Today, Husband = Poo

I love my husband, don't get me wrong, but sometimes, I feel like he's poo on the bottom of my shoe. Seriously. The times are few and far between, and all other times, he's amazing, but on days like today, I just want to scrape him off and leave him at the doorstep.

He texted me mid-day today stating that he had a flat tire and asking what to do. I told him to change it and put on the spare. He replied that he doesn't have a jack or a tire iron in his car (nor do I, matter of fact. Maybe we should invest in some, eh?) so I told him to ask his coworkers if anyone had a jack and iron he could use after work. Finally, he found someone (after I already arranged for two potential back-ups).

I called the mechanic and asked if they could squeeze us in. Puh-puh-please?! They made us fit between two other appointments.

I rearranged my work schedule to make sure I would be home when Isa got off the bus, since I didn't know how long he would take to change the tire. When I called him after she got home, he said he was at the gas station because it was low, not flat. He was short tempered and grumpy because he said he didn't feel well.

So, I told him that we were taking it to the mechanic anyways. He's had a slow leak forever, and I had already made the appointment. I met him there, then dropped him and the kids off at the house (car-less) while I went to work for the night.

I called him after speaking to the mechanic and said that we would be spending a small fortune, but that it would be ready tonight. I asked him if he wanted a friend to go with him to pick it up when they were done, that way the kids could go to bed at their normal time. Since I didn't get off work until about an hour after bedtime, he was going to need to keep them up otherwise so we could go get his car. He said no, he didn't want to go with a friend, that it'd be okay to wait until I got home. Again, more sick grumpy husband.

When I got off work around 9 PM, I called him. No answer. Called again. And again. Finally, he answered the phone, groggy. I asked if he was sleeping. Yup. I asked if the kids were in bed. Yup. UGH. I asked him how we were going to get his car then, and he asked me why I was mad. UGH. I basically hung up.

I called an amazing friend and neighbor and asked her if she could help me pick up the car. She agreed. And, when I got home, our living room was a small disaster. Dinner plates were still on the floor (we are cleaning and the dining room table is messy). Socks on the couch. Pillows everywhere. The kitchen was (and still is) a mess, but I'll get it tomorrow.

I get it. I do. He's sick. He doesn't feel well. But seriously, if I'm sick, the world requires that I get off my butt and keep going. I rarely get to just give up and go to bed. And when I do, I get crap from him: he accuses me of being sick all the time, of making it up, of exaggerating, etc. I usually feel so guilty that I can't even rest and end up getting up and doing housework, taking care of the kids, and whatnot anyways.

Either way, I'm grumpy with him tonight. I was wanting to paint, but now have a headache and no time to do much of anything at all anyways. Ugh. Me so grumpy. Poo. On my shoe.

At least it's cute poo...



My Hypocondriac Husband

After being very exposed to the contagious MRSA, Jose began to panic at every bump, cut, and marker markings that he saw on our children.

Then, last week, on Thursday, he texted me to tell me that he needed to go to the doctor. "Why?" I asked. He said that he googled the symptoms of MRSA (fever, muscle ache, headache, lightheaded, sore throat, etc.) and he thought he had it. I asked if he had any open and infected wounds, to which he replied no. I told him that he was being dramatic, but to go ahead and go to the doctor (since he hasn't gone in years).

So, he went. And she confirmed that he was indeed being paranoid. The verdict: a cold.

Since then, he has acted like he was dying. I took the kids to a friend's house Thursday night, then we all lazied around Friday night. On Saturday, we stayed pretty lazy too (but there's a whole 'nother story there on Saturday) and then we went out for his birthday Saturday night while my mom babysat. And today still. He would be awful to deal with if he had something serious.

Hopefully, his immune system (the same one that has only allowed him to get sick about three times in the last ten years) kicks in soon because I'm tired of babying him. Hehehe!

Empty Your Baggage.

I have come full circle with the Father Fiction book.

I have read the entire book once through. I have blogged the entire book once through. I will now, after completing this post, tuck the book on it's shelf and leave it there, until I feel the need to pick it up again. The "God nudge" to look at it, read a specific thought or chapter, just when I need it. I feel certain that it will not be on my shelf, gathering dust, for long.

In coming full circle, I have blogged through most of the book, chapter through chapter, highlighting lines, paragraphs, thoughts that have struck me and my life. I strongly encourage you to get the book, either from amazon (linked above), another online site, a local bookstore, or even the library (but then you can't write all in it like I did!). And in coming full circle, I have now reached the last chapter. The chapter that hit me the hardest when reading it. The chapter that fueled this post on January 6th.

"When you forgive, you bear the burden that somebody else has given you without holding them accountable."

With forgiveness: "There was still pain, we still might be paying the price for the wrong that was done to us. It's just that we weren't going to make the other person pay for what they'd done; we'd forgiven them."

It strikes me that I can see such growth in so few months. There were things that I had forgiven for two months ago, but there were things that I still held deep inside. It's odd, but the other post was written right when I began counselling, right when I began to learn how to forge healthy boundaries. And forgiveness is very closely entertwined with boundaries, at least for me.

