I did it!!
Please remind me next November to never, ever do that again.
Also? Please feel free to shower me with gratuitous congratulatory comments. I like that kind of shit.
Today I was catching up with my reader, and since it’s Sunday, the weekly addition to PostSecrets was there waiting for me. It happens on occasion that a secret will appear that is infertility or miscarriage related that seems to always strike a chord of commiseration with me. Sadly, today, there was another one that was related to secondary infertility, something I know all TOO well.
This one infuriates me almost beyond words.
Thank goodness he’s at peace with his secret; with his life-altering decision. But obviously his wife will be forever altered negatively as it will be her that moves forward in life believing herself to be the failure in their quest to expand their family.
This husband is a nutless wonder, both literally and figuratively. “…getting it regularly…” is where his priority lies while every CD1 his wife probably quietly sobs in the bathroom out of earshot of their only child and wonders why god has punished her.
I hope she ends up in an affair and gets pregnant.
And for anyone who thinks as a couple’s infertility testing is expensive? Might I recommend a semen analysis (SA), which can cost anywhere between $100 – 200. Ironically, the least expensive diagnostic testing when it comes to infertility is the testing available to men. Maybe someday soon, the wife in this relationship will realize this.
Quick! Sparring Partner just drove into town to get me my mocha so I’m going to get in a quickee
(teehee, I said quickie!)
Trying to brine the 21# turkey that was in the freezer for the past year. Even though it was transferred tot he fridge 4 days ago, the giblets (aka. the neck!) were still frozen inside. It could be a disaster, but it doesn’t matter. Saturday and all is open. We can order a delivery ppizza if all else fails.
Sorry for the grammatical errors. no time to fix or alter since he’ll rip me a new one if he catches me. NaBloPoMo be damned!
I swear there was something else I wante dot tell you but now I can’t remember….only a few more of these damn posts left for November and then I swear I’m going to take 6 months off. I don’t know why I do them since I know most of the posts suck.I’d ask for your forgiveness except obviously you forgave me suckiness ages ago or else you would keep coming back.
Wish us luck that the turkey doesn’t explode like in the scene from that movie with Chevy Chase…not Monty Python’s Christmas…jeus what the fuck was it called?! No time to google gotta go bai!!
I got up at 5:30 this morning, Black Friday, because I had to work. I didn’t mind, really, because I don’t believe being able to buy a DVD at $1.99 is worth the fighting and the pushing and the air of Bitch permeating the air. By the time I pulled up to the office, the local news was running. Police had been called to a fight over line-positioning at the local home improvement store as well as to break up a fight in the toy aisle at the Crazy Loving Wally World, in which there was supposedly an arrest as a result.
How would you like to make that phone call? “Honey, could you please bail me out? Bail is $200…BUT I SAVED $5.00 ON SUZIE’S DOLL HOUSE! *brief pause* Whadya mean this is the last Black Friday for me?! I will SO cut you when I get home!!”
When I got off work sometime after 2:00, I did venture into the local Tarjay. I think it’s fun to be OVERLY polite as I try to manipulate the too narrow aisles with my empty cart. “Pardon me, please. May I get by?” “Excuse me…I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bump you.” “Sorry to bother you, but do you see another whateverthatwas on that shelf by you?”
My cheery smile and charming disposition is probably like a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade for those shoppers who had already been up for 12 hours. Frankly, I also like to dispel the current belief that civility has died. It wasn’t too long ago that I saw a news story on how people have forgotten how to say please and thank you and especially you’re welcome. We have become more rude, more selfish with our smiles; but even I can sometimes flash a toothy smile. And if *I* can, you really have no excuse, now do you?
I don’t have anything profound to add to whatever everyone else has or will post today. I just want you to all have a lovely day whether you will be chillin’ with your loved ones and watching the parade; wearing your fat pants and eating more than you have in one sitting then you have all month; or prepping your comfy shoes and going to bed at 5:00 p.m. in order to get up at 2:00 a.m. for Black Friday (and if that’s you? You are an idiot.).
There’s a woman who is from Belgium that is part of this temp group I’m with.
Preggo asked Belgium, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
Belgium replies, “I don’t have plans; it’s not something I celebrate”.
“Why not?” asks Preggo.
“Because it’s an American holiday.”
“Huh. You learn something new everyday, don’t you?”
By the way, Preggo is taking a year off from being a teacher while she completes her gestation.
What does it say about me, that I am this idiot’s equal?
If you are traveling by car this weekend, or you have friends and family hitting the roads, please share this.
As I mentioned yesterday, I was a little (lot) miffed at Sparring Partner’s friends for having the T&A discussions in front of not only my soon-to-be nine-year old, but there are other kids at the track as well. Later, after Doodicus had gone to bed I asked Sparring Partner what he thought of that. He said,
That’s not something I’d thought I have to talk about this soon.
And I nearly kicked him in the shin. He never “talked” to him about it. I did the talking.
