Showing posts with label good Hubs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good Hubs. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Sexy LOL ecards
I love these Someecards, they are so frickin' hilarious. I picked these ones out so I could text them to Hubs once in a while, when he's at work. ;)
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
More webcamming
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| Persuaded my shy guy to join me for some webcam pics. He's so sweet! And hot, mrrow! |
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| Showing Yajaira my "new mouth" after watching a youtube tutorial on how to get fuller-looking lips using makeup. "Now my lips are as big and pouty as yours!" lol (Some women have all the damn luck, eh?) |
Friday, March 16, 2012
Friday, January 21, 2011
Five Question Friday
1. Where did you meet your spouse and did you instantly know it was love?
The Story of Beau-and-Beau
Well, it was way back in 1997; I was 17 and almost done grade 12 high school. Before I'd ever even met him, I'd heard about this guy who had the same name as me, even spelt the same, but he was a real hard-partier and I was told I probably wouldn't like him. One day my friends and I were out at "the pit" (where the smokers hung out during breaks) and someone pointed to a guy with long brown hair, standing over by someone's truck talking to a group of guys. "That's him, that's Beau." Couldn't really see his face or anything but he seemed normal, nothing like what I pictured a 'hard-partier' to look like. Oh, okay, and I dismissed him from my mind. I kept hearing stories about this guy Beau, how he lived in a tiny house down behind A&W and always held parties at his house, like every night. I was invited to a party one weekend, held at my friend Jill's house. Her family was loaded and they lived in what I considered to be a mansion. Her parents were gone for the weekend and so she did what teenagers always do in movies, have a huge party when the parents are gone, haha. And just like in the movies, the house got completely trashed and poor Jill was freaking out, so I helped her shut the party down, kicked everyone out, we cleaned up a bit, and then decided to follow everyone to this guy Beau's house, as he'd said everyone could go there to continue the party. My first impression of his house was, GROSS. Very tiny, very dirty, and just packed with people. Someone puked on the floor. I stayed outside because the house was making me claustrophobic; the police came and sent everyone home. And I never did meet this Beau guy. A few weekends later, I was at another party in the country with my friend Christine; when it ended we got into her car to leave and suddenly there was this guy, banging on the window and asking for a ride back to Sylvan. It was Beau. So, because I kind of knew about him, I told Christine it would be okay and we let him get in. He was totally wasted and sloppy, sat beside me in the back wayyy too close, kept trying to take my seatbelt off, talked too loud and too much, at one point I think he tried to kiss me and I smacked him across the face. He was completely annoying and I couldn't wait to get back to Sylvan and dump this jerk at his house. I was not impressed. Flash forward a month later, about mid-June, I was looking to move out of my parent's house and asked my friends if they knew of anyone who needed a roommate. One friend mentioned this Beau guy again, saying he'd moved into a six-plex but that his roommate had just moved out and he needed another. I was leery, especially after that experience in the car. But the situation at home was getting really bad and I was desperate. I was working at A&W one afternoon and saw this guy outside walking by, long brown hair, deeply tanned, shirtless, with a huge Cerberus tattoo on his back. It was him, Beau! I rushed outside, ran up and grabbed his arm, introduced myself and explained how I was needing a place to live, would he consider me for a roommate. He seemed a little stunned but agreed that I could come over the next day after school to check the place out. He wasn't at all like he'd been that night, the complete opposite in fact, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and chalked his behaviour that night up to having one too many. So I agreed to go check out his place the next day. The first thing I saw when I walked in his apartment was him on hands and knees, vacuuming the baseboards in the livingroom. The place was spotless, so that was a nice surprise. We had an awkward little visit, me in my miniskirt perched hesitantly on his ratty old couch while he tried to put me at ease. He was a total sweetheart, very quiet and soft-spoken, very polite. He seemed a little in awe of me, which was a nice ego-stroke. And the rent was low, something I could easily cover with my paycheque and still have lots of money left over. So that was it, I moved in within the week. For that first month, July, we led our separate lives. I worked my morning shifts at A&W and partied every night with my friends; he was usually asleep when I left for work and gone by the time I returned. We rarely saw each other, which was absolutely fine by me. Then, in August, he started hanging out at the apartment more often. Suddenly every time I turned around, he was there. Always polite, always soft-spoken and kind, and he was funny. I realized it was kind of fun to have a