Am I perfect at forgiveness? Not even close. Do I complain about someone doing me wrong? Unfortunately. Do I forgive immediately? Ha. Do I eventually try and try and try to let it go and forgive? Yep. But the key word is eventually.

Does forgiveness mean forgetting? Do you allow someone to come back into your life after they hurt you, time and time and time again, because you forgive them? Every single situation is different. I cannot tell you how to forgive or how to work your way through your situation, because it is yours.

Did I forgive my husband for his affair? Yea. And we have worked our way through it, day by day, sometimes minute by minute, until he has earned my trust and my heart back. And I have to continually forgive him every time that hurt rises back up inside of me.

Do I forgive my dad for being an alcoholic? Yea. But, I have made the decision to not allow him back into our lives at this point until he is sober and reliable. And I feel secure in that decision. For years, I have allowed him to come right back in without no accoutability or even discussion about his drinking problem. Now, it is unstable for my kids and I have put my foot down. Does not having him in my life mean that I have not forgiven him? No. I love him. I forgive him fully. But I will not subject myself and my children to be hurt by his habits.

Do you have an abusive relationship? Is your significant other cheating? Gambling? Addicted to something? Do you have a friend who drains the life out of you? Do you have a long time grudge against someone? Think through the people in your life. Work to forgive them, and pray to know if that means moving forward with them or without them.

I have been freed by learning how to forgive. It wasn't about giving them pardon. Half the time, the other people in my life do not even KNOW that I have forgiven them for something that hurt me. But, over time, forgiveness gives you this weightlessness that you cannot even imagine if you haven't felt it before. Your heart is light and you are not burdened by these emotions and pains of wrongdoings. You may still have the consequences, but the drag of holding onto it is gone.

The what if's go away when you forgive...

What if my husband didn't have sex with her? What if he just stayed here with me? What if I didn't find her on that social networking site bringing her back into our lives? What if I was a better wife? What if I had loved him more?

What if my dad never drank? What if my dad moved back to Colombia when I was a kid? What if he had loved me enough to quit when I was born? What if he had loved my mom more? What if he wasn't such a slut? What if he was born here instead of South America? What if I was a better daughter? What if he had gotten custody of me?

They disappear. Because what if's are a waste of time. And forgiveness shows that to you. It shows you that it's okay how it is. That you can't change the past, that you've forgiven the past, and now, you look forward, towards the future.

I No Longer Want Normal and Boring.

About three weeks ago, I cried out and begged to be boring, to have a boring life. To be mundane and normal. After bad weather and sickness and a kidney infection and a whole list of things that were unplanned and disrupted my idea of what needed to happen, I was frustrated and just needed normalacy and for life to be calm and quiet.

Then, I got some texts and calls that showed me that life was not going to be "normal" soon.  I had a week between the three kids where I was unable to do much work hours at all. I became frustrated and grumpy. All I wanted was calm and quiet, not more and more insanity. The icing on the cake was that we were throwing my sons birthday party this past weekend. I didn't even want to celebrate. I grew so bitter and angry. Why me? And despite the posts that I had written about self-pity, I felt some of it deep inside me.

We got swept into a life of crazyness, and none of it was our own doing. We didn't create the situation bringing my nephew into our house. We didn't make the kids get sick or make the snow/ice cover the streets, cancelling school. We didn't infect our babysitter. And all of this happened right after I cried out for God to make our life peaceful. We got arguements, grumpiness, sadness, tears, temper tantrums, mean and angry texts and phone calls, screaming matches with my husband, etc.

But, I have been posting about how these things, these times of struggle, bring us closer to God. And then, I just read this:

"The Franciscan priest Richard Rohr points out that Native Americans have a tradition of leaving a blemish in one corner of the rug they are weaving because they believe that's where the spirit enters. I can relate to the rugs. I want desparately for things to go 'how they're supposed to.' Which is another way of saying 'how I want them to,' which is another way of saying 'according to my plan.' And that, as we all know, isn't how it works. But it's in that disappointment, in that confusion, in that pain - the pain that comes from things not going how I wanted them to - that I find the same thing happening, again and again. I come to the end of myself, to the end of my power, the end of my strength, the end of my understanding, only to find in that place of powerlessness a strength and peace that weren't there before. I keep discovering that it's in the blemish that the Spirit enters." [an excerpt from the book Drops Like Stars by Rob Bell]

Ok, so crap. Seriously, in the margin, I wrote, "Holy crap. This is me. This is my life."

I desparately want boring, but I cannot grow with boredom like I can through struggling. It's like that muscle analogy that I posted about earlier this week with the Father Fiction book. (See, it really is surrounding me.) I need to have those places in my life where I am weak, where I am imperfect, where the Holy Spirit can enter into me and my life.

Otherwise, we return to that place where we are bored. Where we were before the affair when we become so "comfortable" that we no longer try, that we give up, that we do not struggle and turn to God and fight our battles, but where we are so numb that we don't move forward.

"If we aren't careful, our success and security and abundance can lead to a certain sort of boredom, a numbing predictability, a paralyzing indifference that comes from being too comfortable...Death by wallpaper and flooring." [Also an excerpt from Drops Like Stars.]

