnic on the family room floor, complete with BC and i trading off making up a story that was a little departure from the hansel and gretel tale of yore. it was actually fun. i got the kids showered, i read some stories (including my aborted attempt to read the spanish book jools took out from the school library today; BC was actually translating, but jools lost interest.)

we called DH, and he was on a ferry in the east river on his way to see a yankees game. i’m not thrilled about this on so many counts.

i wish he’d come home already.

independence day

Posted on July 4, 2006 by wrekehavoc

the kids are attempting naps at the moment in the hopes that they’ll be awake for 4th of july fireworks. hopefully, it won’t monsoon and preempt the light show tonight (although i for one would be perfectly happy settling in to WETA and watching taped festivities.) they are being separated by DH as we speak, as they are too excited to be in the same room together. at least BC put a pull-up on jools before they tried to nap together. the girl is smart.

but if we don’t get to see the fireworks, it won’t be a total loss (except to jools, who has been jonesing for them since he first saw them last july 4th). today, we set out early and snagged a space under a tree on the median of macarthur blvd in order to see the annual palisades 4th of july parade. and you know, this ain’t no typical smalltown usa sort of shindig, either. we watched the Different Drummers march (they played showtunes, of course), we watched some wonderful Bolivian children and teens dance, we saw very old firetrucks (from 1905), horses, lots of convertibles.

and we met every single candidate for council and mayor there ever was.

adrian fenty shook my hand and BC’s; and it seems as if every single other candidate was busy throwing candy and ice pops and stickers at the children (though one, a guy named orange, was also giving out actual oranges and orange bracelets). when fenty’s folks made a reappearance, they were throwing green mardi gras beads at us. (i was praying that BC wasn’t going to have to lift up her shirt to get the necklace. she certainly nearly ended up under the wheels of several convertibles trying to get candy. yes, my BC would probably sell me for candy.) BC covered jools’ shirt with campaign stickers.

of course, we aren’t DC citizens (neither were the marylanders standing behind us), so we smiled and waved at mostly everyone (except the republicans, who are like a laughable endangered species in DC.) we all cheered for the servicemen from the DC National Guard, of course. we folks of the liberal persuasion hate the war, but we do care for the men and women who are being hung out to dry in iraq by that fuckwitted man we have in the oval office.

but it’s independence day, and while i want to always exercise my right to flap my vitriol at elected leaders who aren’t fit to wipe my ass, i should probably tone things down to happier ideas. george washington. flags. the idiots here in the south who are allowed to play with their own fireworks and blow out an eye. yep. that’s what the 4th of july is all about.

perhaps one of the best points was when my little potty-training-dude had to go, just before the parade started. there is one, only one singular place open along the parade route to pee: starbucks. and yes, every potty training child in a three mile radius was waiting for that single bathroom. it wasn’t pretty. but i am very proud to state that jools made it 🙂

i hope we make it to fireworks. this patriotic stuff is so gol-darned fun.

keeping your solar plexus happy

Posted on June 21, 2006 by wrekehavoc

back in march, when i was in the throes of battling ITP, BS gave me a wonderful birthday present: a gift certificate for the “a day in paris” spa package at Fountains Day Spa. it was a hopeful gift, one that i knew i would one day be able to use when i was feeling better. and today was that day 🙂 i spent 4.5 hours at this sweet little rowhouse south of old town, mostly in the company of the owner, a lady named suzanne. i was lined up for an aromatherapy massage, a facial, lunch, and a pedicure/reflexology session.

suzanne knows feet. (and no, i am not a foot fetishist.) she specializes in reflexology. it all started when she was a child in south africa and she rubbed her pregnant mother’s feet. during my 80 minute aromatherapy massage, she helped me understand places on the feet and their correlation with the rest of the body. you should know that my feet show that i am a very powerful person (but rest assured – the way that my big toes point indicate that i wield my power with compassion. i bet in DC, she sees an abundance of obnoxious feet.) i’m also apparently a very artistic person, but with a certain shyness about it (probably the reason why i rarely show anything i write to anyone for years 😉

since my right side and left side have been rendered weak since my hospital stay, i have had meds, i have had PT, i have had MRIs, and nothing is providing lasting strength. suzanne did a lot of work on my medians, and i actually feel pretty good (even though some of the work hurt like hell.) in doing her work, she was a little astonished that one side of my back was extremely warm (right) and one cold (left.) apparently, i have plenty of toxins in me that need to be released; toxins hang out on the right side and exit on the left.

my first bit of homework: ditch the antiperspirant. apparently, deodorant is no biggie, but we need to sweat to release the toxins. if we don’t release them through our pits, then the body finds other ways and places — some people sweat in their faces, some in other skin folds, etc. and when it gets backed up in you, havoc is wreaked. (i had to say that.) i’m supposed to massage my armpits and my groin in the shower to keep the toxins moving.

(if my mother is reading this, don’t worry, mom, i am not massaging my groin 😉

when she worked on my front (that sounds sordid, i realize), suzanne first went and put her arms under my shoulders. “you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, don’t you?” she said. she could feel my stress, and that energy made her momentarily ill. (yes. i have the energy to poison a very happy healer.) but then, she got to my solar plexus. “Wow! you have a very, very joyous solar plexus. you must be a very joyful person, a person who feels very lucky.” boy, did she ever hit that on the money. BS and my friend jax both are of the opinion that if i fall in a vat of shit, i come up with flowers. (i don’t think either realizes how many times i come up with just shit.) neither realizes that i have always had a carpe diem attitude since i was 15 and nearly lost my mom to cancer. anyway, it was really neat to be someone so connected to touch. despite my health problems, she said that i actually felt like a very healthy person, a person whose body is just trying to right itself after some major illness. i’ve got a great pair of lungs (think that’s the first time a woman ever told me that), a back that is a little too curved for its own good (“but strong!”), and the ability to actually breathe properly (thanks to years of breathing training when i played flute.)

basically, all systems are go 🙂

a guy named francis did my facial. he is also a movie fan, so we traded quotes from “fast times at ridgemont high.” after the fairly ethereal conversations i had before this, it was pretty funny to be laying on a chair, face covered with goo, imitating jeff spicoli (sean penn) saying, “no shirt. no shoes? no dice!”

[fret not, gentle reader. i refrained from saying “lighten up, francis.”]