you me and five bucks

Fab Five: Birthday Wishes

2009-11-09T16:47:00.000-08:00

Little plans for the big day:

1) Pancakes in bed. I love me some pancakes. Aunt Jemima only. Silver dollar size.

2) Me time. I'm taking myself on a date to see Coco Before Chanel.

3) Daydream and plan. It's kind of a milestone birthday. And though I pride myself on my cynicism and facetiousness, I do partake of high cheese factor activities now and then.

4) Sushi dinner with the hubby and kids.

5) Baskin Robbins ice cream cake. White cake, pralines and cream ice cream.

I made sure Steve got the memo.

Me: Is it lame that I'm telling you exactly what I want on my birthday?

Him: Nope, makes my job easier!

Me: That's what I thought.

Daddy Daycare

2009-11-05T15:01:00.000-08:00

Seriously? You couldn't take her other shoe off?

Hint, Hint

2009-11-04T13:39:00.000-08:00

Just what exactly are you getting at, Weight Watchers? That I'd eat BOTH quesadillas if you didn't explicitly instruct me not to?

Yeah, you're right.

Decade

2009-11-03T16:38:00.000-08:00

2 years as BFF's + 6 years as BF/GF + 2 years as hubby and wife = 10 of the happiest years of my life.

That Funny Honey of Mine

2009-11-02T17:14:00.001-08:00

The other day Steve and I were lounging on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV. He stopped at some guy movie.

Him: This is such a good movie!

Me: Dude, how many times are you gonna watch this movie?

Him: No, fool, you're getting mixed up with 300. This is Gladiator.

Me: Oh. Still boring.

Him: There's Russell Crowe. He's a good guy. His name is Something-Maximus.

Me: Gluteus Maximus?

Him (in all seriousness): Yeah, I think so.

Me: Hahahaha!

Him: What?

Me: Gluteus maximus means "butt," you fool.

Like a scene straight out of Beavis and Butt-Head Get Married.

Same Ol', Same Ol'

2009-10-21T09:24:00.000-07:00

I set a reminder on my TV for Blues Clues.

For the episode where Steve leaves for college, which I never seen.

Except Lily was asleep.

And my teenage son was like, "Did you just set a reminder for Blues Clues? For yourself?"

What? I needed closure. I never accepted Joe.

And when Steve said goodbye, I got a little teary-eyed.

Yeah, I've been gone a month, but the crazy is pretty much the same 'round here.

Anti-Mom Antic #11 (Daddy Edition)

2009-09-24T21:13:00.000-07:00

For a while we stopped using bibs for Bugaboo. She wasn't getting all that messy, and she would always pull them off anyway. But over the past couple of months she started needing at least three costume changes a day because of her less than ideal eating habits. As in, rubbing food in her eyes, through her hair, in her ears. Pouring drinks down her shirt and into her lap...anywhere but in her mouth. So we bought some bibs that go over her head like a shirt so she can't pull them off. They work really well. When I remember to wash them. And when I forget? I come home to this...

I better not forget to buy diapers or I'm afraid what office supplies Daddy might resort to next.

She Who Shall Not Be Named

2009-09-20T00:13:00.000-07:00

Been quite busy. At the beck and call of a certain someone. Not naming any names or anything. But she's the cute one with the pigtails. (Baby's first pigtails!)

Outside In

2009-09-09T22:55:00.000-07:00

This morning, while at the hospital waiting for the doctor, I noticed these cool ceiling panels. I couldn't stop gazing at them. All around me doctors and nurses were bustling around, machines were beeping, life was buzzing. My mind was filled with things to do, places to go, and people to see. But those ceiling panels brought a little of the peacefulness of outside, inside. It felt like the good ol' days when I used to lay on the grass under a shady tree and just chill out. It was nice while it lasted cuz life is a bit more crazy than usual these days.

I need those panels for my house and office for the days when I just can't get away.