So then I asked him if he let his friends know what had happened and he showed me the text message he’d sent. It basically said that we had caught Dood looking up inappropriate stuff on the computer and told us that it was because of their conversations and that they would have to be way more careful in the future.
I have to admit that I was pleasantly (might be too generous of a word) surprised by their quick and apologetic replies, including, “Holy shit! Def be more aware!” from one friend. Another guy replied with how one of the classmates of his son (Kaarsin) got busted for googling “boobs” and narked on Kaarsin. Kaarsin happens to be a year younger than Dood, attends the races, AND his dad is probably the WORST offender of the group.
Sidebar? Kaarsin’s dad is the same prick who offered to be the “sperm donor” when he found out that male factor was contributing to our problems conceiving. Need I really say more?
As for looking at this as a conversation had too soon? Quite frankly, I didn’t want to have the conversation with him in four, six or even ten years. And I told him that: I don’t know what to say to him about this. I guess I should have asked questions; like what was he hoping to find? Images? Discussions? What exactly IS sexy? Sure, you and I both know it’s totally inappropriate for a 3rd grader to be looking that stuff up, but could you be specific in your explanation if you were asked why? Thankfully, he didn’t ask.
As several of you pointed out, children DO grow up too fast in today’s technology-based world, which I think is ironic (I think I’m going to use that word correctly). 100 years ago, parents often urged their children to get married in their early teens. Single women in their 20s were spinsters. But now? I can’t even imagine promoting the idea of settling down to either of my kids before turning 30. I feel so old. When exactly does wisdom set in? Does it ever?
Today I aged 10 years in 10 minutes. I have a man-child in my house. One minute he is looking up new Beyblades on the computer and the next…? I mean, even right now, he is literally curled up, lying on his side, playing Pokemon on his Nintendo DS and my heart is bruised watching him.
After school started, we set up an old laptop in his room and saved several school-recommended websites under his profile. I knew he was googling and watching youtube videos because he would tell me about what he had found. It was always about some new toy or his favorite football team. However, today something was…off.
Doodicus headed to his room and shut the door.
He shut. the. door.
He never shuts his door.
I was helping Aitch with something and I couldn’t get away from her fast enough and when I did, I just knew I had to be quiet and quick. I didn’t knock, but just barged into his room. Doodicus slammed the lid of his computer down and jumped up from his chair and rushed to me. I tried to move him out of my way and he started yelling for me to get out. I pulled his hands away from me and quietly told him to sit on the bed. He continued to yell, “What?! What do you want?!”
Two more times I told him to sit on the bed. I was deliberately calm; quiet. This was a major turning point and I knew how I reacted was going to make every difference in our future relationship as mother and son. He finally stopped yelling and pulling at my arms and sat down on the edge of the bed. I lifted the lid of the computer barely taking in the list of links I recognized as a google search results page. Instead I looked at the two words in the search box: sexy women.
My heart stopped it’s thundering beat for a second and then took off again even faster. I shut the lid again and turned to look at my eight year old son sitting on the bed who was now crying.
The first thing I did was to tell him he wasn’t in trouble. I mean how could he be when we hadn’t set any specific rules about this? I asked why he was looking something like that up; were his friends at school talking about it? No, he said. Dad’s friends are always talking about it at the races.
A small flicker of fury started up in my guts. I’ve never had a reason to dislike both my husband’s and son’s hobby until this very moment. This radio-control racing isn’t a child’s sport. Instead it’s for middle-aged men with pauches and forgiving wives who get together and geek out with talks of springs, brushless motors, battery packs and each armed with soldering irons and battery chargers. I actually enjoy the company but only in brief spurts. It’s probably comparable to your husband enjoying your girlfriends and accompanying you to the mall, but quickly splitting off to go check out the sports store or hitting the theater to see the recent action-thriller starring a really aged and poorly botoxed movie star (I’m looking at you, Sylvester Stallone).
But as much as I like the guys and the way they take kids like Doodicus under their wings, I knew the conversations sometimes get a little bawdy as they forget he’s there; or maybe don’t think he’s listening while he plays his video games between heats.
And I should have known that sooner or later this would happen.
As for what I said to him after that? First I found Sparring Partner who was really in just as much hot water as Doodicus. I briefly explained what had happened (to explain the yelling that could be heard across the house) and then had to explain what the rules will be from here on out and how we were going to enforce them, including major restrictions on his laptop.
Yes, I know we should have done that first. Trust me, I’ve already mentally flogged myself a dozen times this afternoon. I don’t know how I’m going to reconcile these two different parts that make up my son: the boy he has been for the past eight years with the young man emerging in these odd fits and starts that make me feel as if I’ve entered the Twilight Zone. Wasn’t he just a toddler obsessed with how many Hot Wheels cars he had of each color?
Laptop is majorly infected so have to use husband’s.
Original post I had here is just…gone.
Zandra tagged me, not Tara.
There was supposed to be an imbedded video on my last post. Not sure what happened there.
