Friday, June 29, 2007

CT's Big, Exciting Week

I've discovered this week that our little CT is one lucky little boy. Mom flew in for a visit on Saturday, so he's been spoiled rotten. We're talking all his favorite foods, new clothes, homemade breakfasts and patience beyond belief. Most weeks the best he can hope for is frozen pizza, tennis shoes with sole separation issues (that kid can walk through shoes!), cold cereal (sometimes with no milk) and constant reprimanding. I do realize that I just made myself out to be a horrible mother, but before you call social services, just note that I do often exaggerate and no mother can compete with the superhero that is Nana. I don't get it. She takes naps and cooks vegetables every day and he still loves her better....not that it's a competition. Well, who could blame him, she is pretty awesome. I mean, look how I turned out. I should note here that I was also fed heartily, received new clothes and managed to snag a few hot breakfasts before work despite the early hour. See, told ya she was a superhero.

CT started Twins baseball camp this week. I was a little concerned that he would feel inadequate since all the other kids most likely played in a league. But he seemed to take it fairly well and came home exhausted every afternoon. The highlight of the camp was he got to meet Rod Carew and Tony Oliva. They even signed some autographs for him. He also received a camp t-shirt, Twins hat, tickets to any game and was interviewed for a newspaper article. While it was by no means cheap, I was really impressed with the instruction he received and he seemed in awe of the whole thing.

On Monday night, Nana and I got up some nerve and went downtown to take CT to his very first rock concert. Actually, I was the only one who was nervous. Super Nana was just along for the party. Anyway, we went to see Bowling for Soup at the Fine Line downtown. I actually love Bowling for Soup and have all their albums, but I was nervous that I might be a bad parent for taking my kid to see a band that curses and tends to talk about sex a little too much. I knew it was an "all ages" show, but I wasn't sure it would really be appropriate for a 10-year-old. Despite a few F-words flung around, the concert was great and CT had a blast. He was rocking out with the crown and singing along with the band. It was definitely a great memory-maker for him. For the record, I wasn't the only one who brought a kid to a punk band concert. So, I may be a bad mother, but I'm not a bad mother alone!

The best part of the week for me was last night. PK and Mom get along fine now, but it hasn't always been that way. I think they've just come to a sort of understanding and can now tolerate small doses of eachother. Last night we all went out to dinner together....still well within the bounds of their strained, yet polite, relationship. After dinner we got into the car to go home....well, some of us did. PK is so used to hearing 3 doors shut and then taking off that he prematurely gunned the gas while Mom still had one foot on the pavement. Yes, he dragged his mother-in-law 3 or 4 feet before he managed to slam on the breaks! OK, I don't enjoy seeing my mother get injured and I was relieved to know that she was just a little sore and was not bleeding. However, the awkward silence int he car and the clumsy apologies from my very Norwegian hubby made me laugh so hard, I nearly peed my pants. For a good 15 minutes the car was quiet except for an occasional nervous laugh and a mumbled "I'm sorry" every once in awhile. Now, I'm sure that both parties know PK did not intentionally run over his mother-in-law. Still, there was the quiet undertone of suspicion throughout the rest of the evening. PK was wondering if she was going to hold this against him for the rest of his life and Mom was wondering if there wasn't some subliminal murderous tendency toward her. It was frickin' hilarious, y'all.

So, CT and Super Nana left this morning. I have 2 weeks with no child and no responsibility....Oh, wait I do still have PK at home to worry about....and that hateful shrew of a cat. So, I guess it won't be much different afterall. Still, I'll miss the little freckle face.

Here's the cat plotting to overthrow the household while we're one man down. She's not cute and cuddly.
She's angry, bitter and she's not gonna take it anymore!

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Monday, June 18, 2007

Today's Favorite Quote

"It is better to deserve honors and not have them than to have them and not to deserve them. "
-Mark Twain

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Tuesday, June 12, 2007

It's Your Fault I'm Sick!

Thursday night PK and I watched a very interesting special on t.v. regarding the black plague that struck Europe in the 17th century. It was all about discovering why some people survived even though they were repeatedly exposed to the disease.