roommate, someone to talk to about the rough day at work, watching tv together, etc. We started going to parties together, and it made me feel safe to know that I had this big guy watching my back. I saw that he kind of had a split personality; when sober he was introverted, when drunk just the opposite. I'll never forget the one night we had a big party at our apartment (which ended when a neighbor complained about the noise and we got shut down), so everyone decided to head down to the beach. Picture a huge group of drunken teenagers stumbling down the street, laughing and goofing around. Eventually we made our way to the pier and someone suggested we all jump off together as a group. Beau heard that and just started running for the edge of the pier, while us less-coordinated ones followed. Suddenly a pair of headlights turned on-- there was cop parked right there on the pier, behind some trees, probably waiting for just such an opportunity. But it was too late for Beau, he was already mid-jump. By the time he surfaced we were all standing there at the edge, looking down at him, laughing hysterically, while the cop stood with us, shining his flashlight down onto Beau's wet face and said, "Hello Beau, having a good night?" He sheepishly climbed out of the water and we were all sent home. So funny. But anyway, the more time I spent with him, seeing these dual aspects of his personality, the more I was intrigued. One night after a few drinks, he turned very morose and after some prompting, started talking about his childhood. You all know some of those details so I won't get into it, but he was just devastated, sobbing and so sad my heart was breaking for him. Now, during all this time spent together, I was still carrying on my partying ways, sneaking into the bar with my friends (who were all 18, I was the only underage one but the bouncer was a guy I went to school with who had a crush on me), hooking up with guys left and right. I had feelings for Beau but I didn't want to, so I used those other guys as distractions. And one day, after just such a night, Beau snapped. I guess he'd come home and seen another guy's shoes on the floor, heard enough to know what was going on, and spent the night seething and angry. When I woke up, he really let me have it. "So this is your life now, I guess, huh? This is who you want to be, what you want to be known for? The easy party-girl, the 'sure thing'. I thought you'd be different. I respected you. So smart, so beautiful, you could be anything, DO anything. I'm so disappointed in you right now, I can't... can't even..." and then he just turned around and left the apartment. It was like a bucket of ice water to the face, like a verbal slap. At first I was righteously angry. How dare he judge me, how DARE he presume to know my reasons for doing what I did. And as the day wore on and he didn't return so I could blast him back, then night, what he'd said really started to sink in. What the hell was I doing? Why? Did I really need the boost to my ego and self-esteem, knowing I could get any guy I wanted? What would my life be like if I continued down this path? And so it was a very different me that greeted him when he finally came home the next day. Gone was the cocky, arrogant girl who flirted to get her way, gone was this sexy-party-girl persona I'd created to hide my insecurities. I became the soft-spoken one. I dropped the act and started to be 'real' around him, comfortable for the first time that here was a person who actually preferred the true me. I didn't feel the need to hide behind sexy clothes. I could leave my room without having to apply a full face of makeup. I remember the first time I walked into the livingroom after waking up, in old ratty jammies, face freshly scrubbed, hair all crazy, and his face just transformed, lit up, huge grin. He was the first to ever see me like that, and he knew it. And so from then on, we became inseparable. He was more than just a roommate, more than a friend. He was so special to me. But I was still scared to let it be more than that; I didn't want to seem like that easy-girl again, and I didn't want a physical relationship to ruin it. Lets just say I really made him work for it, haha. Even once we did cross that line, I was leery about letting other people know that we were now 'together'. I didn't want it to seem like a cliche or like, Oh, she can't find a guy so she hooked up with the roomie. When we were around friends I was careful to not act like a girlfriend. I knew it hurt him, like he felt maybe I was ashamed of him or 'us', but he understood my feelings and so let me get away with it. One night though, walking home from a friend's house, a carload of people we knew drove by and saw us holding hands. "Oh-ho, its finally happened!" they yelled out the window. "You finally got your girl, eh Beau? Took ya long enough! Good for you, man, that's awesome!" and they drove away. I was stunned. What? 