7 weird things about Jeff

So, this is Jeff. Highjacking Rainey's blog so that I can respond to Shauna tagging me. First of all let me say that I'm sure all of you are thinking "What isn't weird about Jeff?". From my perspective the answer is nothing. So I tried to think of the many times when I've explained something about myself and the response I get is "That's so weird!". I came up with a few and I let my family fill in the rest.

1. Eating. I have many hang-ups when it comes to eating. I can't eat before noon and usually don't until 3, 4 or 5 in the evening. I don't like to eat at restaurants or other peoples houses, in fact I don't like eating anywhere but home. I get grossed out very easily when it comes to food. If I see a spot of mold on something, that's it! I don't eat that particular item for a long time, if ever again. I like to eat the same thing, every day, for every meal. Until that one day when all of the sudden I'm sick of it and move on to the next thing (usually right when Rainey buys a months supply thinking I will be eating this for a long time to come) I can't control when it happens, but it's always sudden.

2. I have been a practitioner of "Manscaping" since I was a young teenager. I don't like being hairy and I take the necessary measures to keep everything at optimal length.

3. I sit when I go to the bathroom and choose a bath over a shower (if time permits). Why stand when you can sit and relax.

4. I can, and have, gone days without speaking. In fact I was thinking just today that I kinda wish I was deaf, that way I could use sign language to do all my communicating. I find it painful sometimes even making the smallest amount of speech. I can fake it with the best of them but I was definitely meant for the digital age. I can text and email all my communications and I can say things I never would have in a live conversation.

The next three are courtesy of my family. I asked my wife and kids "What's weird about me?" and this was there response.

5. COLE: "You draw weird stuff..." then he added "but also cool stuff and pretty stuff, but mostly weird stuff."

6. RILEY: "You say "Ribbit" every time you burp."

7. RAINEY: "You are very accepting of people's opinions, except when it comes to movies. You will fight tooth and nail to get your view across, and then be pissed when others don't necessarily agree."

As I am reading these I realize they are pretty boring. The more interesting ones I can think of probably should stay in my head. If anyone else can think of better ones go for it!

Oh and Rainey has informed me that I have to tag someone now, so I tag my brotha' from anotha' motha', Kyle!

In the Meantime....

Ah, Fall. Just the smell of it in the air beckons me, my friends...wakes me up. Makes me anticipate lighting my pumpkin pie and cinnamon candles, just to add to my favorite time of year's ambiance. I'm truly ready for the year to begin. For me, this is when it does.
So, this day has been one of reflection, but in a positive way. There are times when I can't think of truly positive things about my childhood, yet, today, I remembered a few gems.
As I was mopping the floor in my kitchen, (probably my most HATED household chore), I was listening to my ipod. I set it on random, because if I take the time to think of who I want to listen to, I waste time. Also, I always end up listening to my old standbys--even though I have tons of other good stuff to choose from. So random it is. Anyway, as I mopped, I heard the beginnings of a song that I haven't heard in quite a while. Now, for some reflection.
As a kid, I can remember being driven about in my Dad's '85 robin's egg blue Ford Bronco. He loved that car. I loved that car--if there is anyway I can empathize with Jeff's fascination with his now gone Isuzu Amigo, it's for me to remember my father's Bronco. In high school, even though it was ten years old, when I got to drive it, I always felt cool.
So, when I was quite young, and my dad would drive to various places, we'd always listen to the radio. His favorite station was the only one within listening range that wasn't country. It basically played adult contemporary with a few oldies on the side, and sometimes when one of these songs would play, my dad's face would completely change. It was odd to see this. A boilermaker, my father was a "tough guy". He usually looked pissed--a look I have not only inherited, but even improved. Anyway, all of a sudden, the music would start, and he'd suddenly look years younger-actually glow-and grin a big, boyish smile, that I just never saw outside of this situation. He'd tell me "Man, this takes me back". And then I'd listen as he'd belt the words to "Bony Marony", or "Cherokee People".
I liked seeing him that way. For a few moments life wasn't stressful or scary. I always wondered what that would be like, to have music take you away for a time, where things were happier and just better. At like, nine or ten years old, I hadn't had that time or love of music under my belt. So I just couldn't really understand that phenomenon. At thirty, I've actually had quite a few of those moments-- when I'm in my car listening to the radio and "Todd's Nineties at Noon" comes on. I can only handle so much of it, but every once in a while, a song plays that I'd forgotten about. As I listen, I can still remember a certain situation of my teen life that was either good or bad, but just the clarity of the memory, reminds me that I wasn't always who I am now. It's kind of a pleasant experience.
Anyway, as I mopped, the song, "In the Meantime", by Spacehog came on. In spring of 95, Moriah Love and I went on a road trip and of all places to go, came here. Actually, it was Orem. My cousins lived here--they were happy childhood memories, too. Anyway, Moriah and I didn't really have anything in mind as far as coming here went, we just wanted to get out of Buffalo, WY. And for those of you that have been there, the reason for that is more than obvious. Honestly, I had planned on getting a tattoo here, and I did. The giant, greater than hand-sized fairy on my stomach is still a wonder to me, sometimes. (For those of you that are slightly curious, it's normally the size of a golf ball...and yes, thankfully, always goes back). The why I got it and the reason behind the where I put it, is pretty much forgotten. But it's here, and in my eighth month of pregnancy tummy, it's ginormous. Obviously I wasn't thinking ahead or coherently--so essentially it is a great example of a teenage moment.
So, in lieu of this post, I recommend that each of us pick a time in our lives, whether it be good or embarrassing or exceedingly bad...and remember it. See it again by the smell in the air, or the song on the radio. Somehow, it will bring that carefree grin to your face, just to think about how far you've come from that point in time. Sometimes we need a break from the everyday life we deal with...like cleaning house, paying bills, or the mutilation that is my tattooed belly.
Happy Monday, suckas.

Everyday life.

First of all, this isn't a set up for a debate on Immunizations: Should my children get them, or not? This is just me reflecting. I am in the middle of two very opposite opinions, and in no way has coming to the decision I've come to, been simple, as some say it should be. (Yes, I read the booklet that's continually circulated).
Riley and Cole both have gotten their immunizations. Not before age two, like the saying goes, but they get them the year they start kindergarten. Jeff and I, after much deliberation and thought, decided it would be best for our children to do this however, we wait until they are older, because as infants, there are so many things that are unknown. They can't tell you WHY they aren't feeling well. Whether it's end-of-the-world pain or gas, it's the same sort of scream. (Perhaps in infant hood they are one in the same? I don't know, and that's my point). For instance, yesterday Cole told me after getting four shots (yet, the equivalent of seven separate immunizations), the previous day in his rear, "Mom, my stomach doesn't feel so good, and my butt really hurts". I took that as he's feeling queasy, and that I should give him some pain reliever, because his bony bum is probably achy. It's also easier for my children to be prepared with a bribe--"yes, this will hurt a lot, yes you will cry." But they are told that if they are as brave as they can possibly be, they will get to pick a toy out at the very end. You want to know how well this system works? FABULOUSLY. Both of my children have inherited my acceptance of bribery, and though that may not be an issue of bragging quality to pass to your little ones, it makes life a lot easier.
It's hard though, to willingly put your children in pain's way. Holding Cole while he clenched every muscle in his body and hearing him cry out every time he was jabbed, almost made me cry. My Doctor's nurse, whom I love, felt so bad about it afterwards that she offered Cole two treats and said she was sorry. Through tears Cole said, "That's okay". The nurse got a little teary-eyed and said that this was definitely a crappy part of her job.
Luckily after we drove out of the parking lot, Cole was in a chipper mood, knowing that the entire store of Target awaited his toy-picking decision.
I've previously mentioned "bedtime points". And yesterday, Cole stayed home because of his aches, and some puking. Both things that Jeff and I, through Riley, have found is on the normal side. When I woke Riley up for school today, she told me her throat was, "dry". I told her that happens, and to get her clothes on. (Another thing Riley has picked up from me? My faking-sick go-to excuse). She wasn't the least bit impressed with my lack of sympathy, got pretty ticked, and in a clipped tone reminded me that Cole stayed home from school yesterday, and as our rules state, he should NOT be able to sleep in the living room, with free range of fridge and treats this Friday night. (Little does she know that Jeff and I instated this clause simply because of her solution to make the school week shorter: Fake sick a couple of days. It was easier to tell her that going to school all week was required in order to have the Bedtime points privilege, than it was arguing that in fact, she wasn't really sick...even if she pulled out the fake cough).
I told her that Cole was really sick, he threw up and everything, and that got her out of bed with a sour expression and a roll of her eyes. Later, after texting Jeff the situation, he responded back to me that in reality, she skipped school on Tuesday, too, because I didn't have anyone that would be there to pick her up while Cole had his appointment. So, using her logic, she wouldn't get to sleep downstairs, either. I relayed the message as she ate breakfast, she stopped chewing, and her rather big eyes got bigger as she said, "I'm not saying anything more about it". She's also a quick learner. So that's our week so far. Oh yeah, I wanted to mention a happy moment from yesterday. I went to give my sister-in-law that's due about the same time as I am, her baby gift and also look at her home, which she and her husband have been renovating. (It's fabulous, just so you know). But she came out and gave me one of Riley's old onesies....it's pink and tye-dyed. I guess somehow after I gave Riley's baby clothes away, it got recirculated back to her, and she thought I'd like to have it back. Which is so true, because I'd been thinking about it lately, and wondered what I had done with it. Sometimes little things can make you so happy...and that was one of them. So, thanks Kass!
That's all for now.
Oh, and I've stopped watching True Blood. Sadly, it was ruining the books for me, with all the "creative direction" they've taken. Just FYI.

Another Cole story. (Because you so politely asked....sorry but no visuals were allowed...I already asked).

A week ago, or something, I posted about Cole's aversion to wearing underwear. We've had a few arguments lately, but for the most part, he's good about putting them on. Usually after being reminded. A few days ago I was lying in bed, reading. Cole had just gotten out of the bath and I yelled at him to hurry, because he had school in a half hour. He told me he already had his clothes on, and I made him model what he was wearing, which turned out to be too tight sweat pants, and one of Jeff's graphic T-shirts from his old job. I told him, kindly, that that attire wasn't acceptable for school, and that this time he was to put the clothes on that I had laid out on his bed. And to NOT forget to put the underwear on, as well.
A couple minutes later Cole came into my room sporting another look that was neither intended or recommended by me.
(Previously I had posted pictures where Cole had put on blue camouflage boxers and yanked them up to his ribcage. The end result being a type of onesie that for the most part covered his frontals and backside, however, looked very uncomfortable in the process. So uncomfortable, I have to admit, that I was panicked he'd injure a few vitals if he were to continue wearing his boxers in that manner. After reading the comments on my previous post, I asked him to look at what I'd so artfully arranged on my blog in draft form...just waiting to be given the go ahead. He saw it, said, "Mom, those pictures are me in my big underpants." I said, "I know, you just made me laugh so much that I wanted to share, and would that be okay?" His reply was, "Nope. Noooo it is not okay. Because underpants cover my privates." So there you all have it).
He was excited about the fact that these underwear were indeed an outfit in themselves. Not only was he wearing the required undergarments, but he also invented a new, easy outfit that covered all the questionable parts. After a few minutes of laughter, I explained to him that though it's a good idea in theory, it's against the rules to go to school solely in your underwear. Also, that is the kind of thing that a lot of my nightmares were about. I talked him into letting me take a few pictures to show his dad and he went to get into his regular clothing.
Though you can't really see it in these pictures, there were some areas that looked very, er, restricted by this high-wasted design. On the other hand, I am proud of my son and his desire to forgo comfort, in the name of groundbreaking fashion.

guilted.

I recently posted a funny and adorable story about Cole. Complete with pictures. However, Jeff reminded me that I had promised Cole that I wouldn't show anyone the pictures, because he was embarrassed of them. So I took the post down. Though this helps me to keep my word to my son, I'm also so disappointed that I can't share the story that I just spent the last two hours on. So, for those of you that are sick of looking at my last post, I'm sorry. This is all you're getting for now, in the name of good mothering. I'll try to come up with something interesting....sooner rather than later.

WTF?

I know I'm going to get a lot of crap about this statement, but I'm done with this 80 degree weather. It's OCTOBER...in like, three days. And there's supposed to be a chill in the air. There's supposed to be an excuse for me to wear the only maternity clothing I bought for myself, because I actually thought that I would ENJOY wearing them...my hoodies. I hate that it's not weather for this yet. Last year at this time, there was a little snowstorm. And, FYI, I've argued with Jeff about this already, and I came out right, as usual. So those of you that conveniently don't "remember", just own up to me knowing what I'm talking about.
On a totally unrelated note, I read on someone's blog that I blog-stalk, that there are certain posts they read and they are so disappointed with the boringness and lameness that are some blogs they read, that they feel more stupid after having read them. Honestly I really don't know this person, and they don't know me, but I first thought, "that's exactly what I think about some of your posts". However, I then thought about it, and realized that perhaps a time or maybe two at the very most, that has been what others have thought about mine, as well. (And if it's been more than that, keep it to yourself, please, and thank you). Also, to be fair, I read that this person is pregnant, and not that this doesn't happen when I'm not pregnant, but when I am, I think I'm about 75% more snarky. You know, I'm un-medicated and such, so I feel my anger and impatience more potently. I will additionally throw in again, that this is a person that I just covertly read about, even though I haven't been invited or anything, so yeah, it's a bit overkill that I'm even commenting on this subject. But my point is, I think we all say things that end up biting us in our collective asses. Anyway, I do, and I'm including you all, because it's lonely at the top.
I was re-reading some of my posts. Just because, I don't have to explain myself. And I got to one that I think I typed out in January. It was about the Oscars...and basically, my opinion on actors having children and getting their baby photos sold, and then not really having anymore to do with them, because they can afford live-in, plural, nannies. I was really proud of it, because I portrayed myself as a fantastic mother, and quite knowledgeable in the process. I also said some things that painted me in a pleasant light about knowing how many children to have and knowing when to say when and yada, yada, yada. I wasn't entirely specific, but the gist was, I was a great mom, and I loved my babies, and I was so happy with the TWO that I had, and good for me, that I did everything so perfectly.
And then, about two weeks later, guess what? After six years of thinking I was completely done, I found out I was pregnant. Somehow that little fact just threw out the poignancy of my entire post. I hate it when that happens.
Anyway, that's where my thoughts have been, lately. I'll let you know when they change course and such, as I'm sure you'll be waiting, especially those of you that blog-stalk me, and have never once worried about yourself becoming more stupid just by reading my stuff. Also, for those of you that have, I console myself by saying that YOU are blog-stalking ME. So, who's the real pathetic one, Hmm? Hopefully, if by any small chance the person I brought up reads this, they console themselves by this thought, as well. Happy Freaking October. Let's get less sun than I've seen so far, because this is ridiculous.

At this point in time:..

So, not a lot has been happening 'round here. This is good, really. (Possibly not for you readers, however....as is obvious in my last few posts). I now have ten weeks exactly until Sydney gets here, but I'm assuming it will actually be eleven weeks, as my babies don't come unless they're made to. People keep telling me that this is the time where "everything flies". However, I've had two previous children, and that wasn't my experience then, so I am resigned to think that this won't be my experience now. The end for me, is a lot like the beginning: uncomfortable, nausea-inducing, and severe sleep deprivation.
The good thing, though, is I'm more ready for this baby than I was for the other two. I know that I don't have to work, and this is a true relief. Then there's the fact that Jeff's job gives him Mondays and Fridays off, so I don't have that "I'm going to be alone all week long" fear. Also, the season will be perfect for having a new baby...the kids will soon have Christmas vacation, and that will be two weeks where I won't have to worry about getting them to school and getting them home. Little things, these, however, I remember wondering if there would ever be a time when I could just pee or shower without having to worry about disrupting the baby. So when I think of having to make three trips daily to and from Riley and Cole's school, it's pretty intimidating.
Everything is suddenly harder: Putting my shoes on, wearing clothes, showering, I'm sure you get the point. However, I also have these spurts of, "Get off your butt, Fatty!" Moments when I need to do something. Last Friday I mowed the lawn and about killed myself--I'd been too lazy. Then on Sunday I put my Halloween decorations up, and between climbing ladders and the cleanup, had to take a four hour nap today. Seriously. I've always prided myself on my being physically capable of doing stuff--not that I've been good at it, mind you, but I could do it. So I guess at this point in time, I wonder if this is normal. Aside from the continuous crying, (check), and the swollen ankles, (check), My memory from six years ago is completely gone, and I don't remember how I dealt with being pregnant with Cole. Am I just being a big, fat, baby? Or is feeling like this fairly normal? I can't tell you.
Jeff is steadily getting more and more to do at work. This is good, as he was concerned that he'd eventually die of boredom, and he worried that he wouldn't get the chance to show his stuff. But things have started to pick up, and he's busy. Jeff used to be the guy where the less he had to do, the better, but you know, with great power comes great responsibility and yada, yada, yada. Somehow the man I married turned into the business type. Sometimes it's just odd to be an adult, I guess.
Riley is enjoying school, however, she is beginning her times tables and I'm an idiot. So this mixture spells disaster for both of us. I know my multiplication, however, explaining it to my eight year old is another matter. Explaining it without ensuring frustration on both sides is even more difficult. So if anyone has any good suggestions of an easier way to help her out with this, let me know. On a lighter note, she's also going through this phase of realizing that boys do weird things. She'll ask me questions about why boys will hit you, or pinch you, and then get their feelings hurt when you call them, "jerks" or "mean". I've told her it's because they like her and they want her attention. She asked me why they just can't say nice things or tell her that they like her and they want to be her friend. Why indeed? It's still a mystery.
Cole loves school. I'm so thankful for this. From all the drama we'd endured beforehand, I really thought we'd have quite a few problems. But other than the fact that Cole really doesn't believe that penmanship is in anyway important, things are going really well. He loves sounding letters out, and he's learning to read sight words. He sings songs all day--with lyrics ranging from Rainbows to brushing his teeth. This morning Riley said she was too sick to go to school, because of a cough. I told her she could go back to sleep for a while, and we'd see how she felt later. Cole, coughing as well, and worried that this meant I would sleep forever, came in to my room as I lay back down and told me that under no circumstances was he going to stay home. I assured him that I'd take him when the time came, and, feeling better about that, he went back to sleep for a while.
After I woke up, I noticed that Riley was feeling better. She was ticked when I told her to go put her clothes on because she was going to get a couple hours of school in, at least. Cole was already dressed....in an outfit that would have worked as pajamas, but not for school. I told him to go put some different clothes on that I'd picked out for him, and Riley helped him find a belt...only to notice that Cole had neglected to put underwear on. This is a new thing for him. For some reason, he just doesn't think that they're important. I differ on that opinion, so he and I sometimes go the rounds. But is this just a boy thing? Or is this a Cole thing? I've asked Jeff, and he just laughs, and doesn't know what to tell me. Anyway, my son never fails to surprise and confuse me.
So that's all there is for now. A lot of information, yeah, but I'm extra chatty this evening, and Jeff is working, so the end result is this. Besides, I always enjoy reading what other's lives are like-- a big reason why I'm a blog-stalker in general.