Super Woman

2009-09-02T21:01:00.001-07:00

I can't remember if I mentioned here before how my brother introduced Steve and I to Prison Break, and how we immediately got hooked. How we would watch four episodes a night, and how we finished four seasons in like two weeks or something crazy like that. And it was no secret that a big draw for me was Wentworth Miller, a man so very handsome that he booted Zac Efron from the number one spot in my heart real quick like. I mean, number one imaginary boyfriend spot in my heart, since my hubby has the real world number one spot of course.

My brother has since introduced us to Heroes. Yes, we know we're late jumping on the bandwagon. The guy at Blockbuster even chastised us - "You're barely starting now?" - when we went to rent the first DVD. I actually did try to watch the very first episode when the series premiered way back when, but I stopped watching at the first sight of a chopped off head. I'm a scaredy cat, remember? But Steve really wanted me to start watching the DVDs with him, so I just cover my eyes a lot and he tells me when it's safe to open them. Can I just say how much I love Hiro? He is the most adorable thing ever.

Me: So, of all the Heroes, what power would you want?

Steve: Um...flying! How 'bout you?

Me: I don't know. At first I thought that one chic's power of persuasion. But then I thought, who do I need to persuade that badly?

Steve: True dat.

Me: I definitely don't want Niki's split personality. What kind of power is that anyway?

Steve: You already have that power, babe.

Touché.

Scaredy Cat

2009-08-31T15:50:00.000-07:00

So, I had an experience at the dentist on Saturday.

Let me just preface this story by admitting up front that I'm a scaredy cat. I know this. I'm scared of the typical stuff like bugs and mice, of the dark and of scary night time noises. I cover my eyes and mute the volume if even just the preview for a scary movie pops up on TV, and my legs tingle with fear whenever I step foot on a balcony or drive across an overpass. We all have our little fears, right?

I do, however, have a not so little phobia of needles. This fear is pretty legit since I usually get stabbed no less than three times for simple blood tests because they can never find my veins. The nurses like to joke, "Do you have any veins in there?" Every single time. While they dig the needle around in my arm. Hardy har har. When I went into labor I was retaining water like a mo fo and then they really couldn't find my veins, so they had to poke me up and down my arms, hands, and even my feet! Finally they had to use one of the main veins in my wrist, which is an uncommon and painful procedure, so they had to stick me with one needle to numb the pain of the second needle!

Still, it's not unusual to be scared of needles. But combine my fear of needles with my claustrophobia? That's when I get street rat crazy, for real.

I'm crazy claustrophobic. Crazy like I think I'm going to suffocate even if I just have a stuffy nose. Crazy like, while flying back from my honeymoon in Hawaii, all I kept thinking was, "I can't breathe. I can't breathe! There's not enough air in here for all of us! Every one's breathing up all the air!" and "Are the flight attendants trained to handle someone who is about to freak the eff out? Cuz I don't think they're ready for me."

Fear of needles plus fear of suffocation equals irrational fear of the dentist. I normally avoid the dentist at all costs unless I'm literally crippled with pain, and even then I've been known to take Valium before my appointments so I can calm the eff down. That kind of irrational. One time I had a deep cleaning done and on my way out the receptionist asked me, "So, how'd it go?" To her surprise, tears started rolling down my cheeks. A bit dramatic, no? Welcome to Steve's world.

So, I had to get some fillings done on Saturday. I was cool in the days leading up to my appointment, and on the drive over that morning, and even as they sat me in the chair. But as soon as they started applying the topical cream to numb my mouth, my brain started shouting, "Needle coming! Needle coming! Mayday!" Admittedly, the actual pain of the needle is practically nothing. But the thought of the needle is what gets me every time. So, as the dentist started poking around, I tried to distract myself. Tried to think of something else, anything else. But all I could think was, "Needle. Long, sharp needle. Long, sharp needle piercing my gums." And then water from the air/water thingy kept pooling up a little in my throat, making me feel like I was drowning. Suffocating! Nevermind that I could still breathe perfectly well through my nose. And that's when my arms started tingling, a sure sign that things were about to get ugly. But just as it was getting down to T-minus two seconds to street rat crazy, it was all over.

On my way home, Steve texted me, "How'd it go?" Then a split second later, "Don't cry."

I Even Embarrass Myself Sometimes

2009-08-27T23:03:00.000-07:00

I called Steve while on my way to meet him for Bugaboo's doctor appointment.