'Got his girl'? Just how long had he liked me that way? And no one teased us or made any rude comments, like I'd expected. When we got home, I questioned him and it all spilled out. How he'd seen me at the high school that one time at The Pit and been unable to take his eyes off me, but was told by his buddies that he didn't stand a chance, "she only goes for football players and jocks". How he'd invited everyone to his house that one time just so that I would come, even though we never did see each other that night. How he'd seen his chance to actually talk to me that night he asked for a ride home in Christine's car, how embarrassed he was that he acted that way but being so drunk and feeling so overwhelmed, he went a little crazy, trying to kiss me and take my seatbelt off so I'd sit in his lap (like THAT would have happened, crazy man). How he'd realized he'd blown whatever chance he'd had by his behaviour and had just resigned himself to seeing me occasionally and at a distance. And how that day when I'd ran up to him outside A&W and asked if he needed a roommate, how he felt that he'd been given a gift of a second chance. So he'd been on his best behaviour around me, wanting me to be comfortable and at-ease around him. How it killed him to see me become the party-girl, to see a different pair of shoes by the door every morning, how firmly I'd placed him in the 'just friends' category. How he'd almost decided to move out after that big blow-out because he just couldn't take it anymore. But that he was never more happier to have not made that decision when he returned home and saw that it was different now, I was different. How that morning when I allowed him to see the real me, no makeup, crazy hair, that he knew he just might have finally caught me. And so after I heard all this, and there was much more, I was overwhelmed (as to be expected) but here was this guy, laying his heart right out there, so afraid of rejection but taking that risk anyway, that he loved me unconditionally, the real me... I just couldn't help it. He had my heart from that moment. And the rest is history!
This is our song, and every time I hear it I'm taken back to that summer...
'Head Over Feet' by Alanis Morrissette
I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it
You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was
Chorus: You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service
Chorus
You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience
You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long
I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now
Chorus
2. What is your favorite room in your house?
The livingroom.
3. Can you wiggle your ears?
Well I can't make the actual ears wiggle but I can tighten and relax the muscles around my eyes/cheeks/forehead and it looks like my ears are wiggling. Can you do that?
4. What is your evening ritual?
Put the kids to bed, watch some tv with Hubs, play on the computer if he falls asleep, then wake him up when I'm ready for bed, wash my face (usually), set my alarm, then fall into bed with him, say goodnight in our way, then fall asleep.
5. How many hours of sleep do you need to function?
At least four.
The Story of Beau-and-Beau
Well, it was way back in 1997; I was 17 and almost done grade 12 high school. Before I'd ever even met him, I'd heard about this guy who had the same name as me, even spelt the same, but he was a real hard-partier and I was told I probably wouldn't like him. One day my friends and I were out at "the pit" (where the smokers hung out during breaks) and someone pointed to a guy with long brown hair, standing over by someone's truck talking to a group of guys. "That's him, that's Beau." Couldn't really see his face or anything but he seemed normal, nothing like what I pictured a 'hard-partier' to look like. Oh, okay, and I dismissed him from my mind. I kept hearing stories about this guy Beau, how he lived in a tiny house down behind A&W and always held parties at his house, like every night. I was invited to a party one weekend, held at my friend Jill's house. Her family was loaded and they lived in what I considered to be a mansion. Her parents were gone for the weekend and so she did what teenagers always do in movies, have a huge party when the parents are gone, haha. And just like in the movies, the house got completely trashed and poor Jill was freaking out, so I helped her shut the party down, kicked everyone out, we cleaned up a bit, and then decided to follow everyone to this guy Beau's house, as he'd said everyone could go there to continue the party. My first impression of his house was, GROSS. Very tiny, very dirty, and just packed with people. Someone puked on the floor. I stayed outside because the house was making me claustrophobic; the police came and sent everyone home. And I never did meet this Beau guy. A few weekends later, I was at another party in the country with my friend Christine; when it ended we got into her car to leave and suddenly there was this guy, banging on the window and asking for a ride back to Sylvan. It was Beau. So, because I kind of knew about him, I told Christine it would be okay and we let him get in. He was totally wasted and sloppy, sat beside me in the back wayyy too close, kept trying to take my seatbelt off, talked too loud and too much, at one point I think he tried to kiss me and I smacked him across the face. He was completely annoying and I couldn't wait to get back to Sylvan and dump this jerk at his house. I was not impressed. Flash forward a month later, about mid-June, I was looking to move out of my parent's house and asked my friends if they knew of anyone who needed a roommate. One friend mentioned this Beau guy again, saying he'd moved into a six-plex but that his roommate had just moved out and he needed another. I was leery, especially after that experience in the car. But the situation at home was