Where the Wild Things Are

Date Night July 28th

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Thu, 14 May 2009 16:52:00 +0000

Every year, when the California Mid State Fair rolls around, Ruben and I find one good concert to attend. You can see the details here and here for the last two years. The fair happens to fall within days of our wedding anniversary so, it usually becomes our gift to one another.

This year, nothing had really appealed to our senses. Journey and Heart were coming and while it would be cool to see them, we were a bit worried we would be the only people in our age group there to see either band willingly.

This morning, on our local classic rock station, they were announcing at 8:15 the newest band booked. It was promised to be of the same caliber as Aerosmith so, I tuned in at work to get the details. Then I called Ruben, “Its going to be Kiss,” I told him after the announcement.
“Kiss? With Gene Simmons?” he asked.
“Yep, Kiss.”
“When do tickets go on sale?”
“10 am next Thursday”

I got off the phone and continued my work day. Kind of excited but not thrilled.

He called back after the website had listed their press release.
“The website shows that they are going to have full pyrotechnics! Blood spitting! Fire breathing! And smoking guitars! We need to go!”

I sat silent.

“It’ll be the perfect date night!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Fire, blood spitting, and smoke…perfect date night.

“Tickets go on sale next week at 10am,” I informed him.
“How much?”
“They start at $42”
“And the best seats?”
“They are $67.”
“So, we need a super fast modem or we need to camp out.”
“Ok, honey. I’ll set my calendar at work.”
“To camp out? Great!”
“No Honey…”

The Coffee-Maker

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Thu, 14 May 2009 16:02:00 +0000

This morning, Lexi popped her head into the bathroom, as I was getting ready. Her eyes were still half closed and it was about half an hour before she normally gets up.

“Hey Honey, can you do me a favor? Can you turn on the coffee-maker for me?” I asked her.

“I did already. And now, I am going back to bed.”

My four year old daughter had gotten up for the sole purpose of making me coffee.
The mother – daughter bond has just reached a whole new level.

Mother's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Mon, 11 May 2009 22:58:00 +0000

Mother’s day this year was the best I have experienced. Both my kids are in preschool so they both made me wonderful gifts in their class. Mateo made me a laminated set of his handprints with a poem about how fast he’s growing up and a picture of him. It was so sweet. I wanted to cry. Lexi made me a bird house, painted every color pastel she could find. She wants to hang it in the yard and we will but there isn’t a bird small enough to get into it.
Then, there’s Ruben. The father of my children.

He got me Rock Band for our Wii. I had been wanting it for months. Let me tell you that I can get lost in Wii games for hours already but Rock Band… with that game, I could lose a few weeks. I opened it up and before I noticed, I had done, “just one more song” for 4 ½ hours. Woopsies! I got the kids rocking with me, singing on the microphone and banging on the drums. It takes me back to the days of being in a garage band and for those fleeting hours that I am rocking out, I forget that I work in accounting and am a mom and wife. For that time, I have my cotton candy pink hair back, I’ve got my led zeppelin shirt on, with my dad’s slacks and suspenders and my red doc martins.

For Mother’s Day, my husband reminded me that I can still be the fun chick I was BEFORE I was a mom. And that’s a pretty awesome gift.

Paging God...God, please pick up line 1

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Fri, 08 May 2009 02:58:00 +0000

There is a huge fire blazing in Santa Barbara currently and the station that I work for has been covering it as well as we can. When the receptionist temp we had up front could no longer handle a disgruntled caller, she transferred the woman to me.

Let me tell you right now, I am not a customer service kind of person so, how I kept my cool I am not sure. The woman started by demanding my name and title with the company. I gave them to her and she shouted, "Well, you're not God! I asked to talk to God!!!"

"God is a little busy right now, handling the fire in Santa Barbara, and everything else that is going wrong here on Earth. Is there something I could help you with?"

"Well, if he's not available, I want to leave him a message. Put me through to his voicemail!"

"Ma'am, God doesn't have voicemail here at the station, is there something I can help you with?"

She proceeded to complain about a promotion that had aired the night before when all she wanted to watch was the fire coverage. I offered over and over for her to turn on her tv and watch the current coverage, as we were doing a 4 hour segment of solid coverage, free of commercial breaks. She was adamant that she would never turn "that blasted tv" on again.

And some ten minutes into her complaining, she stopped. Stumbled over her current thought, and asked if I had said we were currently airing fire coverage. I confirmed that we were, for the 10th time, and she joyously said thank you, complimented my patience, turned her tv back on and hung up the phone.

Now, I am curious, why would anyone assume I could get God on the line for them? At the local tv station?!? Isn't it common knowledge that media is the furthest thing from God, next to hell?

And, really, if we had God at the station, I wonder what his voice mail recording would say,
"Hi, you've reached God, I'm unavailable right now. Please leave a prayer at the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as I can" ? Is that about how it would go?

And then there is the whole idea that, um, yea...if God were at the station, don't you think he would be tied up in an exclusive interview regarding the fire? Couldn't you just imagine the questions?

God, how many homes do you plan on destroying in this fire?
How long will it last?
How many people will die from this fire?
How do you feel about the name of the fire being Jesusita?
Now, God, I thought your son said the next time you came down here, it'd be hell. Oh, wait. Is that what this is?
Why is this fire blazing? Are You SMITING Santa Barbara?

I think I am going to put in a requisition for that voicemail box tomorrow.

Agenda:Fitness

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Wed, 06 May 2009 19:54:00 +0000

Hey guys, in case you didn't notice from the sidebar, I started a new blog, Agenda:Fitness, which is entirely about getting my behind in shape. Because, well...I've gained weight. Enough to now be bigger than I have ever been in MY ENTIRE LIFE!!!

So, yea, check it out. Suggest tips? Send support? Join the cause?

My new Agenda? Fitness!