On Friday, I got to work to immediately was struck by a 45-minute sneezing fit (not really that unusual by itself. I am a naturally sneezy person). By Friday afternoon my eyes were tired and weepy. When I mentioned to PK that evening that I wasn't feeling well, he responded "You do not have the plague!" OK, I fully acknowledge that there have been times that my health has been overly influenced by the mere suggestion of infection. However, I have never mistaken a seasonal allergy attack for the plague. So, in deference to his intimate knowledge of my past mysterious medical conditions and the likeliness that he may have correctly assumed that I was just exhibiting symptoms I had just seen on t.v., I did not immediately snap his arm off and beat his head with it when he made such a idiotic, snide comment to an obviously stricken woman. Instead I simply offered that perhaps it would not be wise for me to help mow the church lawn on the following Saturday given my recent allergic reactions. PK blew into a tirade about how I'm always sick and I never help....blah, blah, blah. Of course he never conceded that mowing the church lawn is his commitment and that I always do a majority of it because it so happens that I like to mow. Some are called to preach and others are called to mow. I happen to be one of the latter. Finally, his rant concluded with the notion that if we both mowed together we'd get done in half the time and he'd still have plenty of time to work on the deck. Now, how can any wife longing for a drawn-out project to finally come to completion argue with that?

So, PK woke me up at 7:30 on a Saturday to go with him to mow. The church is quite large and usually takes one person about 8 hours to mow (including an hour off for lunch). Immediately upon arriving at the church, PK discovered that a tire had gone flat (ok, he noticed it on Friday night and actually went to the store to buy a new tire, but then didn't fix it because he "thought the old one would hold out"). So I began mowing while he worked to change the tire. About 6 hours later, PK finally finished fixing the tire and mowed small square the size of a postage stamp before calling it quits and allowing me to finish the job while he put his mower on the truck. By the time I got off my mower, my hair was more grass than hair, tears were streaming down my face and snot literally pouring out of my nostrils (not a pretty picture, huh?). He took one look at me and said "uh-oh".

Uh-oh is right, y'all. I was downright, full-on sick. I remained in my snotty state until this morning when I awoke feeling a little more human. Needless to say it was a really, really crappy weekend and I had to take a sick day on Monday. Not only that, since we spent the whole day at the church, PK got absolutely no work done on the deck at all despite my "helping". So my agony is all for nought. Oh sure the church lawn is immaculate, but at what cost? Several boxes of tissues and a package of Benadryl later....and I still have no deck on which to lounge my sickly body. I only tell you this sad story so that you will not also succumb to this trickery. It may not be the black plague, but this curse of an inconsiderate husband ravages many.

And, yes, PK, it is YOUR FAULT that I am sick! You can't see it, but I'm sticking my tongue out at you!

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Monday, June 04, 2007

25 Miles?...No Sweat

OK, there was sweat. A lot of really stinky sweat in addition to a lot of whining and even a few tears. But I made it. I rode 25 miles on my bike. Together, PK and I raised about $350 for the Tour de Cure. I climbed mountains (I scoff at those who call them hills) and dodged downtown traffic to finish the event in 2 hours 40 minutes. Every time I thought I wouldn't make it (and there were quite a few of those times), I just thought of Mom. I said to myself, "Self, if Mom can stick herself a dozen times a day for 20 years just to survive, then you can make it a few more miles." And I did.... I made it 24 more miles, to be exact.

Yes, I'm a bit saddle sore and my muscles are achy, but I did it and I didn't think I could. I thank you all for your support and prayers. Now, for anyone who is interested, I have a nice rarely used bike for sale. I believe I've hung up my helmet for good this time. OK, maybe I should wait just few days before I discard my trusty steed. I mean we have been through a lot together....well, at least a little anyway. It's just that when I see it sitting there in the garage all peaceful and relaxed against the lawn mower, I want to kick it....hard and maybe hurl a few things at it. It's not the bike I detest....I think it's exercise as a whole that really irks me. I'm one of those people who really, really hates physical activity. I thought I good cause would make it more interesting for me...and it did. But now that it's over, I'm back to loathing that hell on two wheels more than ever. I think I'm one of those people who hates doing things that I have to do. Perhaps if exercise wasn't good for me or if I didn't have to do it in order to remain below 300 pounds, I would actually enjoy a nice run through the park...or a good aerobics video. But alas the couch potato is a dieing breed (literally) and I must exercise if only for self-preservation. So my bike sits there waiting for me to hop on again....or to kick it, whichever comes first. I think I'll give myself a week or two off....maybe join the ping pong league at work (that's exercise, right?).

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