getting really bad and I was desperate. I was working at A&W one afternoon and saw this guy outside walking by, long brown hair, deeply tanned, shirtless, with a huge Cerberus tattoo on his back. It was him, Beau! I rushed outside, ran up and grabbed his arm, introduced myself and explained how I was needing a place to live, would he consider me for a roommate. He seemed a little stunned but agreed that I could come over the next day after school to check the place out. He wasn't at all like he'd been that night, the complete opposite in fact, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and chalked his behaviour that night up to having one too many. So I agreed to go check out his place the next day. The first thing I saw when I walked in his apartment was him on hands and knees, vacuuming the baseboards in the livingroom. The place was spotless, so that was a nice surprise. We had an awkward little visit, me in my miniskirt perched hesitantly on his ratty old couch while he tried to put me at ease. He was a total sweetheart, very quiet and soft-spoken, very polite. He seemed a little in awe of me, which was a nice ego-stroke. And the rent was low, something I could easily cover with my paycheque and still have lots of money left over. So that was it, I moved in within the week. For that first month, July, we led our separate lives. I worked my morning shifts at A&W and partied every night with my friends; he was usually asleep when I left for work and gone by the time I returned. We rarely saw each other, which was absolutely fine by me. Then, in August, he started hanging out at the apartment more often. Suddenly every time I turned around, he was there. Always polite, always soft-spoken and kind, and he was funny. I realized it was kind of fun to have a roommate, someone to talk to about the rough day at work, watching tv together, etc. We started going to parties together, and it made me feel safe to know that I had this big guy watching my back. I saw that he kind of had a split personality; when sober he was introverted, when drunk just the opposite. I'll never forget the one night we had a big party at our apartment (which ended when a neighbor complained about the noise and we got shut down), so everyone decided to head down to the beach. Picture a huge group of drunken teenagers stumbling down the street, laughing and goofing around. Eventually we made our way to the pier and someone suggested we all jump off together as a group. Beau heard that and just started running for the edge of the pier, while us less-coordinated ones followed. Suddenly a pair of headlights turned on-- there was cop parked right there on the pier, behind some trees, probably waiting for just such an opportunity. But it was too late for Beau, he was already mid-jump. By the time he surfaced we were all standing there at the edge, looking down at him, laughing hysterically, while the cop stood with us, shining his flashlight down onto Beau's wet face and said, "Hello Beau, having a good night?" He sheepishly climbed out of the water and we were all sent home. So funny. But anyway, the more time I spent with him, seeing these dual aspects of his personality, the more I was intrigued. One night after a few drinks, he turned very morose and after some prompting, started talking about his childhood. You all know some of those details so I won't get into it, but he was just devastated, sobbing and so sad my heart was breaking for him. Now, during all this time spent together, I was still carrying on my partying ways, sneaking into the bar with my friends (who were all 18, I was the only underage one but the bouncer was a guy I went to school with who had a crush on me), hooking up with guys left and right. I had feelings for Beau but I didn't want to, so I used those other guys as distractions. And one day, after just such a night, Beau snapped. I guess he'd come home and seen another guy's shoes on the floor, heard enough to know what was going on, and spent the night seething and angry. When I woke up, he really let me have it. "So this is your life now, I guess, huh? This is who you want to be, what you want to be known for? The easy party-girl, the 'sure thing'. I thought you'd be different. I respected you. So smart, so beautiful, you could be anything, DO anything. I'm so disappointed in you right now, I can't... can't even..." and then he just turned around and left the apartment. It was like a bucket of ice water to the face, like a verbal slap. At first I was righteously angry. How dare he judge me, how DARE he presume to know my reasons for doing what I did. And as the day wore on and he didn't return so I could blast him back, then night, what he'd said really started to sink in. What the hell was I doing? Why? Did I really need the boost to my ego and self-esteem, knowing I could get any guy I wanted? What would my life be like if I continued down this path? And so it was a very different me that greeted him when he finally came home the next day. Gone was the cocky, arrogant girl who flirted to get her way, gone was this sexy-party-girl persona I'd created to hide my insecurities. I became the soft-spoken one. I dropped the act and started to be 'real' around him, comfortable for the first time that here was a person who actually preferred the true me. I didn't feel the need to hide behind sexy clothes. I could leave my room without having to apply a full face of makeup. I remember the first time I walked into the livingroom after waking up, in old ratty jammies, face freshly scrubbed, hair all crazy, and his face just transformed, lit up, huge grin. He was the first to ever see me like that, and he knew it. And so from then on, we became inseparable. He was more than just a roommate, more than a friend. He was so special to me. But I was still scared to let it be more than that; I didn't want to seem like that easy-girl again, and I didn't want a physical relationship to ruin it. Lets just say I really made him work for it, haha. Even once we did cross that line, I was leery about letting other people know that we were now 'together'. I didn't want it to seem like a cliche or like, Oh, she can't find a guy so she hooked up with the roomie. When we were around friends I was careful to not act like a girlfriend. I knew it hurt him, like he felt maybe I was ashamed of him or 'us', but he understood my feelings and so let me get away with it. One night though, walking home from a friend's house, a carload of people we knew drove by and saw us holding hands. "Oh-ho, its finally happened!" they yelled out the window. "You finally got your girl, eh Beau? Took ya long enough! Good for you, man, that's awesome!" and they drove away. I was stunned. What? 'Got his girl'? Just how long had he liked me that way? And no one teased us or made any rude comments, like I'd expected. When we got home, I questioned him and it all spilled out. How he'd seen me at the high school that one time at The Pit and been unable to take his eyes off me, but was told by his buddies that he didn't stand a chance, "she only goes for football players and jocks". How he'd invited everyone to his house that one time just so that I would come, even though we never did see each other that night. How he'd seen his chance to actually talk to me that night he asked for a ride home in Christine's car, how embarrassed he was that he acted that way but being so drunk and feeling so overwhelmed, he went a little crazy, trying to kiss me and take my seatbelt off so I'd sit in his lap (like THAT would have happened, crazy man). How he'd realized he'd blown whatever chance he'd had by his behaviour and had just resigned himself to seeing me occasionally and at a distance. And how that day when I'd ran up to him outside A&W and asked if he needed a roommate, how he felt that he'd been given a gift of a second chance. So he'd been on his best behaviour around me, wanting me to be comfortable and at-ease around him. How it killed him to see me become the party-girl, to see a different pair of shoes by the door every morning, how firmly I'd placed him in the 'just friends' category. How he'd almost decided to move out after that big blow-out because he just couldn't take it anymore. But that he was never more happier to have not made that decision when he returned home and saw that it was different now, I was different. How that morning when I allowed him to see the real me, no makeup, crazy hair, that he knew he just might have finally caught me. And so after I heard all this, and there was much more, I was overwhelmed (as to be expected) but here was this guy, laying his heart right out there, so afraid of rejection but taking that risk anyway, that he loved me unconditionally, the real me... I just couldn't help it. He had my heart from that moment. And the rest is history!
This is our song, and every time I hear it I'm taken back to that summer...
'Head Over Feet' by Alanis Morrissette
I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it
You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was
Chorus: You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service
Chorus
You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience
You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long
I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now
Chorus
2. What is your favorite room in your house?
The livingroom.
3. Can you wiggle your ears?
Well I can't make the actual ears wiggle but I can tighten and relax the muscles around my eyes/cheeks/forehead and it looks like my ears are wiggling. Can you do that?
4. What is your evening ritual?
Put the kids to bed, watch some tv with Hubs, play on the computer if he falls asleep, then wake him up when I'm ready for bed, wash my face (usually), set my alarm, then fall into bed with him, say goodnight in our way, then fall asleep.
5. How many hours of sleep do you need to function?
At least four.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Hubs' new job
So most of you probably don't know this but Ty started a new job yesterday. He was working at Ace Oilfield Construction here in Sylvan. When he started there back in October, we were under the illusion it was going to be something great. At the time there were three other companies who wanted him but Ace was the most desperate; the boss lady signed a contract stating he would not be laid off during spring break-up, he got the hourly wage he wanted, paid overtime, guaranteed 40 hours a week, and weekends off if he wanted them. He was the only Picker Operator and because of this, work was plentiful. His first paycheque was double what he took home at his prior job. It was awesome! The company seemed so nice, too; they wanted to meet me and the kids (the timing never worked out for this to occur, now I'm happy it didn't) and they seemed to treat him great.