I’m really looking forward to the flooded basement / fender-bender / lightning strike / broken limb / swarm of locust that is sure to come up next.
Wow. Everyone got so serious. Sheesh. A total stranger hit upon something in her comment left on the NaBloPoMo, which was this: sometimes parents can get – I don’t want to use the word desperate, but yes – desperate for something our kids can do. Where we live, we don’t have a Chuck E. Cheese’s or a Bounce U or a children’s museum or whatever populated urban areas have. We have cornhusk dolls and rocks, people! So when my kid gets an opportunity to do something outside of playing on the swingless playground at school or watching his little sister climb the rubberized lion on the 20×20 play area in the mall, we’re going to go for it. And so will his friends.
Wow. I sound a little defensive and indignant, don’t I?
Here’s something to lighten the mood (and change the subject). My congratulations if you can get through the entire clip.
I intentionally misled you with the last post. Doodicus wasn’t invited to a pool party. We are the ones (possibly) hosting it. I believe if I asked, “Dood wants to have an indoor water/pool party but the closest amenities are two hours away. Would you let your child attend?” you may not have answered as honestly if you had answered at all.
This idea came about because Dood didn’t get a birthday party last year. All the snow put people off, rightfully so. So this year I told Dood that if he wanted to do something extra special, including this pool party, we would make arrangements. At first he wasn’t too into the idea. He was leaning towards a pool/laser-tag party at the local Y, common birthday party faire for around here during the cold weather seasons.
Last week I asked one last time what he wanted to do and he had changed his mind. He’d rather invite two or three friends for a day at the water park than invite a dozen friends for laser-tag. I told him that I would have to talk to the parents first to see if it was something they would allow, just so he wouldn’t get his hopes up only to be dashed when the parents ended up feeling the same as most of you, per your comments.
However, I was pleasantly surprised and especially relieved when both boys’ mothers responded positively to the prospect. While I like the idea of an even number of kids in a group, I think three in this kind of situation is going to be enough to make it fun for Doodicus and not overwhelming for us.
Sorry to be deliberately vague on the last post. Do you think you would have answered EXACTLY the same knowing we were the ones doing the inviting?
Here’s the situation:
Your child has been invited, along with just a couple of other kids, to a pool party at an indoor water park in a hotel. The birthday child’s parents are driving the children there, but it is two hours away. They are also covering all expenses as far as access fees, lunch, etc. While the park is in a hotel, they will not be staying overnight.
Would you let your child go? What concerns would you have?
There’s always room for memes during NaBloPoMo, especially when I haven’t been able to keep up. A NOTABLE blog post requires time, research, thought, editing, rewriting….
I’m not good at any of those.
1. What is one TV show you make a point of watching every week?
I use to try to watch Glee, House, Lie to Me and CSI: Las Vegas but I honestly don’t know where my day goes. Right now I could be watching the DVRed programs, but nooooo! I’m doing this meme instead!!
2. Did you wear braces?
No, but I did wear a retainer for a few weeks. Yes, just weeks because I couldn’t stand the damn thing. It hurt and I once caught my tongue in the wire. With all the money I’m going to win in the lottery, I would like to get my teeth straightened and whitened. After I have all that plastic surgery I’ve been wishing for.
3. How many cars have you owned?
Solo, I’ve owned three: my first was a 1973 Plymouth Duster that I bought from the gay couple who lived next door to my studio apartment when I lived in Wichita. They were good guys, but not the best mechanics. The second car I bought was a 1986 Ford Tempo, 2-door. I flirted with the salesman who took me to lunch during the test drive in which he did the driving. You see, it was a 5-speed manual and I didn’t know how to drive a stick. It’s a friggin miracle I didn’t kill anyone driving between Omaha (where I bought it) and Lincoln (where I lived at the time). And then the first NEW car I ever owned as a single-person was the 1996 Dodge Neon. I thought I was pretty hot shit driving my smiling, black Neon around town. Since getting married? I’ve had four vehicles that were my main rides, all Toyotas.
4. I’m coming to your house for dinner, what will you serve me?
As long as I know you’re coming, I would definitely be prepared. Normally, it would be something that’s universally tolerated, like lasagna; however Tara is a vegetarian. Around here (“here” as in Cattle Country), a vegetarian would starve to death (except when sweet corn is in season), or do what my friend does when she visits and go through McDonalds and order a cheeseburger, hold the patty. So then I’d have to defer to my sister who lives in The Capital and is also a vegetarian for what makes for a satisfying dinner. We once tried to grill portobello burgers for her but I don’t she was impressed…unlike me, she’s too polite to actually tell us they sucked.
5. Other than anything having to do with family, name something for which you are thankful.
I am, and always will be, eternally grateful for every single person I’ve “met” through blogging, even the ones who are no longer around. The blogging community is like a hand-made crazy quilt: every stitch and patch just adds to the overall color and warmth I can wrap around me when I need a hug. Cheesy, no?
Now, let me see. My
victims taggees will be
And my questions: