almost six years of marriage...

...and all I want to do at this moment is kick him in the teeth.

Okay, so I don't really believe in using violence against others (self-defence excepted), but this is one of my favorite frustration phrases.

The last couple of days have been...trying. I'm sure it's mainly me and the lack of sleep and all. It's also a bit of the constant Mamma-Pic interaction. Please don't get me wrong. I love being able to spend this time with Pic, it's just that on occasion I would like a little bit of time for myself. This is part of why I don't sleep. After Pic goes to bed at night is my time. This is when I can get my own stuff accomplished. Often, I get so wrapped up in what I'm doing that my mind just doesn't settle. The night before last, I slept for about two-and-a-half hours. Yesterday sucked. All day yesterday, I felt a little ill.

We are right now trying to sell my car for a number of reasons. We placed an ad and have already gotten some responses. However, there are things that need to be accomplished. Cardo had asked me to buy some engine cleaner and clean the engine (seriously...it's an engine, do I really need to clean it). I ran a few errands and then bought the engine cleaner which specified that the engine needed to be cool before I used it. I ended up not cleaning the engine (the cleaner freaks me out and how cool does the engine need to be? Not my area of expertise people and not something I'm interested in experimenting with). When Cardo got home, I explained that I hadn't cleaned the engine and he just looked at me, exasperated and said, 'I just thought you'd do what I asked you to.' Um, no.

All day yesterday and for a good part of today too, I was getting calls from this man about responses to the ad. This whole him having access to the interweb wherever he is sometimes (very often) makes me crazy. Now, I like the interweb very much, certo, but I do not like to be connected at all times and, really, I don't like for him to be either. After the many directives sent my way, I have begun to resent this whole stupid process. However, it was my idea so I just need to get over it, right? Right.

Anyhow, I finally ended up taking Pic to the pool rather late in the evening last night and Cardo stopped by to get us when he got home. Pic would not get out of the pool. She's usually really good about this, barely dragging out the process, but last night, she just wouldn't get out. Finally, we had to tell her that if she didn't get out right then, we wouldn't be coming back today (we are now waiting until tomorrow to try again...this is even more difficult on her because we can look right out of our window at the pool and she has longingly gazed out several times today). Strict Mamma holds firm. Yea.

By the time we got back in the apartment, I was even less thrilled than I had been with the rest of the day. I wanted some kind of comfort, sympathy, cuddling from my husband, but no such luck. He never even asked how my day had been, I just offered up the information. I despise this. I kind of hate that I have to tell him that it would really make me feel that my time also mattered if he even bothered to ask me how my day had been. I extend this courtesy to him every day. 'Hey, Man I Married, I am interested in you and your doings and I value how you contribute to our family. Please reciprocate.'

Today hasn't been much better. I'm at the point where I just want to not have to see him tonight when he gets off work (it turns out he's not opening as he had told me he was, he's working a sucky midshift).

We are supposed to be actually, really, truly celebrating an anniversary il quest weekend, but I'm not at the moment feeling much like it.

So, now I have spewed all of this whining all over the land of the ether. I know that I love him and that some days are just trying. I know that my not getting enough sleep (ever) is part of the problem. I know that I am a person with countless good things about my life and that so many others would like for my petty problems to be their biggest woes. So, I'm closing the vent and hoping that this feeling of low-level ire clears away before I give him the card I got for our anniversary, the card professing that I love him forever (which is the plan).

not so routine

This past weekend, Coach J invited us camping. We had been planning on going camping anyhow, when we went on vacation in a couple of weeks, but, hey, camping with friends is even better, right? Definitely.

The area was nice. Not too far out, but seemingly away from our daily lives. Through the trees, we could spy the valley stretching out.

Mr J had claimed a spot early in the day on Friday and had then gone about doing what he needed to do, so when Pic, Cardo and I got there, no one else was there. This was good because Cardo and I hurried to get our tent up. I say this because it's been three years since we've camped and I was afraid that we'd have no idea how to set up the tent and we look like bumbling fools getting the tent erected (although, actually, that could have been some good comic relief). My worry was, as it usually is, unwarranted, though. We got the tent up in just a few minutes actually. (I remember tents being much more difficult to put up and take down in my youth...and maybe they were.) The rest of the party arrived shortly thereafter.

The camping was great and relaxing. Meals had been planned out (not by us, because that would require organization...we're working on it) so they all went incredibly smoothly and were mighty tasty. The kidlets got on really well (I was expecting a lot more meltdowns from Pic, especially after she had one not too long after we got there). The tent didn't blow away, although it threatened to the second day. No one fell into the fire. S'mores were consumed. All was good.

It was a bit surreal going camping with the kids, though. When I was growing up, camping was something we did somewhat regularly (at least once a year). I'm told my first camping trip was when I was something like four months old (oh brave parents!). I'd be one of the kids camping with the grownups. Now, I'm one of the grownups camping with my kid. So, so weird, but also wonderful in a this-is-the-kind-of-tradition-I'd-like-to keep kind of way.

We took Pic camping when she was one-and-a-half. We tried again last year, but the place we went was way too hot. We have got to make this a priority from here on out.

As is normal for me, I didn't take nearly enough pictures, but I'll post a couple of the ones I did snap. (I've got to work on getting more pictures. I always regret not having enough.)





Pic holding the pinecones by their handles. Yes, pinecones have handles. Destructor flying down the hill.






Chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool.





The kids driving...or the kids totally neglecting to watch the road.



We, of course, thanked our hosts, but really there isn't much of a way to thank them enough. We really needed to get out. And, we needed to hang out with them.

lacking

SLEEP
Sir Philip Sidney

Come, Sleep; O Sleep! the certain knot of peace.
The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe,
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
Th' indifferent judge between the high and low;
With shield of proof shield me from out the prease
Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw:
O make in me those civil wars to cease;
I will good tribute pay, if thou do so.
Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed,
A chamber deaf to noise and blind of light,
A rosy garland and a weary head;
And if these things, as being thine by right,
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me,
Livelier than elsewhere, Stella's image see.


--------

Not sure what my Stella is, but I'll even take dreams of Stella at this point.

wordless wednesday

overheard

Around midnight last night, I heard the splash of someone getting into the pool way past the time anyone should be in there. Then I heard a male voice ponder, 'I just got butt-ass naked and realized that's someone's window up there.'

First, that has to be really, really naked. Second, yes those glass inserts in the solid walls are windows.

musing

Salt and vinegar chips smell like cleaning the bathroom.

inter-species unions

Kilmeade, in this less-than-a-minute, is completely offensive. (At least, he completely offends me.) Part of it is probably that he's speaking live and hasn't had a chance to write and then read his response, but mainly, I think, this is how he feels, no matter how badly he's articulating his beliefs here.



First, how does he propose we go about things here in the US? Being of Irish, Italian and English descent (two of which he lists after speaking about different species), how would I ever get married? He'd probably very much disapprove of the union I've chosen -- my husband is Mexican (Cardo doesn't know much about his family's history).

But, really, other species? He must have attended (or at least heard of) some pretty interesting weddings.

(And, I don't believe that all Finnish people only marry other 'pure' Finnish people; nor do I believe that is true for the Swedish. But, you know, I'm not all that familiar with the 'rules' in Finland and Sweden.)

At least, at least, he ends with 'That's what I think.'