THEN, this new guy was hired as Manager. And things just went downhill from there. The bottom line was that this guy was pissed off that Ty had that contract; without it you can be damned sure Ty would have been told to stay home most days and they'd call him in when needed. So it all came to a head last week when the Manager called Ty out of the blue and basically laid him off over the phone (real classy), telling him he had the next week and then that was it, he would no longer be an Ace employee.
Bastard, eh? Well guess what, we did up Ty's resume that night, he went and got a Drivers Abstract the next day, faxed and emailed a few places, and within two days there were five companies wanting to hire him. Once again, Ty had the option of choosing where he wanted to work. The only downside to that is that if all the companies are similar, its hard to make a decision. Luckily, because of Ty's contacts within the industry, he knew exactly what companies he didn't want to work for and which ones could be trusted to be good employers.
So he ended up hiring on with Bardens, which just so happens to employ his friend Kyle and Tucker's dad (Tucker is Gunnar's best friend) Troy. He was able to talk to them and get the scoop on the company. Though its one of those jobs where he has to be away a lot, at least we know that they treat their employees like KINGS. If a hotel stay is required, they don't send their guys to the cheapest dump just to save a buck; they're sent to high-quality hotels. Meals at restaurants are totally comped by the company; Kyle says he orders steak and lobster all the time and the company doesn't bat an eye, no questions asked. Any out-of-pocket expenses, such as stopping at a gas station to buy a pop and chips, they just save their receipts to be handed in and are reimbursed. Starting wage is decent, after three months there's a $4/hr raise.
So as much as I absolutely hate that he's going to be away a LOT, (Troy's wife told me one month he was only home four days), knowing that he's going to be taken care gives me some comfort. I worry about his eating habits; with his stomach issues he needs good, solid safe food. Eating on the road isn't easy with a serious allergy but at least the company won't bitch if the only thing on the menu he can eat is also the most expensive.
And as Hubs assured me, if this job turns out to be something that is just too hard on our family, he can always take a position at one of those other companies; all of whom have said that they'd love to have him if this job doesn't work out.
So we'll see how it goes. In a way its going to be like being a single mom. And I am NOT used to that! I know I can handle it, I'm very independent anyways and used to doing things for myself. I think the loneliness will be what gets me, not having that warm body beside me in bed, or even just that feeling of safety having your man around.
I'm looking into getting him an iPhone though, so we can Skype! His contract with Bell expires soon and won't that be a relief; we can Skype and he'll have something to keep him occupied during off-hours, all those apps and fun stuff like that.
I'm so proud of him!
UPDATE as of Friday, Jan. 14: Wednesday was the company's Orientation training course and Thursday was his first day of actual work. He came home last night just beaming! The company gave him a new Samsung cell phone (and its NICE, c/w leather case, charger and a vehicle charger, new in case), three pairs of brand new work coveralls with his name embroidered in BLACK (the other employees have white and are jealous now, haha), and a pair of winter coveralls; he gets to drive a brand-new dually work truck with leather interior; his work TRUCK truck (as in Boom Truck with crane & hook) is also new. He told me that most companies supply you with only ONE pair of coveralls (that you usually have to pay for, it comes off your cheque). To get three, PLUS a winter pair, FOR FREE, that's unheard of. And they're all real high-quality: the regular pairs are probably worth about $250 each and the winter one? Around $600! So that's $1100 worth of coveralls that they supplied him ON HIS FIRST DAY. He ran into a guy on a job yesterday that he used to work with at Providence and the guy was all happy that he also got a new pair of coveralls. He's been with Providence for over a year. So all this really tells us that Bardens is a top-of-the-line company, they really value their employees. Ty is so thrilled to be working with them and that makes me thrilled! :)
THEN, this new guy was hired as Manager. And things just went downhill from there. The bottom line was that this guy was pissed off that Ty had that contract; without it you can be damned sure Ty would have been told to stay home most days and they'd call him in when needed. So it all came to a head last week when the Manager called Ty out of the blue and basically laid him off over the phone (real classy), telling him he had the next week and then that was it, he would no longer be an Ace employee.