Me: Where are you?

Him: Still at home, getting ready to go.

Me: Oh good! I forgot her immunization card.

Him: Good thing I didn't leave yet. Where is it?

Me: It's either in the safe or in my Troy Bolton suitcase.

In my defense, it was a gift.

Did I Do That?

2009-08-26T21:38:00.000-07:00

So the other day I sent an email to my boss. When she responded, I scrolled down through the email thread to refresh my memory on a few points, when I saw a link to my other blog randomly sitting amidst the back and forth replies. My mind screamed out WTF?! and I had a mini panic attack.

How did that get on there?? Oh my gosh, please tell me she didn't notice it. Tell me she didn't notice it! She didn't notice it. She would have mentioned something, right? She totally didn't notice it.

I convinced myself that she didn't notice the link, and then I promptly forgot about all about it.

You have an inkling where this is headed, don't you?

So I was at a work thing, chatting with her about this and that.

Boss Lady: So, I read your blog.

Blink. Blink blink.

Cue nervous laughter.

Me: You did?

Boss Lady: Yeah, I thought you were trying to show me something. I thought you were linking to something having to do with your presentation.

And cue guilty rambling.

Me: Oh my gosh no I don't know how that got there it wasn't in the sent message but then I saw it in your response and I was like "how did that get there" and I have no idea how that got there but I totally didn't mean to send that link to you.

Boss Lady: Well, I read through some of it...

Me: Shoot me now.

Boss Lady: What?

Me: What? Oh, nothing.

Boss Lady: Anyway, I'm totally with you.

Me: You are?

Bossy Lady: Right there with you.

Me: Really? Cuz I feel like you're totally gonna fire me. Since that blog is about having a fickle faith. And I work at your Catholic school. And I'm your Religious Activities Coordinator. I would totally fire me.

Except I didn't actually say that last part because I'm not trying to give her any ideas. Also, I don't think I deserve to be fired. Secretly and unfairly judged perhaps, but not fired.

Lesson of the day: anything you write on the internet can and will be read by the very person you hope doesn't read it. I wonder how/if that will affect what I write going forward.

Women's Intuition

2009-08-25T20:57:00.000-07:00

So the other day during my weekly visit to Target - my most favorite place in the whole world, my happy place - I came across the new Hollywood Intuition by Jaye Hersh section and immediately started salivating. High fashion for low income. Yes please!

The bags were cute, the necklaces were stylish, I loved the scarves...but the studded bracelets? I HAD to have them. They were sold out, naturally. I could only gaze longingly at a picture of them hanging on the wall. I may or may not have went searching for them at one or two or three other Targets. I might have called around harassing Target employees with "please check the racks" and "did you look in the stock room?" and "but the website says you have some in stock!" It's possible that I got so desperate that I ended up buying the designer version of the bracelet, thus defeating the whole purpose of "designer style at guilt-free prices."

Or something like that.

Anti-Mom Antic #10

2009-08-24T14:28:00.000-07:00

So Bugaboo has been eating mushy baby food for over six months now and she's so over it. Been there, done that. Now she only wants food she can actually sink her teeth into. However, for some strange reason she doesn't want anything to do with the little Gerber jars of diced carrots or pre-packaged meals for toddlers. And since four out of the literally five meals I cook for the boys are not appropriate for her wee baby palate, it wasn't looking good for me. I may have mentioned once or fifty times how I loathe cooking. So, faced with the prospect of having to cook not one, but TWO meals each night, I seriously contemplated feeding her Cheerios and bananas until she was ready for steak. But in the end I sucked it up and thought to myself, WWMomsD?

I bought some raw veggies, which is an experience in and of itself as the only veggies my family is used to is of the canned and/or frozen variety. Then I went online to learn how to prepare them. Yes, Google teaches me how to steam veggies and hard boil eggs. And since I don't even have the equipment to bake a cake much less for stove top steaming, and since microwaving was the easiest method resulting in the least dishes, I went the microwave route.