So, I may need to change my prayers and my plea and my cry for my life. I don't want to be boring and dull and comfortable. But, if God feels like He can ease my load a little, I'm okay with that...hehe. But, I need to continually remember to chose to to look at my trials and struggles as opportunity, not punishment.

My Husband Forgets Things

A few years ago, he began this bad habit of forgetting his cell phone at home when he went to work, causing me to have no way to contact him. This was occurring about two or three times a week. Finally, I told one of his co-workers (and one of my friends) to let him know that the next time that he left his cell phone at home, I was going to shove it so far up his a** that when I called him, his tonsils would vibrate. Needless to say, he seemed to gain the ability to remember his cell phone much better after that.

Then, we began to battle about him leaving diapers on the floor after he changes Teo. When he changes him before bed or first thing in the morning, he would just leave the diaper laying on the rug in Teo's bedroom. I began to threaten that each diaper left would find it's way into his car. He's not great at it, but it's gotten better.

When he takes leftovers to work for lunch, he has this habit of leaving the containers in a plastic bag in his car for a week or so (no matter whether is it 80 degrees outside or not) and then, when he cleans out his car, he leaves the entire bag, with the plastic container and the nasty food inside, on the counter for me to wash when I do the other dishes. After I started gagging after opening one, I have began to threaten that those containers would be placed in his pillowcase, open, if he didn't take care of them. He doesn't wash them, (I think he throws them away) but at least I don't have to either.

Our newest battle is the late night snacks and drinks. He will get a snack and/or something to drink around 9 PM. Then, he fails to put his dishes in the sink when he goes to bed, no matter how many times I remind him. I'm getting tired of telling him to clean up after himself, but don't even have enough creativity to give him a threat. Last night, there was a coffee cup on the table from the coffee that I made him this evening and a open bottle of A&W Root Beer, half full still, tucked carefully between piles of laundry. Both of which I kindly asked him to take care of before he went to bed. I think I need a threat. Any ideas?

And although I didn't think of a creative threat to reinforce his cleaning up after himself, I did make sure to lay out his workshirt for today...with the coffee cup, the open bottle of root beer, and his empty bowl of cereal (which I found next to the chair) sitting on top of it...

My Husband's Date Without Me

My hubby is on a "man date" tonight.

In all honesty, it's humorous, but very significant at the same time.

First, the significant:

I cannot remember a night in the last year and a half or so since the affair when I have let him leave for such a long period of time without freaking out.

He has had the opportunity to do a couple things, like go to a movie alone or run to do shopping, but it's never been more than a couple hours. And even then, I have tracked him using the GPS on his phone (don't ask, but it's honestly not as stalkerish as it sounds). As I write this, he is still out and it's been over six hours. I never even thought twice about trusting him.

It's also significant because this is the first time since the affair that he has hung out with a male friend that I approve of. About a year ago, he went to hang out with a couple friends a couple times, but one of his "friends" in particular is not on my list of people that I like him with. This particular friend was there, during the affair, doing nothing short of patting Jose on the back for going through with it and getting away with it. Needless to say, I don't really care if he stops hanging around.

So, tonight has definately been eye opening that things are better between us, at least regarding the trust issues. Praise God!

Now, the humorous:

I am friends with the wife of the man that my husband is out with. Didja get that? Hehe. Here's a better understanding...Jose is on his "man" date with my friend, T's, husband. So, on Wednesday, I was on the phone with T and she was joking, "So, I heard your hubby and my hubby have a man date!" Jose overheard and started being all resistant to calling it a man date. Hence the joke began.

It gained momentum when Jose came home from work early and stated, "I'm picking Steve up at 5:30. Can I wash my car first?" Um. Okay. Hehe. Then, he primped and showered and got all dressed. I teased him that he was wearing his new jeans that make his butt look good for Steve. He told me to be quiet. Hehehe!

I did, however, leave Steve a note. Written on Jose's hand, it says, "Steve - Please do not hold my husbands hand on your man date. - Carla" and when Jose left, I called T (because we were already texting, but I got lazy) and she informed me that she was going to have Steve give Jose some Valentine's candy to start off their man date! Hahaha!

We are just awful to our husbands! They are such good guys to put up with our crap!

So, Jose, if you read this...or Steve, if you read this...I am glad that you two are friends. I am glad that I do not have to worry about who my husband is spending time with and that there is a great connection between two great guys. I hope you enjoyed your food court dinner, stupid movie (at least, it looks stupid to me), and your many hours shooting pool at the billards hall. You have my permission to have regular man dates from now on. (Plus, it helps that tomorrow, Jose's staying home with the kids so that I can go to a roller derby bout with T!)

Have a good weekend friends!

Let's Talk Sex

More Father Fiction posting and reflection. This time, a fun topic. Sex.

For the past six weeks, our church has been having a sermon series focused on this very topic. Yes, you read that correctly. For the last six weeks, leading up to a seminar we will be having Saturday, we have been talking about SEX in church!

And, now, with my review of the book, it's a topic again.

