Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Confession: We had a fight over R&R

Yes, you read the title correctly. Believe it or not, R&R was not 2 weeks of complete bliss, but that's the reality of marraige. Isn't it? Anyways, the point of this is that maybe just maybe I won't have to explain my point of view on this to people for yet the 100th time.
So if you remember back to Februaryish I was in a frantic state of cleaning. Mr. B was coming home and I wanted everything to be PERFECT. I succeeded too. The house sparkled and shined. The kids were clean and well groomed. I even managed to find the mostest wonderful new dress to wear to impress him. I was so proud of me.
Insert reality: I only wore my fancy dress twice while he was here and my sparkly clean house was soon covered by the contents of his backpack. Seriously, how did he get so much stuff in there? I was still proud of me though. Until.....
On the way to Florida, Mr. B confessed to me that he was a little weired out by the extreme cleanliness of our house. He even went as far as to say that it all felt fake (btw, fake is pretty much the worst thing you can call me). I was devestated. All I had wanted to do was make him happy and proud of me.
The great thing about have time apart is that time gives you perspective. I know I am about to sound absolutely out of my mind crazy to some of you, but he was right. The reality of the matter is that, in the grand scheme of things, it isn't going to matter if my house sparkles and shines, if I have the perfect outfit, or if every hair is in just the right place when he gets home. What matters to him is that I am still here and that I am as happy to see him as he is to see me.
Yes, Mr B. will be home very soon, and I am very excited. However, I have not purchased a fancy new outfit and I am not frantically shining every surface in my house. The house will be at a normal state of clean. There might be a dirty dish in the sink. There will probably be an unfolded basket of laundry somewhere in the living room. The walls will definitely need washed. And believe it or not, the world will not come to an end. It will still be an awesome day and we will all be happy because we will be together again.
Honestly, I like it better this way. It's alot less stressful.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

And now....A word about fundraisers

My kids have been in school for just barely 2 weeks. Today they brought home their SECOND fundraiser. Yes, I really did just say second. First they brought home the little coupon card things. Then today they brought home the cookie dough fundraiser thing. Really?!?
*This is me hopping up onto my soapbox*
First of all, I want you to know that I completely support the idea of earning extra money for our schools. I will support bake sales, carnivals, and probably even a raffle (eventhough I never win). I  even collect the little box tops for education. But that is where I draw the line.
Why fundraisers are evil:
Somebody comes into my child's classroom and tells them that they are doing a fundraiser for (insert worthy cause here) and tells them why this is such a great cause and how awesome it will be to help people and blah, blah, blah......
Then they hand them an envelope full of brightly colored advertisments and MOST IMPORTANTLY the little sheet that says if they sell one item they will "earn" a 25cent icecream cone and if they sell 1000 they can "earn" a cheap I-pod knock off and every dollar store toy underneath it on the sheet.
By the time my children make it to me I am doomed.
I think it was the "jump rope for heart" fundraiser that pushed me over the edge. Honestly,  the idea of getting a prize for raising money for charity that drives me crazy. Isn't giving to those in need enough anymore? 
So, I made a deal with my kids. If they don't make me sell or buy (insert crazy fundraiser item here), I will take them to the DQ and get a better icecream cone than the one they would have "earned" for selling 1 item.
And rest assured that I will not be asking you to buy a coupon book, cookie dough, wrapping paper, bag of nuts, whatever......However, if you like the girl scout cookies, hit me up the first of the year and I will hook you up. I do have a girl scout.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Sorry, no clever title

I went to my regularly scheduled Dr. appointment this morning. You know they one. They weigh you, measure you, listen to your baby's heart rate, and 15 minutes later they send you home. After the nurse asked me her standard list of questions (the ones they ask every visit to verify that I am not depressed or being domestically abused), she handed me a piece of paper with the date and time for my next appointment. 1500 (3pm if you don't speak army)?!?!?!? Ummmm....not physically possible. That is when I am retrieving my children from school. So as I am explaining to the nurse that unless someone invents teleportation in the next month  then she is going to have to reschedule my appointment it occurs to me
by the time I have my next appointment I SHOULD have a husband again. Whoa!!! Has it really been a year already?