I threw a few carrot sticks in a bowl, added a dash of water, covered with plastic wrap, and popped it in the microwave. Set for five minutes. It didn't take long for sizzling sounds to start up. I wasn't concerned. Then I heard some popping. And when I finally rushed over to the microwave, I saw a flame AND my life flash before my eyes! Fortunately for me and any innocent bystanders in the vicinity, the flame extinguished as soon as I turned off the microwave. But the bowl and the carrots were goners.

Since Bugaboo still had to eat, I tried again. But, I kid you not, I was shaking in my boots the whole time. This time I heated them up in thirty second intervals while peeking out from behind the fridge in case they burst out in flames again. But the carrots were steamed to perfection and no (additional) bowls or people were harmed in the process.

And Bugaboo was none the wiser.

Midlife Crisis?

2009-08-17T11:02:00.000-07:00

The other night my niece and I decided to make friendship bracelets. I used to be a friendship-bracelet-making-fool back in the day. But that was like twenty years ago, and my mind is failing me in my old age, so we had to get a kit complete with directions and little wheels and stuff. Wheels? In my day we used to just loop the string through a safety pin, pin it to our acid washed jeans right above the knee, and start knotting away. But to prove to my niece how hip I was, I tried it the new school way.

Dude, after spending like half an hour measuring out our string, attaching it to the wheel according to the pattern, and reading the instructions thrice over, we were so over it. But we sucked it up and worked it out. Unfortunately, because I decided I wanted to be all emo and have an all-black friendship bracelet, it started looking more like a plain black rope. Or shoelace. It was not cute. Then I was really over it.

So we took it back to the old school. My memory was still sketchy but I just did a quick YouTube search on "how to make friendship bracelets" and we were good to go. I was pretty happy with how it was coming along, until...

Not too shabby, but what's that sticking out the side?

Doh! I ran out of string before I could finish the bracelet.

Bro: That's your friendship bracelet? Looks more like an enemy bracelet.

Jerk.

So, I started a new bracelet and cut the string twice as long. I worked on that thing in the car on the way to the beach, on the couch while watching Secret Life of Bees, in the chair at the dentist's office. What am I? Ten? For some reason I was determined to have me a friendship bracelet! Maybe I'm having a midlife crisis.

P.S. I got a new friendship bracelet today. From an actual friend! She's my age. And our kids are totally embarrassed by us.

P.P.S. I'm totally having a friendship-bracelet-making party with my nieces this weekend. For real. Don't be jealous.

First Things First

2009-08-13T10:43:00.000-07:00

Posting has been light over the past week. Partly due to other writing and home projects. But mostly because I've been spending a lot of time hanging with the family...

...and YM5-ing with the girls...

...and celebrating with friends...

...and enjoying Bugaboo's firsts.

Although my natural tendency is to feel guilty for neglecting my writing for a few days, I'm forcing myself to get over it. After all, at the end of the day these moments with loved ones are what matter most.

How Twitter Ruined My Reputation

2009-08-10T23:14:00.000-07:00

Sunday was my Godson's baptism. I was running a little behind schedule, but I arrived right on time, which, for me, is actually early. I ran up to the church and joined the others who were about to go inside. I saw my Godson's dad first.

The Dad: Cutting it a little close, aren't you?

Me: Hehe.

The Dad: Did you have fun at the garage sales?

Me, confused: Uh, yeah.

The Dad, to our friend: She was bargain hunting at garage sales on her way here.

Me: Wait, what? No! No, that was yesterday!

The Dad: Don't lie, I read it on Twitter. You tweeted that you were at a garage sale an hour ago.

Me: What?! No! I posted that yesterday.

Hubby: Oh yeah, I saw that too. It just posted an hour ago.

Me: But I went yesterday! Babe, tell them that was yesterday!

Hubby: It was yesterday.

Me: Oh my gosh, you guys must have thought I was the worst Godparent ever!

The Dad: Pshh, yeah! All stopping by garage sales on the way over...

Me:...yeah, all shopping for a baptism gift.

It was the running joke at my expense all. day. long. Thanks, Twitter.