Donald Miller writes:

"I think we can think nobody is affected by our actions, by our habits, but they are. We aren't independent creatures, we know. We are all connected. And in a family, in marriage, it's important that sex be something special, and as men, it's important we take the initiative in protecting it."

Sex is a form of communication and bonding between two individuals, ideally in a covenant marriage, and when that becomes tainted, it can affect the entire system to fail if you let it. I learned first hand the effects of this.

However, Donald Miller goes farther when closing the chapter by writing:

"The great arguement, then, is not whether sex is good or bad outside of a relational commitment, but whether sex is for anything other than the release of pleasure. There is no scientific evidence to suggest that sex is for bonding. Common sense tells us sex bonds people, but science can't go into the poetic. The tendency, when pleasure drives logic, is to reduce sex to a dry Darwinian definition, ignoring the poetry of our bodies. And this doesn't sound like much of a crime, until we remember the arguement about the value of a dollar. Poetry, then, matters. What we feel about something, what we agree about for the sake of health and progress, becomes critical. I think of sex this way, not only because this is the way God thinks about sex, but because logically, even apart from some sort of Christian morality, the poetic interpretation has to be upheld."

Anyone who knows any element of my life story knows that I did not wait to have sex until I was married. I was pregnant with Isa when I said "I do." I was fortunate though, because the man who took my virginity is the one that I ended up marrying. I have never had sex with anyone other than Jose.

However, he was not a virgin when we met. He was, in my eyes, an experienced man-skank (sorry honey!) because he had been with more women than I cared to know about and he had lost his virginity about five years earlier, and in many instances, they were girls that he wasn't even in a relationship with. Then, he had his affair to add another name to his list.

The thing is, the act of sex itself was not the part of the affair that bothered me the most, but it was that he chose to do this personal and intimate act with someone other than me, other than the person that he has pledged his life to. And to think that I had to share this "secret" part of our life with someone else is what tore me apart. To think of our sex life (okay, if the blog doesn't have a content warning on it, it will now) and what it was, as Donald Miller says, "poetry" and to think that he shared that with someone else is what hurt. It's vague and very abstract, but it's true.

That's what is so special about sex. It's not the physical actions or the medical definition; there's a *spark* of connection, bonding that cannot be experienced quite the same through other activities. And that is what needs to remain sacred.

I do think that sex is like any other fallen element of life, however, and I don't know that we speak about it much. But if you fail, if you are sinful and have sexual relationships outside of the context that God created sex to be, there is the path of asking for forgiveness, repenting, changing your behaviors. And, the consequences may not disappear, and physically, you will stay the same, but your heart can be changed. God can renew your heart to a place that you are able to use sex within marriage as a beautiful and poetic thing. And, that, is what is the best news possible when talking about sex. God wants us to have a pure and amazing reflection of sex. It does not need to be dirty or gross or emotionally painfully. It was created by Him for a purpose, and He wants us to enjoy it, within the proper contexts.

And so often, it's swept under the rug and locked up in a dark closet. So sex becomes taboo. But it doesn't need to be. It shouldn't be.

Confessions of a Real Life Mommy #14, 15, & 16

#14. I cannot wait until spring. Not because of the weather, but because Isa is outgrowing her pants and I need her to be able to wear flood pants capri pants without raising questions because I don't want to buy new jeans.

#15. Last Sunday, Jose and I slept in. Isa and Teo woke up and went downstairs to watch a movie. Isa made them cereal and they were quiet. When we began to get ready for church, we figured out why they were so well behaved. There was a trail of Hershey Kiss wrappers that stretched from the foyer (where a bag was located in Isa's backpack from her Valentine's Party at school) all the way through the living room, dining room and kitchen. I believe they ate at least half a bag. I secretly laughed a lot. And deep down, I was still very thankful for being able to sleep past 8 AM.

#16. Also on Sunday, less than an hour of finding out about the Hershey Kiss raid, we grabbed fast food for breakfast on the way to church. Not thinking, Jose ordered three diet sodas. Yes, after our kids ate half a bag of chocolate, we gave them soda. At least it was diet, right? [It was just a rough morning all the way around!]

An Education In Ebay

So, last night, Jose was on the computer as I sat at the table chatting with a friend. He was quiet, but at one point asked me to help him. I asked what he needed help with, but he never responded, so I figured that he was doing okay.

[Let me interject that my husband is computer impaired. Aside from the hunt and peck typing, I have had to teach him basically everything about how to use a computer and the internet. He's not stupid, but just not the most savvy.]

Then, he came and sat down at the chair next to me. He looked serious as he asked, "If you are the highest bidder, do you have to buy it?"

My jaw dropped. My friend laughed and asked what he bid on.

"A phone."

Finally, I found words and asked how much he bid.

"Like $80."

I stared at him, speechless. So he continued to talk.

"I don't even want it. I was just messing around. I didn't know that I had to buy it."
I asked how much longer was on the auction, hoping that he'd be outbid before it ended. He just asked me to try to cancel it, so I sat at the computer. The auction had less then three minutes remaining and he was the highest bidder.

Then...he won. 