Mateo's 3rd Birthday

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Mon, 04 May 2009 01:29:00 +0000

Little Mister turned 3 this past weekend and the aching in my heart was unbearable. Its always easier to take Lexi's birthdays because she's not the baby. Mateo on the on the other hand...well, breaks my heart with each milestone because there is no one after him. He's the last child I will have!!!

He woke up and demanded that we sing to him over and over again. And, in the car, driving to Half Moon Bay, he repeatedly used the excuse, "But its my birthday..." every time he wanted what his sister had. This gets old really fast.

He rocked his birthday in his very own composition of clothing (not an outfit!) and was the boss for the day.

Beyond the Super Hero action figures galore, there has been a lot of growing up this little guy has done recently.

Mateo has been potty trained. Which I hear is a big deal for boys before age 3. It was kind of a big deal in our house... I mean, there was a lot of begging and pleading...but he now is happy to be fully using the potty. He also is being bumped up to the next class in preschool a few months early. Turns out, he's pretty smart and would benefit from the bigger kid curriculm. Yea! He also figured out how to ride his bike on slopes which is something Lexi still doesn't have figured out.

All in all, he's growing up. Whether I like it or not.

Little Man

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Sat, 02 May 2009 02:47:00 +0000

Mateo's third birthday is tomorrow. I will post pictures of his birthday after the party. We're driving up to Half Moon Bay and I am praying that the kids won't kill each other in the back seat of the car during the three hour drive.

It was about this time, three years ago today, that I was bawling in my hospital bed, whole body convulsing uncontrollably, tossing my cookies in a tub. I made my father so uncomfortable that he left, unable to listen...or smell... not really sure which.

The doctor had promised that labor would only take about 6 hours since this was the second time inducing. Of course, that was at 10 am, which was a full 10 hours before. So much for that!

Even at this hour, we were holding out hope for a 05/01 birthday since it would have the same digits as Lexi (10/05) and Ruben and I share the same digits (01/27 and 10/27). When 11:45 rolled around and I still had not dilated past a 2, Ruben said he would settle for Cinco de Mayo.

Hell if I was going to hold this baby in for another 4 days! Sheesh!

I got an epidural around 10 pm, only 6 hours past when everyone thought I would have a baby in my arms. The anesthesiologist told me it would be a short one, because, surely, it could not be much longer. Still, shaking, I fell asleep for a couple short hours around 1 am.

It was around 4 am that the pain came searing back through my body and with screams of pain, I not only told my mother and husband that I was going to die and that my husband was going to die, but when the doctor walked in, I screamed to the room that WE WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!
As, my doctor called in the anesthesiologist, I continued my screaming, crying tirade. I was trying to push a freight train out of a hole I was certain was never intended to become grand central station.

It was about 5:30 am when the nurse announced to the room that I was still only dilated to a 2. And, it was only 20 minutes later that I was screaming about the burning hard pressure of a skull trying to push its way out of my body. Just like that, the nurses were begging me to breathe, I had dilated to a ten and the baby had crowned. I needed to hold him in until the doctor came back to catch the baby. At 6:02 am, Mateo was born. And, our world has not been the same since.

How Not to Avoid Swine Flu

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 21:59:00 +0000

20 Things You Didn't Know About Death

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 21:07:00 +0000

One of my very best friends forwarded me a link to 20 facts about death you didn’t know that I had happened to read that morning.

These were the emails following:

_______________________________

From: Alli
To: Elena
Subject: RE: Found this interesting
Date: Wed, 22 Apr 2009 12:01:47 -0700

I read that this morning! I love those kind of things. The eye bugging enzymes were kind of gross but I think the winner for me was the burial shroud for the childless married couple. Ewww!

-A.
_______________________________

From: Elena
Sent: Wednesday, April 22, 2009 1:37 PM
To: Alli
Subject: RE: Found this interesting

omg how about the people that were burried alive! Ahhhh what a nightmare

_______________________________

From: Alli
To: Elena
Subject: RE: Found this interesting
Date: Wed, 22 Apr 2009 13:53:43 -0700

Yes, buried alive would be one of my biggest fears but could you imagine doing the deed on a shroud covered in dead person bacteria and flesh eating enzymes?

-A.
_______________________________

From: Elena
Sent: Wednesday, April 22, 2009 2:01 PM
To: Alli
Subject: RE: Found this interesting

depends on the guy. is he hot?

jk hell no not even if I was drunk and high!

_________________________________

And that…THAT is why I love this girl!

The Newest Addition

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 20:58:00 +0000

The kids have been begging for a new dog or a kitty since Toby was stolen six months or so ago. I have strongly considered a cat but Ruben was extremely fearful for our very expensive furniture. I was more fearful for the little furball. I mean, my kids don’t exactly get that you should hold a kitten nicely. They would much prefer to hold it by its neck as it screams for mercy.
Easter came and went with no new pets in our house and I found myself more than a little bummed by that. I had been hoping to get the kids something to love on beyond the usual plush toys but Ruben stood adamant that it was a bad idea. I begrudgingly opted for gifts that were less of a commitment, like jump ropes and squirt guns.
This morning, the kids and I were watching Saturday morning cartoons and I realized that I was really bugged by having a petless household. I got the kids dressed and out of the house before Ruben was even considering waking up. We drove to the nearest pet store and started shopping.
First there were the dog adoptions. Each of those little mangy mutts was adorable and the kids seemed to adore each of them but a dog is a responsibility I would definitely be fully in charge of and if that dog got stolen, too, I would be so heart broken all over again. Next, there were snakes and lizards, those were a no right off the bat. I will not own a snake. Period. End of sentence. No way. No how. Next there were the gerbils and I just think they are weird so: no. Then were the birds and the idea of squawking all day and night and being bitten while attempting to clean a cage and I was not going for that. We ended up at the back of the store where the fish are and a light bulb went off in my head. A goldfish would be perfect! There’s no walking a goldfish, no squawking, no weirdness, no creepy vibe.
We are now the proud owners of a pet goldfish named Fishy. The kids love it, Ruben is ok with it, and I feel like we have successfully built the perfect little family: a husband, wife, daughter, son, and goldfish. We are complete!

