Happy Holiday Season!
I just enjoyed 4 days of blissful chaos! I'm talking baking, pretending to like my in-laws, shopping, arguing with The Cowboy about how mean his mother is, dancing, drinking, cleaning, telling The Cowboy how to put up Christmas lights, and most importantly... SLEEP!)
I made 3 incredible pies, by hand from scratch with (almost) all home-grown ingredients! Spent some quality time with my family, Thursday night. (which tremendously made up for missing dinner.) Spent an entire paycheck on stuff The Cowboy and I wanted, without actually buying a single Christmas gift, on Friday. Had an amazing date night with my husband, Saturday. Decorated Gram's house, Sunday.
It Was Fabulous!
My in-law suck, but I made it through my first Thanksgiving dinner away from the people I love. Thank GOD we all live in close proximity. I could not imagine having to spend more than a couple of hours at a time with those people.
The lovely woman who birthed my husband constantly refers to his ex-wife, and previous girlfriends. Seriously... we were setting the food out and she was stating where everyone was going to sit for our meal, all of the children were to sit in another room except Pretty Boy, he sat between his father and his grandmother. I was wedged in the corner between Pretty Boy and The Cowboy. Which she so kindly explained was "where we always put the extra person."
So apparently the wedding, and house buying, and my last name matching yours on the check I write you every month so you can pay your bills, doesn't elevate me from "the extra person" to "family" status.
(Bitch.)
I was raised in a family (with manners) where it is polite to take a little bit of everything at Holiday feasts. After you've sampled you go back for a little more of the things you really liked. This pretty much assures that you are going to stuff your face and belly, thus feel like a big fat hog the rest of the evening and well into the next day. I am not so good at going back for seconds. I like to keep my jeans buttoned and I really enjoy the 2 pieces of pie I eat each year. (one at Thanksgiving. one at Christmas.)
Apparently in The Cowboy's family, everyone takes crazy-heaping-helpings of the things they like but they don't actually try or eat everything on the table. So The Cowboy, his parents, sister, and bro-in-law, their 6 kids and my 3 new kids, have piled their plates with un-glodly amounts of like 3 things each, while I enjoyed a sample size portion of everything offered. My plate was covered, but not ready to topple over. Through dinner, Cowboy's father keeps making comments about how much food I had on my plate as though I piled it high and was eating for seven. Truly, I ate less than anyone there! Then he starts asks The Cowboy "How much are you up to now?"
The Cowboy's parents are on this Ionized-Water kick. They spent the last $4000 dollars they had on this water filter machine, hoping that the pyramid scheme would work against the odds and help bring them some income.
(Perhaps if the salesman wasn't a Nazi he could sell something, to someone.)
(Anyone.)
Anyway... They're all bat-shit crazy about drinking at least 8 glasses of Ionized water, everyday, and subsequently they have both dropped like 20 pounds each. I don't see it, but that's what they're claiming. Personally, I drink a couple bottles of water at work then enjoy a little wine or a couple of beers (or whatever.) when I get home. Apparently, (and this might be a shock to some of you.) if you drink a whole bottle of wine, then drink 2 glasses of Ionized Water before you go to bed, you wont have a hangover the next day.
You don't say... (snort!)
Then there's The Cowboy's sister. See, while she has 6 kids, she is pale and emaciated. She seriously looks like she hasn't the strength to hold her newest child for more than a few seconds at a time, and she was dosing off through our "pre-meal" mingling because he blood sugar was low becasue she "forgot" the day before. No one suggested she perhaps eat a little something before dinner, you know, to keep from falling over or passing out! Did I mention she is nursing the newest addition?H
Honestly, who forgets to eat for an entire day? You feed 6 children and it doesn't occur to you to stick some nourishment in your own mouth?
The Cowboy and I are not large people. In the last 2 years we've gone from "single-skinny" to that extra 10 that happens when you get in a comfortable relationship. But we are not, by any means, fat people. His Wranglers are still a 31x38, and I'm... well I'm not a 2 but I'm not a 10.
His parents spent the entirety of our first Thanksgiving, as a family, being just vile. From the food comments, to talking about everything from his ex-wife to "who was the last girl you brought to Thanksgiving? She was lovely." ... I'm not really sure why we were "requested" in the first place.
We are so not going there for Christmas...
~cheers!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Pulling The Plug
"Maybe not all friendships are meant to be saved. Maybe we're meant to spend a certain part of our lives with certain people -and move on..."
I came across this quote in Status Shuffle on Facebook. It is so true and appropraite for today. Some people, no matter how good of a time you had with them, no matter what your past shares, just have to be let go. When it is undelialby obvious that a friendship has become one sides, it's probably time to take it off life support.
~cheers!
I came across this quote in Status Shuffle on Facebook. It is so true and appropraite for today. Some people, no matter how good of a time you had with them, no matter what your past shares, just have to be let go. When it is undelialby obvious that a friendship has become one sides, it's probably time to take it off life support.
~cheers!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
At Least We Made an Appearance
I'm going to post this... I don't know where it's going, but it will end up on my page.
Good Grief! I missed my blogs first birthday. Pardon the absence... life got crazy and I couldn't write a coherent sentence, let alone a post. There are a shit-ton of new drafts saved though. I got to work today and decided, I'm going to write for 30 minutes and I'm going to post; no matter what.
I spent last night at Pretty Boy's football banquet. WooHoo!
I'm soooo not a "soccer mom". I go to work at 6am, come home, cook dinner, drink a glass of wine, fold laundry, bathe a monkey, feed my horses, and try to make sure the kids did their homework before they got on Facebook, MySpace, and XBox.
I apparently was the only "team mom" who fit this description. They all sat together at one table, wearing black and orange, with the same damn haircut; a couple of dad's, who didn't get to stay home and watch the Steelers game, sat another; and the team, of course, sat together. (wow. that was alot of commas and semi-colons. If I were a little less lazy I would check a reference book. But seriously, I'm not kidding anyone.) The Cowboy and I sat together at the back table, clapped for each kid, and faded into the scenery.
You see, we moved the night before school started so Pretty Boy joined the team about a month late...
I know I never wrote about the wedding and moving and how both of those incredible life altering events took place within 2 weeks of each other.
I may eventually get around to that, perhaps when I no longer wake up at 2am in a cold sweat, frantic, shaking, curled up in the fetal position and wondering why in the hell I left my apartment 2 years ago in search of a "more dignified, simpler, life".
Cowboys do weird things to women. Something about the Wranglers and scuffed up boots; the crinkle in the corner of their eye when they smile. The smell of horses, fresh air, and lush acreage. It's a spell I tell you, a damned spell. They enchant you and get you to lose all your sences then POOF! Next thing you know you're married, with kids and horses and dogs and cats and acreage; and the Cowboy doesnt want to get off the couch except to come to dinner and grab another beer ... ...
(deep breath.)
(smile. blush. smile again.)
Where was I? Ah yes... football
Pretty Boy joined the team the 2nd week of school. You might know that football practice starts in August, sometimes late July, so we weren't there for all of the getting to know you, fundraising, team building bru-ha-ha. He only got to play in 2 games and, being the awesome hard working mom that I am, I'm only going to leave work early to embark on a 45 minute hell ride, to watch a game that he is going to get to play in.
I mean really, if I want to watch him stand around and act like an idiot, I can do that from the comfort of my kitchen and be making dinner and laughing with the children who actually like me.
So basically, the "banquet" was long, and boring, and most of the moms gave me "the look" when we walked in 5 minutes late because we didn't know where the damn media room was. We probably shouldnt have even bothered going, but then we'd be "those" parents. We're new in town; I was kind of hoping to meet the parents of some of the kids, that will be getting arrested with Pretty Boy in the next couple of years, before the inevitable 2am encounter at the Police Station.
Maybe I should try to get more involved with wrestling from the beginning...
... ... ...
(snicker.)
(snort.)
Cause that'll happen.
~cheers!
Good Grief! I missed my blogs first birthday. Pardon the absence... life got crazy and I couldn't write a coherent sentence, let alone a post. There are a shit-ton of new drafts saved though. I got to work today and decided, I'm going to write for 30 minutes and I'm going to post; no matter what.
I spent last night at Pretty Boy's football banquet. WooHoo!
I'm soooo not a "soccer mom". I go to work at 6am, come home, cook dinner, drink a glass of wine, fold laundry, bathe a monkey, feed my horses, and try to make sure the kids did their homework before they got on Facebook, MySpace, and XBox.
I apparently was the only "team mom" who fit this description. They all sat together at one table, wearing black and orange, with the same damn haircut; a couple of dad's, who didn't get to stay home and watch the Steelers game, sat another; and the team, of course, sat together. (wow. that was alot of commas and semi-colons. If I were a little less lazy I would check a reference book. But seriously, I'm not kidding anyone.) The Cowboy and I sat together at the back table, clapped for each kid, and faded into the scenery.
You see, we moved the night before school started so Pretty Boy joined the team about a month late...
I know I never wrote about the wedding and moving and how both of those incredible life altering events took place within 2 weeks of each other.
I may eventually get around to that, perhaps when I no longer wake up at 2am in a cold sweat, frantic, shaking, curled up in the fetal position and wondering why in the hell I left my apartment 2 years ago in search of a "more dignified, simpler, life".
Cowboys do weird things to women. Something about the Wranglers and scuffed up boots; the crinkle in the corner of their eye when they smile. The smell of horses, fresh air, and lush acreage. It's a spell I tell you, a damned spell. They enchant you and get you to lose all your sences then POOF! Next thing you know you're married, with kids and horses and dogs and cats and acreage; and the Cowboy doesnt want to get off the couch except to come to dinner and grab another beer ... ...
(deep breath.)
(smile. blush. smile again.)
Where was I? Ah yes... football
Pretty Boy joined the team the 2nd week of school. You might know that football practice starts in August, sometimes late July, so we weren't there for all of the getting to know you, fundraising, team building bru-ha-ha. He only got to play in 2 games and, being the awesome hard working mom that I am, I'm only going to leave work early to embark on a 45 minute hell ride, to watch a game that he is going to get to play in.
I mean really, if I want to watch him stand around and act like an idiot, I can do that from the comfort of my kitchen and be making dinner and laughing with the children who actually like me.
So basically, the "banquet" was long, and boring, and most of the moms gave me "the look" when we walked in 5 minutes late because we didn't know where the damn media room was. We probably shouldnt have even bothered going, but then we'd be "those" parents. We're new in town; I was kind of hoping to meet the parents of some of the kids, that will be getting arrested with Pretty Boy in the next couple of years, before the inevitable 2am encounter at the Police Station.
Maybe I should try to get more involved with wrestling from the beginning...
... ... ...
(snicker.)
(snort.)
Cause that'll happen.
~cheers!
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