Duck and Cover

2009-08-06T10:11:00.000-07:00

Bugaboo sleeps in a crib in our bedroom. She goes to bed about 8pm and she's usually fast asleep by the time we go to bed a few hours later. Sometimes she'll stir when we have to go to the bedroom for something, or sometimes she'll wake up when we're settling into bed. If she thinks we're sleeping or if she doesn't see us sneaking in or out, she'll fall back asleep pretty easily. But if she does she see us and we're awake, it's over. She'll cry and whine and pick up her blanky with outstretched arms expecting to be picked up. That's why you'll often catch us either feigning sleep or hitting the deck.

This picture is not staged. This is how we do, for real. I keep my phone on my nightstand and was able to snap a pic right quick. The bright ass flash probably didn't help Steve's mission, but whatevs.

Daydreaming

2009-08-04T10:48:00.000-07:00

When Fabulosity first came out, I didn't give it a second thought. I had heard of Kimora Lee Simmons, of course, but only thought of her as Russell Simmon's trophy wife. Then one day I accidentally watched an episode of her reality show, Life in the Fab Lane. I was too lazy to change the channel or something, I don't know. But I kept watching. I started tuning in. I found myself becoming a fan.

Say what you will about her - she's over the top, she's obnoxious, etc. - but she's not any body's trophy wife. I became addicted to her show because it showed how strong and independent she is. How ambitious she is. And, yes, how FABULOUS she lives her life. She does her own thang. She makes her own money. Her hustle inspired me. So I put her book on my birthday wish list last November and my son bought it for me.

Due to a large stack of books on my nightstand waiting to be read, I just started reading Fabulosity this week. I'm barely on the second chapter and I already love it. Yeah, it's a little bit self-help-motivational-speaker-ish which I know is not every one's cup of tea, but I like how it's a little ghetto fabulous to offset the cheese factor. I originally thought this book was going to be about fashion and appearances, and there is some of that in there. But, what I've read so far seems to be more about chasing dreams.

A quote from the book:

"Letting the mind see clearly what the heart really wants often prompts the right choices and manifests the right outcome. Take some time and play a few scenes in your head of the life you want - the details are what gives it shape."

I am a huge believer in dreaming big. I love imagining my dreams coming true. And visualizing them in detail makes them feel more real, more obtainable. I see it all so clearly. It's only a matter of time before they're a reality.

So pick up this book and get your dreams on, ya'll.

Anti-Mom Antic #9

2009-08-03T10:33:00.000-07:00

So, in an effort to save a little bit of cash money, we decided we would plan our own party for Lily's first birthday instead of going to Chuck E. Cheese or some place like that. This would be mistake #1. Hello? Don't I read my own blog? I am the Anti-Mom. I have no business trying to plan a party. At the end of the day, I guess it turned out alright. But a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and curse words went into it. And Bugaboo? She didn't really have a clue what was going on. In fact, everyone had a pretty good time at Lily's Luau...except Lily. She didn't particularly enjoy Mommy and Daddy passing her around from stranger to stranger. She didn't appreciate us trying to dip her in cold ass water to play with the other kids in the water playground. We scared the crap out of her during the birthday song. Halfway through the party she was SO over it.

Mistake #2 would be trying to bake the cake myself. Um, hello? Do I even have the supplies to do so? That would be a big fat NO. As evidenced by the non non-stick pans I used to bake the cake...

...and the cheese knife and rice spatula I used to spread the frosting.

Oh, and did I mention those non non-stick pans weren't the same size?

Steve said, "Just play it off like it's supposed to be a tiered cake. Like you did it on purpose."

Did I do this on purpose too? Exactly what letter is that supposed to be again?

Steve said it looked like a stick figure missing one arm.

Despite all this, the finished product wasn't that bad - if you stood five feet away and kind of squinted your eyes. Once the deed was done and I had wiped the sweat and frosting from my face, I was about to pat myself on the back when I realized...

I put the mutha effing cake on a ghetto ass cookie sheet! Why oh why hadn't I thought to at least lay some pretty doilies over it? But I wasn't about to try and move the cake to another, more presentable dish and risk having it fall or whathaveyou. So the cake got revealed as is on party day, in all its ghetto fabulous glory.