Easter is Near

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 01:32:00 +0000

My kids have been begging me for quite some time now for the "Reaster Bunny" to come to our house and poop eggs full of candy and temporary tattoos all over our lawn. Can I just say, them being more aware of the holidays is one of my least favorite parts of them being in school? Now how and I going to smoothly sneak out and buy the Easter accessories we need? Exactly. I am not. Just like my daughter was hyper aware of Santa shopping to the point that I felt like a criminal the way I snuck around to get gifts.

Anyway...

Today, our downtown association hosted an Easter Egg hunt and pictures with the Easter bunny today, so, of course, at the opportunity to give the kids (and myself) some peace, we went.

For the first time ever, Mateo was the good sport and Lexi was not.

Mateo sat on the Easter Bunny's lap.

Lexi would not.

Mateo got an egg.

Lexi would not even try....

So, here is the best I could do with what I was working with.

On the upside, Lexi totally had the stomach flu this morning but at the thought of getting to see that good ol' Reaster Bunny, she seems to be all better. These fictional icons sure do work wonders.

The Difference Between Moms and Dads

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 22:18:00 +0000

Yesterday was a teacher work day for my kids’ preschool and so I stayed home with them. I booked all their needed doctor and dentist appointments for the morning and then many more activities. We did all the appointments by 10 and then had breakfast, met up with a friend, and headed to the zoo. By noon, we were at Walmart, and then off to the grocery store. I ran the kids around until they were starving and hungry. I brought them home, fed them lunch, and put them down for naps. While they slept, I did 3 loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and put away all of our purchases. I even managed to get in a little lunch for myself.
I was completely wiped out by the time Ruben got home but he immediately laid down for a nap. A new challenge arose: keeping the kids entertained quietly so daddy could sleep.

When he woke up the kids were so excited to tell him all about their day and the zoo. “Mmhhmm… that’s nice” he would say as he paid attention to anything else.

While I was making dinner, Mateo ran to Ruben and said, “Look Daddy! Look! I’ve got monies!!”
“Good job Mateo…” Ruben trailed off. It was clearly his turn to watch the kids but he was doing everything but that.

“Mateo, can I see your monies?” I asked from the kitchen.
“Yea! Mommy, look!”

Inside a little box he had the ENTIRE contents of Ruben’s wallet. Money, credit cards, Mexican pesos…EVERYTHING.

“Oh, Wow! Mateo! This is great! Can I have your money and cards so I can give them back to the right person?” I asked.

“Sure, sure…its Daddy’s” Mateo said, handing over his prize.

“I thought it might be – I’ll make sure he gets what he needs” I said with a wink and a thought of a swift kick in the butt.

So, I am wondering how long it will take Ruben to put the two together and how far he’s going to get today on an empty wallet because I am not giving those things back to him until he figures it out! Maybe then he will pay attention.

Oh who am I kidding?!? That’s the difference between Moms and Dads!

Potty Training is Really a Poopy Job!

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 23:07:00 +0000

Never did I think my world would be so consumed with the thoughts and worries of someone else’s bodily functions as I am, and yet here I am, writing about it and how my son’s diaper days NEED to be over!

With Lexi it was easy. One day we decided it was time to potty train her and the next day she was in panties and doing great. The girl has had maybe 3 accidents ever.

Mateo on the other hand, is the king of control. This toilet training thing has become a battle of the wills in my house. I ask him to go potty he says no. I offer him a treat, he negotiates for a Halloween basket worth of candy and then changes his mind to up the ante and then he holds more power. The more I offer, the more power he gets but just when I am about to throw my hands in the air and give up, he goes.

We are two weeks into the process of training and Mateo is having one accident almost every day and I am finding myself so frustrated and so bothered by it that I can’t concentrate anywhere. I call his school to check in and hear how many times he’s tried, succeeded, missed…I wait and watch as he withholds bowel movements for days like it’s the most important thing. I am pretty sure the next time he goes number two on his Spiderman potty I will be as shocked and thrilled as if Ed McMahon came to my door with an oversized check.

Truth be told, we only decided to train him to save money. It had nothing to do with freeing the landfills of one less child’s disposable diapers filled with excrements or advancing him to the next level of independence. It was all about the $120 we spend a month on him that we could be saving for something more important like, I don’t know, our mortgage?

So now, I am wondering how long is this process supposed to take? What are the secrets to being successful? How do I get the kid to hold it from 8:30pm to 6:00am? Am I going to lose my mind before this whole thing is over, and how does one accident result in so much dirty clothing?!? Do you know how many socks the kid goes through? I had no idea socks would need changed!

Too good to not!

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 18:01:00 +0000

I just discovered these two little gems on the internet yesterday and I feel the desperate need to share them with you:

The Customer is Not Always Right

Sorry Mom!

Enjoy these nuggets of gold!

Never Bring Plants into the House

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 22:43:00 +0000

Garden Grass Snakes also known as Garter Snakes can be dangerous. Yes, grass snakes, not rattlesnakes. Here's why:A couple in Sweetwater , Texas , had a lot of potted plants.. During a recent cold spell, the wife was bringing a lot of them indoors to protect them from a possible freeze. It turned out that a little green garden grass snake was hidden in one of the plants and when it had warmed up, it slithered out and the wife saw it go under the sofa.She let out a very loud scream.The husband (who was taking a shower) ran naked into the living room to see what the problem was. She told him there was a snake under the sofa. He got down on the floor on his hands and knees to look for it. About that time the family dog came and cold-nosed him on the behind.He thought the snake had bitten him, so he screamed and fell over on the floor. His wife thought he had a heart attack, so she covered him up, told him to lie still and called an ambulance. The attendants rushed in, wouldn't listen to his protests and loaded him on the stretcher and started carrying him out.About that time the snake came out from under the sofa and the Emergency Medical Technician saw it and dropped his end of the stretcher. That's when the man broke his leg and why he is still in the hospital. The wife still had the problem of the snake in the house, so she called on a neighbor man..He volunteered to capture the snake. He armed himself with a rolled-up newspaper and began poking under the couch. Soon he decided it was gone and told the woman, who sat down on the sofa in relief. But while relaxing, she dangled her hand in between the cushions, where she felt the snake wriggling around. She screamed and fainted and the snake rushed back under the sofa.The neighbor man, seeing her lying there passed out, tried to use CPR to revive her.The neighbor's wife, who had just returned from shopping at the grocery store, saw her husband's mouth on the woman's mouth and slammed her husband in the back of the head with a bag of canned goods, knocking him out and cutting his scalp so badly that he needed stitches.The noise woke the woman from her dead faint and she saw her neighbor lying on the floor with his wife bending over him, so she assumed that he had been bitten by the snake. She went to the kitchen and got a small bottle of whiskey, and began pouring it down the man's throat. By now the police had arrived.They saw the unconscious man, smelled the whiskey, and assumed that a drunken fight had occurred. They were about to arrest them all when the women explained that it all happened over a little green snake. The police called an ambulance, which took away the neighbor and his sobbing wife.The little snake again crawled out from under the sofa. One of thepolicemen drew his gun and fired at it. He missed the snake and hit the leg of the end table. The table fell over, the lamp on it shattered and, as the bulb broke, it started a fire in the drapes.The other policeman tried to beat out the flames, and fell through thewindow into the yard on top of the startled family dog who, jumped out and raced into the street where an oncoming car swerved to avoid the dog and smashed into the parked police car. Meanwhile, the burning drapes were seen by the neighbors who called the fire department.The firemen had started raising the fire truck ladder when they were halfway down the street. The rising ladder tore out the overhead wires and put out the electricity and disconnected the telephones in a ten-square city block area. But they did get the house fire out.Time passed and both men were discharged from the hospital, the house was repaired, the dog came home, the police were issued a new car, and all was right with their world. Several days later the wife and husband were watching television and the weatherman announced a cold snap for that night.
The wife asked her husband if he thought they should bring in their plants for the night.
That's when he shot her!

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 17:40:00 +0000

I figured we were do for a picture here somewhere. This is a picture of the kids the other night sitting in the yard. Its finally warm enough that we can be outside past 5 pm so, we've been taking full advantage.

I am pretty sure, if I were solar powered, I would have been fully charged at the end of last weekend.

Mateo must be imitating the flash that goes off when a picture is taken.

My One Year Anniversary with the Feral Plant

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 16:16:00 +0000

I have a black thumb, those of you that know me, know that this is no exaggeration. I could kill your plant simply by looking at it. Its something I am not proud of by any means but I am aware of and work with it.
A year ago, my boss gave me a plant, a live one. I accepted it with a cringe, worrying of the offense that might be taken if it died within a week.

I started out by giving the plant the last of the water that was in my cup every week or so. Then, it became the last of whatever might have been in my cup. You wouldn’t imagine how perked up that plant would get after a dose of crystal light. I left it on my desk, under the fluorescent lights day in and day out with no chance of ever having it see actual light. It continued to not only grow but bloom.

This plant will be the ONLY plant EVER that has survived more than a week in my presence and I have deemed it the “feral plant” because it does not live in a manner similar to its own kind with naturally derived chlorophyll or fresh water. It actually does best with lemon water, tea, sugar free juice drinks and the occasional soda. And the deep green leaves are the direct response of office ambiance also known as fluorescent tubes.

I put it out in the sun for thirty minutes the other day, thinking of giving it a treat, and it whithered quite quickly. I promptly returned it, gave it a splash of sparkling lemonade, and waited with baited breath. I had grown fond of this strange plant. It needed to live! Within an hour it was showing visible signs of improvement.

I love that feral plant and don’t know what I would I do without it, anymore!

Please don’t call the Plant Protection Services on me!!!

Wednesday - Hump Day

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 21:49:00 +0000

Lately, work has been a bit stressful for my husband (his firm is finally joining the rest of us, clinging for their jobs with absolute desperation) and so, I have been a bit more nurturing than I might normally be. I have cut out eating out at lunch (the horror!), I have cancelled cable (did I mention I work in TV?!?), and I have been making more macaroni and cheese than I care to admit (can I get a salad up in here?). I even decided to postpone any vacation plans we might have wanted to day dream about for the next year or so (sucking the LIFE out of me, here!!!)

Yesterday morning, the alarm went off and I attempted to shake Ruben out of bed. “I don’t want to get up!” he grunted.
“But its Wednesday,” I coaxed.
“Oh greeaaatttt…”
“Come on, you know: Wednesday – Hump day”

That’s when I realized that even before the sun comes up at least *those* synapses are firing for men.
“Oh really?” He asked as he scooted closer…

I wacked a pillow in his face, called him a perve and hopped in the shower.

The line must be drawn somewhere…

That Crazy Man I Live With

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 22:45:00 +0000

One of my favorite bloggers, Heather Armstrong of dooce.com, brought this meme over from facebook and it was hilarious! I felt inclined to share some background by doing the same…Most of you probably don’t know a lot about Ruben. That might be a good thing!

What are your middle names?
My middle name is Breanne. Ruben's middle name is Dagoberto. In fact, he’s a Jr. I saved our son…He owes me BIG time for not becoming Ruben Dagoberto Ruiz III.

How long have you been together?
We’ve been married for 7 ½ years, together 8 ½ years.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met a month or two before we started dating. I thought he was creepy and thoroughly annoying. Two very attractive qualities, apparently.

Who asked whom out?
He asked me. In fact, he would not take no for an answer. I must’ve given 5 excuses that he knocked down right away…he was determined!