Fortunately, I thought to email the seller. Here is the message that they recieved, and I can only imagine the snickering that happened on the other end of the email:

"I want to apologize in advance, then I want to ask you what can be done. My husband decided that he *needs* a new phone. So, he got onto ebay, on my account, and started bidding on things, not understanding a darn thing about what auctions are, what ebay is, etc. Then, about ten minutes ago, he came and asked, if you win a bid, do you have to buy it? Uh. I nearly lost it. So, he bid on this phone, not even wanting it. Just to see how it worked. Needless to say, I am not happy with him right now. Is there any way to cancel the order? I know that once a bid is placed and confirmed, it's done. And I understand if you want us to follow through with our order. We will. I just wondered if there was anything that could be done? Thank you. And I am so sorry."

Within moments, I got an email asking for confirmation to cancel the order. Needless to say, Jose will not be allowed on ebay anytime soon...

A Post About Love and Marriage...Never Woulda Guessed on Valentine's Day...

There are a couple chapters in Father Fiction by Donald Miller dedicated to dating, sex, love, etc. so I figured it would be fitting to Valentine's Day.

In talking about romantic relationships, there is a paragraph that I found that I highlighted, underlined, made notes about and basically tagged as vital for me and my life. It says:

"We are not going to get the love we really need from each other. We are going to get it from God, in heaven. Until then, we have an awesome opportunity to practice God's love with each other. We get to commit to each other, we get to try to love unconditionally (at which point we will understand how amazing God is), we get to serve each other by being more attractive to our mates, we get to bring children into the world and take care of them, we get to share our lives with a family. And we get to improve our character. Those are the reasons we should be looking for a mate. Any other motive for getting into a relationship is going to let us down."

Oh. Crap.

Did I fail my marriage when I said "I do." No. However, through the last five (almost six) years of being married, and the nearly 10 years that we have been together, have we had our share of disappointments and let downs? Yes. My expectations, in honesty, we not God-centered. My hopes, my dreams, they were fairy tale at most. So, of course I was let down. Of course, I was disappointed. I had this Hollywood vision of marriage, not an honest faith-based one.

Have I reached this point of loving unconditionally and practicing God's love? No. But I would like to think that I am trying. And, has Jose reached this point? No. But he is trying too. And by watching him strive to become a man of God (especially knowing where his faith walk had taken him), I fall more and more in love with him every day.

Would I change things, if I were to go back and re-do them? No. I would be afraid to. Yes, you read that right...with all the fights, the nights of sleeping alone, the screaming, the throwing things (that would be me), the cussing (again, mostly me), the lying, the cheating, the broken trust, the affair, the other child...I would not change a thing. I am afraid, that had everything not happened the way that it did, that my husband would not be here with me, in love with me, in love with God. And I fear that I would not have worked so hard to save our marriage, to build our faith. And I would fear that we would continue to live a life of false nature, pretending to go through the motions happily, but stuck in a nightmare of non-loving, non-caring, and distrust.

So, for those of you friends who are married or in a committed relationship, would you change your expectations? Do you see fault in your view of your relationship based on what Donald Miller pointed out? And for those who are single and looking, do your expectations meet what is described above? Do you think that adjusting your goals would help your search for a mate?

And, for my husband, Jose Manuel...I love you. More and more every single day. I love to sit and watch you play with the kids. I love to see your strong, yet gentleness while you wrestle and roll around on the floor with them. I love to see you cuddle up with Teo and Isa as you watch a movie or read a book. And I love to peek as you tuck them in at night. You're my gentle giant with the kids. Additionally, I love to spy on you as you cook dinner, with a determination that I cannot understand. And to see you serve me and the kids by cleaning or picking up gives me great joy. I love to hold your rough hands and to stroke your soft cheek. I love to give you eskimo kisses and to press my lips against yours when the kids are preoccupied. I love to try to be held by you, only to have a 30 and a 40 lb. weight quickly latch on to each arm, yelling and screaming, "EEEWWW!" I love to look through photos with you, enjoy a coffee with you, watch a movie with you. I enjoy our time together, whether talking or doing a project around the house. I love watching you move as you work. I love your laugh and making you giggle is a joy. I love that you can always put a smile on my face and make me laugh, even if I am so pissed off at you at the moment. I love the way you disappear for hours to do a project (even if it makes me angry at the time) and although I get angry, I will never stop loving you. I love that we can talk through our problems now, instead of turning to other things or people to find a false relief, and although I hate that you had the affair, I love the man that it has changed you into. You are my husband. The only man that I want to spend the rest of my life with. There is no one else in the world that I want to be with. Only you. Happy Valentine's Day. I love you.

Lazy Sundays

Sundays = Lazy Days.

Sundays are the day when we *try* to be lazy, do nothing, and just hang out. Today, I believe we succeeded...at least, the kids and I did.

Our morning began by waking up late. Like half hour before church started late. So, we threw the family together quickly, got drive thru breakfast (horrible parenting, I know!), and drove to church. We were arriving there exactly on time....

But I realized that I forgot something. So, I begged Jose to turn around and go home so I could grab it, plus it gave us an extra five minutes or so to eat breakfast. Ran in the house, grabbed what I needed, drove back to church. Breakfast was eaten. We were only about ten minutes late when we pulled into the parking lot. The very very full parking lot.

So, we proceeded to drive down the super long snowy and icy alley and circled the block to try to find street parking. The entire street was covered with cars or piles of snow, and if we were to park, it would have been at least a block or two away. Plus, we were about twenty minutes late at this point. We gave up.

Instead, we went to visit my grandma (whom the kids call Me-Me Mamaw) and two uncles at their house. The kids played, Jose watched Chuck Norris, and I talked to my grandma for an hour or two before heading back home.

When we got home, none of us were hungry although it was noon. Blame the late breakfast. So, we napped. All four of us, kinda. Isa played most the time, but I slept good and Teo slept good and I believe Jose was sleeping too on the couch. Around 2:30 PM, his cell rang so I sent Isa downstairs with it and soon heard Jose leave to help his sister move. We then continued our nap until about 4 PM. It was awesome.

After waking up, I fed the kids a late and light "lunch" of leftover spaghetti and fresh fruit. Then, we played and cleaned a little bit. And cleaned and played some more. Jose got home just in time to make frozen pizza and watch "The Funnies" (America's Funniest Home Videos) with the kids. Teo laughing at videos is the best part! And, about a half hour ago, the kids went to bed. Although the little one is still up. I hear him playing with his drum..

So lazy. We are so lazy. Today was the perfect Sunday (although it would have truely been perfect if Jose had been able to stay and be lazy with us the entire time)! I love lazy Sundays!

Valentine's Date Night

 

So, in an attempt to be romantic, this morning, Jose texted to say he was leaving work early and taking me shopping for clothes. After balancing the checkbooks, we got into a text arguement because I said we couldn't afford it and that I really didn't need to buy new clothes, I just needed laundry to be done. He grew upset at me. I was saddened by it all.

Therefore, when he got home, the fight continued slightly, until I was crying because I hate managing our money and said that I don't even like clothes shopping. So, we agreed to grab a nice lunch (since most restaurants tonight would be packed with dates) and he could go buy a couple pairs of jeans and I could buy scrapbooking stuff.

After a lunch at Flat Top and a ton of errands, we went to Big Lots (the best place in the world to buy packets of scrapbook paper, in my opinion) and Burlington Coat Factory. Then, it was time to get Isa and my nephew off the bus, pick up Teo, drop off my nephew, and take the kids to my mom. On our way back towards the house, we got stuck in some major traffic due to a warehouse fire downtown, which led to a very frustrated driver (Jose) and a passenger trying to lighten the mood by cracking bad jokes and playing a game of would you rather (me).

After learning that Jose would rather have his feet double in size than his hands, have a car that ran on urine instead of poop, and a wife with no arms instead of no legs, we arrived at the mall. We did a quick meal at the food court, went to Michaels for more amazing shopping (I got a Cricut cartridge that I'm dying to use, a ton more of paper, and lots of stickers), and to the theater to watch Gnomeo and Juliet (sooo cute!!!).

Then, back home to find an awesome surprise: the neighbors left us a goodie bag with muffins and candy!

What an amazing (early) Valentine's Day! It may be one of the best ever!

I Hate Being An Adult.

Hate. Hate. HATE IT!

I wanna flop around on the ground and yell and cry and scream.
I wanna throw things and kick my feet.
I wanna STOMP.

I hate responsibility.
I hate being responsible.
I hate being an adult.

I want to, just once, do something without worrying about what it costs.
I want to, just once, do something without worrying about the future consequences.
I want to, just once, be selfishly indulgent and do whatever I want, without knowing it's not the responsible choice.

Ugh.

I hate bills.
I hate debt.
I hate money.

I hate costs.
I hate living expenses.
I hate finances.

I hate being frugal.
I hate being broke.
I hate being responsible.

Seriously, why can't I just spoil myself occassionally without feeling racked with GUILT for whatever money I spend?!

Jose offered to take me shopping for Valentine's Day. I was excited. The thought of a couple new pairs of jeans was good. (I honestly don't remember buying clothes in about two years.) But then, I balanced our checkbook. And, no, we're not in super debt or anything. I know I should be grateful that we can pay our bills and have money left over. But, I feel like we need to focus on paying off our debt so everything left over should go to that, not for jeans. Plus, we have a (cheap) date night planned, but I'm sure that Jose will now cancel that because he gets all upset about money.

I HATE MONEY.
I HATE BEING AN ADULT.

And You Wonder Why We Aren't Connecting...?

So, I spent the day telling Jose how much I missed him via text since he left for work before I awoke, then went straight from work to donate plasma and straight from donating plasma to help his sister move. He stopped, literally, for five minutes at home to drop off Valentine cards that he bought for Isa to take to school. He came home around 10:30 PM.

We then continued to pay bills and look for lost things in the house and whatnot. Now, we are sitting in the living room and he's eating a snack, so I asked if I can share something that I wrote here, on my blog (since he doesn't read it).

He then proceeded to talk about how messed up a situation was with a stolen car and an impound lot.

I agreed that it was wrong, but it's how the system is set up. Then I asked again if I could read him a blog post.

He failed to answer me. Family Guy is on.

Sometimes, I should just not try.

We Don't Really DO Valentine's Day, But...

For us, Valentine's Day is rarely a big deal. The only year that it really was anything special was 2005. That is the year when Jose bought me a beautiful ring in January to propose, but it was back ordered and whatnot, so as of Valentine's Day, it still hadn't arrived. However, on Valentine's Day, we went to the clinic and it was confirmed that we were about to be parents.

So, this year, I've not thought much about it. We don't do gifts or flowers or candies or much at all. However, since Isa's now in school, I realized that they have a card exchange tomorrow. And, so Jose came by and dropped off Valentine stuff for her class before running out again to help his sister move tonight. So, he will be coming home to this:

I guess I may be convinced to do a little something for future years, but it may always be construction paper and string...

Just Because I Know You Are Dying To Ask...

So, as the day nears it's end, I know you are dying to ask me a few questions. So, to save you the burning feeling inside your mind...I'll answer them (because, of course, I'm already knowing what you would ask).

Q: How do I feel?
A: Right this second, not too bad. I have the heating pad on my back and took another dosage of drugs a couple hours ago that have recently kicked in. I do however have a migraine, which is weird because one of the drugs I took was a pain reliever. I have officially taken three doses of my antibiotics, but this evening around seven, my fever returned and although it didn't go quite so high, it did hit about 101 before my medicine kicked in and took it down.

Q: How is my dad?
A: I don't know. He has not contacted me at all from jail this time. I have spoken to his (soon to be ex) wife via phone and text, but not much. She said something today about him possibly doing 6-12 months in rehab instead of staying in jail, so that'd be interesting.

Q: How is work going?
A: I love it so much. I never dreamed that I could have such a wonderfully perfect job(s) that allowed me to have flexibility and do what I love so much. I seriously never realized that a job could be so amazing. I am able to use my wide array of God-given skills to do a wide variety of tasks to serve Him and others in the community. I seriously love it!

Q: How are the kids?
A: Well, Teo recieved a much needed haircut yesterday. And Isa is her normally mouthy self anymore. I love them both dearly, and Mondays and Tuesdays are the worst days in the week because I work 12 hours and don't see them at all (except to get Isa ready for school). Teo is learning to talk much more (even though it's still quite garbled) and is becoming more able to play alone. Isa is learning to read (which is so awesome) but still can't tie her shoes. Aside from her attitude issues, she's growing into quite a strong and beautiful young lady.

Q: How is my marriage?
A: Good. The weekend away was much needed and removed a lot of our tension. My recent illness crap has made things a little rough, simply because I am too tired and in too much pain to help much around the house, but we did nearly complete the dining room, so that continues to keep us smiling. I haven't thought about the affair much lately, so slowly but surely, it's becoming "normal" again.

Q: How's heARTworks?
A: So awesome. I am amazed at how successful it has become and have a couple orders that I need to finish up. This being sick crap has made me behind a bit, but it'll even out soon. I am looking forward to a couple of the larger projects coming up!

So, that's enough of question and answer time...I'm exhausted and am going to bed...

Seriously though, if you could ask me just one question, what would it be (feel free to ask anoynmously)? I will answer them soon!

Sometimes, I Think Our House HATES Us...

Never in my life have I expected or realized the weird and random problems which arise from being a homeowner.

In four years, we have seen more weird crap that I didn't even know COULD happen. Like this week.

On Wednesday, we got this snow storm. It left us with this pile of snow about a foot tall outside. It also left a pile of snow on the little section of roof that is like a widow's lookout off the master bedroom. There is a door that allows us to walk out, but after the storm, we were unable to open the door.

No biggie...until Thursday night, when I went into the downstairs bathroom, only to notice that there was water dripping down the light fixture. So, upon thinking and investigating, we realized the culprit...the roof.

Because of the snow, we were unable to get out the door, so we cut the screen out and I went out onto the roof. That's when we realized that after the snowfall, the heat from the house had caused the snow to melt. There was about 6 inches of snow on top of three inches of ice which was sitting on top of about two inches of water. Add to the fact that our gutters are straight frozen and it just let the roof hold the water. Just sitting there. And finding it's way into the house.

So, at 9 PM, we went out and took the shovel and removed all the snow and ice and as much of the water as possible from the roof. And the leaking stopped. For the moment.

This morning, the kids were getting ready and I noticed a large puddle on the bathroom floor again, so Jose went back onto the roof to remove the snow and water that accumulated after the small storm that came yesterday.

So, I guess we have a new project to add to our to do list this spring... Boo!

Snow Man, Snow Boy, and Snow Girl

On Wednesday, we decided to make the most of the snow day. After I spent most of the day locked in my bedroom working, Jose and the kids went out to play in the snow and shovel. I couldn't resist following them out to snap a couple photos of the blizzard-ish snow.

Such a fiesty little snowgirl...not quite yet covered in snow.

The cutest little snowman. He's smiling...can't you tell?

While the snowman shovels, the snowman "throws" snowballs at him.

I looked over and the snowgirl was eating snow.

The cutest snowpeople ever. I love them.

And this is how my snowboy liked to eat snow...fortunately, his "mouth" was unable to get too cold.

Miracle Health & Spontaneous House Projects

So, when I woke up today, I felt like death. Live in the bathroom death. I hated my body and everything that it was putting me through, but I scraped myself off the ground and pushed forward. It worked fairly well, until around 1 pm. That's when I decided that I needed to nap. The two hour time span in the middle of the night when my body decided to keep me awake and running to the bathroom for no reason really had taken its toll on me. So, I called and made sure to cancel an afternoon appointment and when I did, was able to speak to one of the most amazing women that I know.

When I told her that I was ill and wouldn't be able to keep the meeting and asked her to pass the message along to the right person, she immediately asked to pray with me over the phone. I swear that this makes no sense whatsoever, but immediately, as she was praying, I felt like my insides were being pieced back together and aside from being sleepy, my ailments were diminished.

[Let me insert my side note here. I am not, by any means one of those people that believe that you can speak in tongues or lay hands on people and taa-daa, they are healed, but this woman has a spiritual gift with prayer. I know it is true. She continually offers prayer and always, always, always calms my nerves with her words to God. And today, there is nothing else that I can think of other than her prayers and it sends shivers down my spine.]

I went to sleep only to be woken an hour later from a deep sleep. A friend had texted me and I felt like I needed to respond. Then, after laying there a moment, I realized that I wasn't tired. And I felt wonderful.

I texted Jose and said that I was hungry. Like, haven't eaten in five days hungry and requested going out for dinner. Soon, he got home from work and Isa got off the bus and we went out for an amazing Mexican dinner, then went shopping at Menards. While there, we decided to buy paint. One gallon of paint for the dining room. For about a year, we have had paint cards tucked into the doorway of the french doors trying to decide how to best match the walls so that you couldn't tell we made the repair. Today, on a whim, we bought a totally different shade of green and came home to paint the entire dining room.

Yes. It's true. We came home and after tucking the kids into bed, repainted the entire dining room in two hours. And, the best part is, we even took a break. The break came when we were painting and I said that I really wanted a snack, and I was thinking that mint chocolate chip ice cream sounded amazing, and before I could finish my thought, Jose blurted out that he wanted mint chocolate chip ice cream. Our walls are the color of mint (it's called Spring Green). The trim is a beautiful chocoate stain color. I am in love.

The best part, and the part that I want to remember forever is this:

As we were painting, Jose was uncertain at first. He's not the biggest fan of my color choices and he steers away from bright colors, but as we began to see the walls come together, he admitted that he liked it. A lot. And he said, "It's not that the old color was bad, but it was just sad, like we were all gloomy and sad all the time...."

To which I replied, "Maybe we were sad all the time, so it suited us, but now, we're not, so this is better."

He agreed.

So, cheers! To new health. To new walls. To new life.

God is amazing!

House Projects: A Vent. Not About A Vent.

So, Jose has been continuously working on the wood trim in the dining room. I have been amazed and in awe with the persistance that he has put into this project. And despite it sucking him away from me at times, and despite the dust through out the house, and despite the noise and the smell, I have remained amazed. Of all the days that he has worked, I helped him once. One night only. The rest of the time, it has been his project. He has stripped paint. Sanded wood. Stained. Applied polyurethane. Sanded some more. And I have remained very proud of him.

But, since starting to stain last week, I have noticed spots where stain is thin or nonexistant. Where he has slacked off a little. And while I have spoken up slightly, such as "Honey, why don't you take off the doorknobs instead of staining around them?" I have not said much. I let him do his thing.

Except yesterday. He began to reassemble the room and I asked what he was doing.

"I'm done."

Oh. Really? I bit my tongue and looked around. There were spots that were completely forgotten. There were spots where the stain was uneven. There were spots where he just plain didn't seem to notice. So, I contemplated what to do.

Do I speak up and make him mad? It's been his pet project all month and he has done well on it overall, but these areas needed fixed. Or do I suck it up and not say anything? But then deal with it constantly bothering me until I insist in a year or two that we redo it.

So, I spoke up. And he got mad. Which caused me to shut up and shut down. I returned to my work upstairs and didn't say another word.

But then, he came upstairs. I was still on shut down mode though, so communication didn't exist and I ended up crying and he ended up leaving the room. But then, I felt bad, so I went to talk to him.

First thing to note: this would not have happened like this two or three years ago. We would have remained mad at each other until the issue was past us enough that it was shoved under the rug. Most likely, he would have gotten mad enough that he didn't finish the project at all and it would remain undone for months, until I got frustrated enough that I did it myself, all the while cussing about his lazy ways.

I pointed out, at his request, the areas that I was concerned with. Areas where the stain didn't take right or where he seemed to do one less coat of stain. And although he accused me of being "nitpicky," he listened.

And he fixed it. Less than an hour later, he called me downstairs to show me that he had fixed it and asking if it was better. And it is.

Second thing to note: I thank God for allowing us to communicate better now. Obviously, there are still leaps and bounds that we need to travel to make communication work for us, but this is way better than it was before. And for that, I am extremely grateful.