At one point during the whole baking biznazz, after sending my friend a dozen texts asking for help, she texted back, "Wait...isn't this just a boxed cake?" Um, yeah.

That's why next year it's all about Chuck E. Cheese and Baskin Robins ice cream cake. For real. I better start saving now.

It's Your Birthday and I'll Cry If I Want To

2009-07-30T10:05:00.000-07:00

Happy 1st Birthday, Bugaboo!

Last week, while going over the checklist for your birthday party, Daddy and I were talking about how we couldn't believe you were turning one year old already. At one point during our conversation Daddy looked over at me and asked, "Are you crying?" I couldn't help it. Every time I think of you turning one, my eyes start stinging with tears. My little baby is becoming a little girl.

You were born a year ago today, though it seems like just yesterday or last week or something. You were five weeks early and we so weren't ready. That was the first sign of how you were going to turn our world upside down. I still remember every moment so vividly, from the sensation of you leaving my body, to me simultaneously laughing and crying my eyes out the moment I first laid eyes on you. Then you were taken away from me and admitted to the NICU, and the following two weeks were the hardest of my life. During your first days in the world I couldn't hold you, cuddle you, kiss you. I could only touch you through the openings of the incubator. My heart broke with every moment that was stolen from us.

Even in those early days, every single NICU nurse described you as feisty. You often screamed when we weren't by your side and more than once you pulled your feeding tube right out of your nose. When we finally got you home, you continued to prove how feisty you were. I think you wanted the whole world know how unhappy you were to be evicted from the womb so early. We got the message loud and clear. Those first couple of months were so, so tough. But each time we neared the breaking point, your smile or your touch or even just the smell of your neck or the sight of your tiny toes gave us the strength to face one more day. We just took it one day at a time. And even when you eventually got used to life outside the womb, you continued to turn our world upside down.

I like to write about your crazy ass on my website. One day when you're older you might read everything I've written, and you might wonder why it seems like I'm always putting you on blast. I admit, sometimes it seems like I'm always complaining. What can I say? I like to vent. I like to reach out and connect with other parents who can relate to how hard parenthood is. But really? That's only one small fraction of the whole story. The bigger picture - the greatest way you've turned my world upside down - is how you've made me fall head over heels in love with you.

Sure you cry a lot. But there's this fake cry you do, where only one side of your face cries with one eye shut and the other wide open, that turns me into a puddle of mush every single time. Sure you're clingy. But there's no better feeling in the world than of your tiny arms wrapped tightly around my neck, your little head resting on my shoulder, hearing your frantic cries of "MA MA MA MA MA MA!!!!" because you only want Mama. Sure you have a bad temper. Which you got from your Mama. But you're also funny as hell. You have a larger than life personality. And you're very generous with the slobbery kisses you plant on me every morning. I'd say you are a pretty good mix of sweet and sour.

So when you're older and you notice I always busted you out on my website, also notice how 99.5% of what I write is about you. You're my heart, angel cakes. So what if you're crazy like your Mama? Normal is boring. I wouldn't change you for the world. Happy 1st Birthday to my crazy ass Bugaboo. You've come a long way, baby.

Relapse

2009-07-28T10:39:00.000-07:00

I've been known to be a very jealous person. But having a good, trustworthy guy like Steve for a husband has chilled me out considerably. I'm not saying that I won't thrown down if another girl tries to mess with my man, but it just hasn't been an issue for me for a while now.

Not only is Steve trustworthy, but I just don't got time to be jealous much anymore. It takes so much work! Do you know how draining it is to conjure up empty accusations and fabricated affairs? To search through countless emails and texts? And now with the constant changing of diapers and washing of spit up and drool off my clothes and body parts, I just don't have it in me anymore. The most I'll attempt these days is an occasional half-hearted "Keep your eyes to yourself!"

But I had a little relapse the other night.

We were out bowling with some friends, and he was off talking to some peeps while I was a few feet away talking to some other peeps. At one point I happened to look over and notice a trio of girls a few feet away. I was in the middle of telling a couple of the guys to go bust a move on those girls when I noticed one of them checking out MY guy. Oh hells to the no! Suddenly I'm practically pushing my guy friends in the girls' direction, offering them up as a sacrifice in exchange for my hubby. And just as suddenly I'm at Steve's side, claiming what's mine. Recognize, beyotches!