How old are each of you?
I'm 26, he's OLD 31. The 5 ½-year age difference, always gets played up on birthdays. God, I will never get tired of offering an arm of assistance for his tired bones as we walk out of a steakhouse on his latest milestone.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
We see both sets fairly evenly which sucks because my two sisters are local and his siblings are 3 hours away but we try to keep it fair and all…

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Um, our house is the bane of our existence. I cried the day we closed escrow and after fixing it all up to sell, we had a flood and got to start all over. We’ve now missed the possibility of having any equity in our house, thankyouverymuch recession and will be stuck in this evil little house until things change…

Did you go to the same school?
We both went to the same high school but he graduated in 1995 and I graduated in 2001. He went to Cal Poly for college and I went to Long Beach State

Are you from the same home town?
Yes, we are both from the pumpkin capital of the world, the lovely, the tiny, stop sign on a black top of a city, Half Moon Bay.

Who is smarter?
We could debate this for hours but this man refused to recognize “dollop” as a word. He also needs me to fix the computers, cook, make all decisions regarding our children…. On the other hand, he is smart enough to convince me to do all these things so…

Who is the most sensitive?
Me. I am the one who is a step away from being locked up in a padded room so, its safe to say ME ME ME!!!!

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Hmmm…is this a trick question? Wouldn’t that require us to eat out?

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
St. Maarten, Netherlands Antilles – part of a cruise last year, thanks mom and dad!

Who has the craziest exes?
I do. Hands down. Mine are the ones who keep reappearing in our lives, either hopelessly begging for me to consider their jobless ass for a second chance, or to hear that they are homeless and have put more white powder up their nose than Whitney Houston. They are some real gems, let me tell you!

Who has the worst temper?
Depends. I have the screaming and swearing kind of temper and he has the screaming and punch stuff kind. Only kidding. Have you met us? We are two of the quietest people EVER…

Who does the cooking?
Me. I taught Ruben how to make Campbell’s soup when we first got together and thought we were progressing as I tried to teach him to make maccaroni and cheese from the box. Do you know how HORRIBLY wrong Kraft Mac ‘n’ Cheese can go? Because I do!

Who is the neat-freak?
I used to be. When I lived on my own, my place was spotless. Now, there is crap EVERYWHERE! And I have given up hope!

Who is more stubborn?
I am of Irish/German decent. He is Mexican… you be the judge. But I will tell you this: Our kids are EVIL stubborn!

Who hogs the bed?
Ruben. At least every other night, I get pushed right off. Our bed is so miserably uncomfortable that the only place Ruben is willing to lay is right in the middle and he tosses, snores, kicks, shouts, and does this weird ballerina, twinkle toes thing.

Who wakes up earlier?
Me. Ruben would not be up until noon if he had the choice. But he lives with two children under 5 and me…he has no choice!

Where was your first date?
San Benito House Deli for lunch. I had the cheese and avocado sandwich on wheat, no avocado…back in the vegetarian days.

Who is more jealous?
Totally me. He gets calls from his octogenarian boss and I go ape shit: “Who was that? Why was she calling? Doesn’t she know its family time?” I might need to work on it.

How long did it take to get serious?
Well, we started dating in September and were married by July so…not long?

Who eats more?
He does. I would try to keep up but I would be the size of a bus! Damn his great genetics!

Who does the laundry?
He does his. I do everything else. And that includes folding the piles of clean clothes he just did but wants to leave sitting on top of the dryer FOREVER or until he chooses to wear it. Whichever comes first.

Who's better with the computer?
Me. Ruben has asked me how to access the internet with the bright blue e (of internet explorer) staring right at him. Yea….

Who drives when you are together?
Usually Ruben. We are both back seat drivers, though. I drive too fast, he drives way too slow and forgets the off ramp he needs on a regular basis.

Feel free to answer some or all of the same questions about your significant other in the comments, or leave a link to your website if you prefer answering there.

The Heart Break Files, part 11

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 19:31:00 +0000

The days passed on and I couldn’t bring myself to write about the feelings I was having. I was completely destroyed by the “rebirth” of Jesse. The more I wrote about it, the more it lingered. I waited in hope for the Pumpkin Festival. I had invited him to attend before the final email and deep down, I knew it was a closed book if he chose not to attend. My relationship with Ruben stayed in limbo. Lexi’s 4th birthday came and went as I secretly held out hope for the third weekend in October. It was the Friday before, as we drove to Half Moon Bay, that I realized, I was doing the exact thing I wanted to avoid: I was pulling away from my husband as I was trying to pull away from my memories. My heart could be in love with two men or not at all but I was having a hard time clearing out the space for just one man to hold my heart.

Ruben and I never did have the conversation that needed to be had about where we stood. It seemed obvious that there was work to be done but we had to rebuild a trust in the relationship we had before we could work on the issues safely.

Saturday morning, after a visit to the local coffee shop, I got the kids into their costumes and braced myself for finality. I put in my mind that if Jesse came to the parade, then I had to face him and the emotions that would come with. If he was not, I had to let go. Let go of Jesse, let go of the memories, let go of the hope, let go of the heart break.

I never saw him at the festival. Not during the parade or the day after. If he was there, I would never know. But I do know that my heart didn’t let go the way I had promised myself I would let it.

I wanted to write to him and ask him why. I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to break through the lack of communication.
I didn’t.

I let days and weeks pass and most of the time, the moments spent on memories would flutter past. I would catch myself reliving a moment, only to realize it was wasted time. I found myself looking at my husband with a softer look than ever before. He was the safe bet. He had always been there, always stood by, always put up with the highs and lows.

Over Thanksgiving, we travelled up to Ruben’s family in the east bay, and I thought of Jesse and possibly running into him – I couldn’t believe that I still held out hope that he was watching. I had to know that he didn’t care. And more importantly, I shouldn’t care.

Even now, months later, I find myself unable to say that the heart break is over but I do know that the journey with Jesse is over. There is no hope to be had.

My family went through hell and back with my emotional roller coaster and it was unfair for them. I pray that Ruben and I live a long happy life together because I would not wish another heart break like that on anyone, especially my children.

I guess the only thing left to say is:
Goodbye Jesse and good riddance.

The Heart Break Files, part 10

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 18:03:00 +0000

Day 9 – I think this is the day that just would not quit. Both the kids woke up with colds, were raging lunatics all morning, and then at work I was in back to back meetings, all during my crunch time of the month for work. I thought I was going to seriously lose it. I checked in on myspace and saw that Jesse, who has still not added me as a friend, has changed his profile picture to a darker image where he is wearing a hat, sitting back in a dark leather sofa. From the tiny 1 inch by 1 inch photo, I realized, I would never have recognized him from that! I wondered if he did it on purpose. I wanted to write to him but stopped myself. Not only trying to save what little dignity I had left but also to rush out to a meeting.

During these meetings, I took a major stand to finally expose someone as the failure that they are. This person happened to be one of my very best friends over the last year but I found her more and more grating recently and had really distanced myself from her, growing to despise her. When the powers that be wanted to make her the point person for her department on a huge project that would definitely lead to a promotion down the line, I cut them off and alerted them to the fact that the job would be very detail oriented and well, this person, was dyslexic and would inevitably screw this up where there is no room for anything less than perfection. I hated myself after doing it but I could not stand the idea of her getting this big project, screwing it up, getting promoted, and three months down the line, me getting to do all the clean up work as she reaped the rewards that came with the position. I was not having it.

I went home on a high. Half impressed that I had the guts to speak up, half distressed at my lack of heart. Oh, who am I kidding, my heart went out the window last weekend!

The Heart Break Files, part 9

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Fri, 03 Oct 2008 18:01:00 +0000

Day 8 – This morning, somewhere near 4 am, Ruben whispered, I love you, to me. I mumbled it back, not wanting to seem cold hearted but more than anything, it had been too long since he was giving that kind of thing away and I just didn’t really no what game he was playing but I didn’t want any part of it. I can’t afford heartbreak again and until he and I get a chance to sit down and really talk about what’s going on with us since the huge blow out Sunday night, I don’t want to get any sort of my hopes up.

I stumbled out of bed around 5am and got ready for the day. I actually took a few moments to read a gossip magazine and sip some water before crawling back into bed around 5:45 and shutting my eyes for a bit. Ruben rubbed my back and asked for the time. I told him it wasn’t even six yet and we both just laid there and rested until the coughing in Lexi’s room was too much to ignore. I got up, brought her to my bed, and then found her some tights and a dress to wear to school and the morning quickly fell into the routine rushing around.

I got to work and hit the ground running. I had a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time. I buried myself in accounting and ignored the memories of Jesse. This is a particularly difficult task when my relationship with Jesse started in a math class. We met my freshman year of high school. He was a junior, sitting in the back of the class, wanting to disappear and just pass. I was a freshman, hanging out in the middle, passing notes with my best friend and rolling my eyes at the incompetent teacher up front. I noticed him first. I thought he was hot and started sitting just in front of him. Then, during breaks in the action, I would ask to borrow his eraser or ask how his day was going. After a while, he was comfortable enough to jump into conversations with my friend and I and then, I started passing him notes. I learned that he had a huge crush on a girl named Monica and that he was really trying to win her over. I remember going to a football game, seeing him sitting by her, and though I wanted to strike up a conversation and sit next to him, I didn’t want to run interference on any moves he was trying to make. I caught up with a guy I was casually dating, and we skipped out on the game and headed down to get some snacks from the store. As we were walking out, Jesse walked in. I remember taking a huge side step from him as I didn’t want Jesse to think the other guy and I were together.

The next Monday in class, he wrote me a note, wondering who it was I was seeing and what the deal was. It wasn’t long after that when things started to warm up. Another girl had a crush on the guy I was dating and she attacked me at my locker. She punched me, over and over and I just stood there and let it happen. When word got around to Jesse he refused to let me walk the halls alone and started escorting me to every class and then, he wrote the note that changed everything. Midway through a mundane conversation about random happenings at school, Jesse asked me to be his girlfriend. At first, I questioned if I was just a second pick since things were going no where with Monica but he said it had nothing to do with Monica and I agreed to be an item. We joked later that when we were married we would frame the note and hang it on a wall and tell our grandkids about it. But the pencil lines have no doubt faded, as did our relationship.

The Heart Break Files, part 8

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 17:55:00 +0000

Day 7 – The morning was a fun one! Lexi was yelling at me for opening her bedroom door before she was ready to wake up and Mateo fought with me over everything. I didn’t know wrestling with a two year old was something that could be such a work out until I actually had a two year old that wanted to wrestle. Ruben was ironing in Mateo’s room as I fought with him to take off the pajamas he was wearing and put on day clothes. I thought to myself that if Ruben wanted to know how I could possibly be so exhausted on the weekends, perhaps he should look at my day-to-day activities during the week. I am one of those people. I am sure there are many more out there. I am the person who wake up an hour before anyone else so she can get ready and then, as her husband does nothing but get himself ready and occasionally “gets the car ready” I am in the house getting two night owl children up and ready, dressed, fed, hair combed, teeth brushed, lunches and homework in hand and out to the car. I drive frantically to the preschool where I drop the kids off, give at least 5 goodbye kisses and hugs, and rush to make it to work on time. I work a solid 8-9 hour day, depending on whether I have carpooled with Ruben or not because if he has the car, well, then, I’m working through lunch. At 5:00pm, on the nose, I hightail it out the door and am in the car to make the mad dash 22 miles away to pick up the kids before school closes at 5:30. Then the fun begins, getting snacks in hand for the car ride home, mediating fights, disciplining kicking and screaming at the dinner table because tonight someone didn’t want chicken on their plate, carrying the patience of a saint as Lexi procrastinates bed time with 130 things she wants to get done at 8:30, and then getting the evening all cleaned up. Yep. That’s what my day looks like. But heaven forbid, after 5 in a row, I might want to rest up a bit. Avoiding the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon is worthy of leaving my life empty of the romantic love that I so desperately need. I am so bitter. Is it obvious?

Ruben fought with me the whole way to work over the placement of the sun visor on my side of the car. He wanted it to block the sunlight from his face while I was driving. I honestly think that if we need to talk to one another right now, it is going to become an argument because that’s all he wants to do. I eventually sat silently, knowing there was no reason to continue this stupidity.

I got to work and felt like I barely stumbled in the door and this is not the right time to be without your composure. Its budget time. On top of it being go time for accounting as it always is for the last couple days of the month and the first couple days of the month, we are also determining our 2009 budget while trying to cut as many costs as we can during this poor economic time. I immediately got to work and tried to force both the men trying to ruin my life out of my head. Right there, in that last sentence, I totally sound like a victim and I do not even care!

I started reconciling September’s Accounts Receivable ledger to the General ledger and was completely disappointed in myself. The 24th was a disaster. I did everything wrong and each item was a rookie mistake. It was clear that I let too much of my personal life bleed into work. I did my adjustments and moved on to reconcile Accounts Payable. Phew! It was clean! An email came from my boss. The powers that be had approved my Human Resources ideas for team building around the station. Now I just needed to pull together a mock up for review and we just might have some resume building criteria. I feel like work is the one place that I can work hard and it shows. If only my home life were the same way. I didn’t really look forward to the ride home. I almost dread what the next fight will be about or how many times I will screw up tonight. I probably shouldn’t think like that. I probably shouldn’t think at all right now but that’s the thing about being a woman. My mind does not shut down. It just rolls through every random bit of information it can, faster than I could even say them aloud which is very cruel.

The car ride home was very quiet until we picked up the children. Mateo had bitten another child in class again. He had never done this until recently. Two weeks ago, his best friend bit him and now he has bitten his friend 3 times! I don’t know how to handle this but I am worried. So, I brought it up in the car. He thought it was funny that we were so worried about him biting kids. Lexi decided to chime in with lots of bossing and controlling. She is a little mother. The only issues come when she decides to boss Ruben and me. That’s where I draw the line on appropriateness. The kids both picked on one another until both were crying or whining alternately and I was thoroughly grateful to hit solid ground when we finally got home.

I did all the normal things, cooked, cleaned up, and then started the bedtime processes. I wanted to grab the camera to take some recent pictures since I haven’t in about a month when I realized it wasn’t where I left it. Ruben said he was worried about it in the car so, he took it into work and must’ve left it there. He decided to go get it from work and bring it back. I was confident that it could wait until the next day but he was sure it couldn’t. It took him almost 2 hours to go 30 miles, grab the camera, and come back. I was sure he wasn’t just going to pick it up. But could I prove anything? No. So, I just had to let it go, its not like he wanted to be my husband anymore anyway.

All night he tried to cuddle me. I completely ignored it as he rubbed my back or put his face against mine and wrapped his arms around me. I figured he was just sleeping and didn’t realize what he was doing and if I did it back, it would be unwarranted affection and he would be pissed. I feel like I am getting very cold hearted these days but I think it’s the only way to protect myself from a complete breakdown.

The Heart Break files, part 7

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 17:52:00 +0000

Day 6 – I startled awake at 4 am, stumbled into the bathroom and strongly considered just getting up for the day. But my eyelids were almost the size of my lips, swollen with teary irritation. I needed to go back to sleep and hope they would calm down a bit. I woke again at 5 and watched the clock until 530 when I officially decided it could be Monday. Ruben had asked me to wake him when I got up but I thought I would give him another 15 minutes. I got out of the shower and got dressed. My eyelids still huge and I felt no relief from the dire position I was in the night before. I still was wondering if I should look for a place to get the kids and me away from this place. Could I trust Ruben not to lose it again? I whispered to him to rise and shine and then went to put on make up. A little cortisone cream can work wonders on eyes, by the way. He didn’t get up. I finished my hair and make-up and he still wasn’t awake. I crawled back in bed to warm up for a few minutes as he peeked over me to see the time. The clock flipped to six as he stumbled to the shower. I closed my eyes and began to relax at the idea of being alone. “The door is GONE! Can you believe it, Mommy?” Lexi plopped onto the bed and was wide-awake for this time of day. We talked a bit and I assured her that she would be safe and no, Daddy would not break down any more doors. Not hers, not Mateo’s, not any more. After some tickling and cuddling, I had both the kids dressed and out the door. I held my breath as I dropped them off at school, terrified of the response I would get from their teachers that afternoon.

Work was crazy. It was the end of the month and I had wrap up to do on all things financial. I didn’t want to be there and everything felt like it was headed down hill. The Bailout Bill failed to pass, the stock market dropped 778 points and I had a headache I thought was going to split me in half. I ate lunch, checked out the latest gossip blogs, and wished that a fairy would come by and make everything disappear. I wanted to write to Jesse, tell him of the night before. Ask him if he thought I should move out. Would that be the needed catalyst to make my life make sense again? Because I really feel that just a couple short weeks ago, before I started reconnecting and pushing buttons I shouldn’t push, my life was FINE! Now, I am not certain I have anything left. I did a little research online. I started by looking up marriage counselors. Then, I went to looking for a good punching bag, and after that, I started looking for 2 bedroom apartments near my kids’ school. Is this really the way things were going? An overwhelming gloom sat over me and the entire US. My mom sent me a message that she was opening up an SMA (Sealy Mattress Account) and that I should buy all the canned food I could today. I thought my twenties were supposed to be some of the best years of my life.

I always thought Jesse and I had some sort of psychic connection (the song radar love comes into my head every time I think about this) and I always thought when I really needed him to rescue me, he would call or email me or something. I must’ve been wrong about it though because I keep calling out in my most desperate of telepathic communications and I know he knows my email, knows my number, knows everyway to get to me and he doesn't. Therefore, either we have the connection and he chooses to ignore it or we just don't. Daily, I am breaking down all my romantic image of him and the love we used to share. Still, I find nothing is filling those holes. My life is feeling ever emptier.

I came home tonight, barely able to keep my lunch down with the nausea that comes from light and sound sensitivities associated with a migraine. At the door was just what I needed. Halloween is my favorite holiday. For one night, you give endlessly to hundreds of strangers who are dressed up in the most amazing of costumes. They are who they have always wanted to be for just that one night. The streets are safe to roam and neighbors who have never talked can be friends for the first time ever. Along with all this magic also comes a thing called a boo. Its a secret gift, given to someone by an anonymous friend and the friend then passes a boo onto another friend. My boo was just what I needed, a reminder that I have great friends and only 32 days to Halloween. I've already begun planning my boo. Its going to be great!

I filled the evening with mundane chores. Anything I could do to have Ruben see that I was not being lazy. If some dishes were divorce worthy, by golly, I would have them picked up because it wasn’t worth the risk. I made dinner, emptied the washer, set the table, fed everyone, cleared the table, did the dishes, made the kids lunches, wiped down the counters and stove, ran two loads of laundry, showered the kids, got them ready for bed, gave Mateo his medicine for the raging ear infection that he has been torturing us all with and put the kids to bed. I felt guilty about it but I landed on the bed around nine and decided there was no reason to get up. We still went to bed with the sheet crammed between us, like a barrier.

The Heart Break Files, part 6

noreply@blogger.com (Allison) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 17:49:00 +0000

Day 5 – I woke up before 10 this morning. I think I will consider that an achievement, even if the only reason I got up was to answer my mom's phone call. I had 19 new emails but all were junk mail, just another slap in my face that I was not worth having in Jesse’s life. In the process of deleting the new messages, I accidently deleted all the old ones, too. I was furious. I no longer had every note he had written me during our brief re-encounter. Then I realized how much I needed to get rid of that baggage anyway. Even if I didn't think I was ready to.

Does it really count that I am awake if I am just planted in front of the TV for hours of mindless reality TV shows? My guess- not so much.

I find myself thinking, I just want to go home but I am home so, what's missing? I think it may be time to pull out the big guns and do some retail therapy to get me out of my funk. I'm pretty sure that a new pair of shoes and some fun tights are just the way for me to enter the autumn season and could possibly be the link to me moving out of the denial and depression switch off I have been in. Besides, if I find some really hot boots, I'll have no choice but to fling myself into a Nancy Sinatra-esque mood and start my boots on walking all over my Jesse memories until I have successfully accomplished my anger phase and whole heartily face another stage of grief.

I got in the shower, got myself all cleaned up, and ready for an attack on the retail world when I looked outside and saw my husband hard at work. I couldn't go spend money when he was working on the yard. That would terrible. Then, right when I was going to jump in and help, he had to blow it. He came in and shouted at me for not helping and all my hard headed resistance stood up in me and there was no way I wanted to assist him while he was in righteous martyr asshole mode and I told him so. That resulted in him telling me I had best have another place to live in when we sell this place because he sure as hell was not going to live with me again. I assured him I would find a place big enough for just the kids and me. He stormed out and I realized that this kind of behavior is the kind of thing that if I weren't so damn stubborn it would be enough for me to give up all hope and just leave. Too bad I'm a raging Irish girl.

I said, why wait? I started to get the kids ready to leave for a bit – told him I wasn’t sure if we would be back that night and he was furious that I would leave but I kept pointing out that he said he didn’t want to live with me and he kept asking about the kitchen and we went round and round until he lost his temper, he stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. The kids and I were just on the other side. I reached out to the handle, wanting to come in and talk and that’s when it started. We heard a slam, I took a step back, and then there was another as Ruben punched the master bedroom door down and terrified the kids and me. I almost called the police but the phone was in the master bedroom, which is where he was so, instead, I left with the kids and went to my sister’s house to try to calm the kids down. We ate dinner and the kids played with their cousins as I talked it over with my sister. I have a feeling Ms. Stephanie at school is going to be asking me about this one because BOTH the kids still won’t stop talking about it.

I came home around 9, put the kids to bed and Ruben and I talked about how scared I was and how could he jump to not wanting to be together and breaking down a door over some dishes? And he kept asking again about the dishes (I cleaned the kitchen when I got home) but I told him I couldn’t change what happened earlier, all I could do is look for an action plan for the future. What kind of assurance do I have that he wouldn’t do that again? Or worse? He gave no answer. Then I asked what he wanted to do. He asked me. I told him I wanted to work it out but my answer is irrelevant because he obviously holds the reins in our relationship. He said that he was sure we would have another fight. He wanted to try to make it work but he was sure we would have another fight like that in the future and it was probably time to face that we were not meant for one another. I sobbed and he sat down beside me and said, “I love you, you know that, right? I do love you”

“No.” I answered. “I don’t know that! You know I’ve been unsure about us for a long time. How long have you known we weren’t meant for each other?”

“I didn’t say that! I said we many have to face we don’t belong together – why are you crying?”

“I’ve given you 8 years of my life. I have given you my everything! We have two kids and a house and I always looked to the big picture. I was in this forever but you haven’t been.”

“Sometimes, love isn’t enough, Allison. I do love you but I don’t think we were ready for all of this.”

“Maybe you weren’t ready but that doesn’t mean you are supposed to give up!”

“You can’t say you were ready for this”

“I was! I was ready to get married! Ready to have the children we have! Ready to buy a home – obviously not this one, it’s a complete project house and I don’t think either of us could’ve foreseen spending all the time and effort we did on this home only to have the flood and need to start over. It isn’t fair but it is what it is and we just need to deal.”

He was silent and then walked away. I followed into the bedroom, impressed that the door was removed and debris had been cleared. He was in the bathroom, applying Neosporin to his fist and arm. I offered up bandages and he barked for me to go to bed. I felt like my heart had been run over by a train – a train with lots of cars carrying lots of cargo. He came out to the couch and asked me to come to bed. I spent the next 3 hours watching the clock from our queen sized bed, amazed that I could still read the time through the blur of the tears that rolled down my face.