We left a few minutes later, and Steve was none the wiser. He had no idea that some girl was checking him out, and no idea that I was pimping out our friends to distract those girls from him. And unbeknownst to him, for the next couple of days I was shaking in my boots. It was not a good feeling. It sucked to visit that jealous, insecure place again. But also? It made me look at him with refreshed eyes. It reminded me what a catch Steve is. Reminded me that he's not just my babydaddy, he's my husband first and foremost. He's the guy I chased for 2 1/2 years. The guy I couldn't believe I was lucky enough to catch and marry and start a family with.

Although it sucked to feel that overpowering insecurity again, I realized a little dose of jealousy might be good for a relationship. It reminds you to appreciate what you got.

But don't get it twisted, I'll still throw down if another girl tries to mess with my man.

We All Scream for Ice Cream

2009-07-27T11:12:00.000-07:00

Steve and I were in the kitchen getting dinner ready, when we hear the ice cream truck jingle.

Me: Ice cream man!

Steve: Ooo! You want ice cream?

Me: Really? Yeah!

Steve: Ok!

He runs to get his wallet.

Me: Hurry! We're going to miss it!

Bro: What are you guys doing?

Steve: Trying to catch the ice cream man.

Bro: Oh my gosh, you guys are such dorks.

Steve: Oh no, I don't have any cash!

Bro: Hmmm...I want ice cream. I have some cash!

He runs to get cash.

Me: Hurry! He's driving by!

I swear the ice cream man must have heard all the commotion all the way from the street because he started slowing down in front of the house. So I start shouting out the door.

Me: Wait! Wait! We're getting money.

Steve, Bro, and Teenager run past me, out the door, and up to the truck.

Four grown ass people. What are we? Ten-year-olds? I can only imagine what the ice cream man was thinking.

A Nagging Feeling

2009-07-22T11:07:00.000-07:00

I hate it when women - specifically wives - are stereotyped as being nags. The ol' ball and chain. Never stop talking. Never stop nit-picking. And the husbands? They tune us out. Probably thinking about nudie magazines like Al Bundy. Or donuts like Homer Simpson. For how much they're not listening to us, we might as well be speaking gibberish like the adults in Charlie Brown's world. Silly stereotype, right? Well that's the thing about stereotypes. Just like cheesy cliches, they became stereotypes for a reason. There's some truth in there.

I noticed that I've been nagging like crazy lately. Nagging him about anything and everything: he's not helping me in the yard, he's not taking care of Bugaboo right, he's hasn't romanced me in a long time, he's on his iPhone too much...and on and on. I'm annoying, I know. I hear my complaining. I know I sound like a broken record. But I can't seem to stop. And I can't read his mind, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's tuning me out and daydreaming about nudie magazines and donuts. But I still can't stop.

And this right here is the age-old conundrum: if I stop nagging, how will he hear me?

I read somewhere that women nag because they just want to be heard. For reals. I SO feel that. Because, for me at least, nagging doesn't start as nagging. It starts out with a simple request. Something like, "Babe, can you please call about getting the car fixed?" He says of course he will! But a week later, "Babe, did you call about the car?" He forgot. He'll do it today. Another week passes, "Babe! The car?!" He called! But there was no answer. And he forgot to call back. "Forget it! I'll just do it myself!" When this exchange happens one too many times, it goes to the next level. Did you do this? Did you do that? You're going to forget. Write it down. Are you writing it down? And when that doesn't work, the earrings come off and the gloves come out. Are you even listening to me?! Why do I have to do everything around here?!

I also read somewhere that the quickest way to get a man to stop listening is to start nagging. I get that. And I really don't want to be a nag. I don't want to be that girl. But I start nagging when I feel like he's not listening to me in the first place. So I think that maybe he'll listen to me if I get louder, more aggressive, all up in his face. Thing is, that's not working either.

When they don't listen to us, we nag. When we nag, they don't listen to us. How do you break the cycle?