Bastard, eh? Well guess what, we did up Ty's resume that night, he went and got a Drivers Abstract the next day, faxed and emailed a few places, and within two days there were five companies wanting to hire him. Once again, Ty had the option of choosing where he wanted to work. The only downside to that is that if all the companies are similar, its hard to make a decision. Luckily, because of Ty's contacts within the industry, he knew exactly what companies he didn't want to work for and which ones could be trusted to be good employers.
So he ended up hiring on with Bardens, which just so happens to employ his friend Kyle and Tucker's dad (Tucker is Gunnar's best friend) Troy. He was able to talk to them and get the scoop on the company. Though its one of those jobs where he has to be away a lot, at least we know that they treat their employees like KINGS. If a hotel stay is required, they don't send their guys to the cheapest dump just to save a buck; they're sent to high-quality hotels. Meals at restaurants are totally comped by the company; Kyle says he orders steak and lobster all the time and the company doesn't bat an eye, no questions asked. Any out-of-pocket expenses, such as stopping at a gas station to buy a pop and chips, they just save their receipts to be handed in and are reimbursed. Starting wage is decent, after three months there's a $4/hr raise.
So as much as I absolutely hate that he's going to be away a LOT, (Troy's wife told me one month he was only home four days), knowing that he's going to be taken care gives me some comfort. I worry about his eating habits; with his stomach issues he needs good, solid safe food. Eating on the road isn't easy with a serious allergy but at least the company won't bitch if the only thing on the menu he can eat is also the most expensive.
And as Hubs assured me, if this job turns out to be something that is just too hard on our family, he can always take a position at one of those other companies; all of whom have said that they'd love to have him if this job doesn't work out.
So we'll see how it goes. In a way its going to be like being a single mom. And I am NOT used to that! I know I can handle it, I'm very independent anyways and used to doing things for myself. I think the loneliness will be what gets me, not having that warm body beside me in bed, or even just that feeling of safety having your man around.
I'm looking into getting him an iPhone though, so we can Skype! His contract with Bell expires soon and won't that be a relief; we can Skype and he'll have something to keep him occupied during off-hours, all those apps and fun stuff like that.
I'm so proud of him!
UPDATE as of Friday, Jan. 14: Wednesday was the company's Orientation training course and Thursday was his first day of actual work. He came home last night just beaming! The company gave him a new Samsung cell phone (and its NICE, c/w leather case, charger and a vehicle charger, new in case), three pairs of brand new work coveralls with his name embroidered in BLACK (the other employees have white and are jealous now, haha), and a pair of winter coveralls; he gets to drive a brand-new dually work truck with leather interior; his work TRUCK truck (as in Boom Truck with crane & hook) is also new. He told me that most companies supply you with only ONE pair of coveralls (that you usually have to pay for, it comes off your cheque). To get three, PLUS a winter pair, FOR FREE, that's unheard of. And they're all real high-quality: the regular pairs are probably worth about $250 each and the winter one? Around $600! So that's $1100 worth of coveralls that they supplied him ON HIS FIRST DAY. He ran into a guy on a job yesterday that he used to work with at Providence and the guy was all happy that he also got a new pair of coveralls. He's been with Providence for over a year. So all this really tells us that Bardens is a top-of-the-line company, they really value their employees. Ty is so thrilled to be working with them and that makes me thrilled! :)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I'm a "Doomsday Alarmist"
WARNING: This post is not for the faint of heart. Do not read unless you are also an Alarmist, as you WILL have nightmares and AAs.
NOTE: Please take the time to click on the links and read the information yourself. Though some of it is 'scary', its also interesting and eye-opening.
Y'all know my theories about 2012, right? Well, I found out yesterday (after a long morning googling websites) that I am what is called a Doomsday Alarmist. The night before I had the worst sleep ever, just kept having nightmares over and over about the end of the world on 12/21/2012. Everything from alien invasion, to a nuclear winter (Ice Age), radiation, widescale panic and chaos. It was HORRIBLE.
And the websites weren't much better. I discovered lists detailing exactly what may occur, explanations about Nibiru/Planet X and the planetary alignment, articles about proof of alien life and how they will return in 2012, and plenty more.
I pretty much spend the day in an anxious tizzy, wondering how I could ensure the survival of my family. One website had a 'Survival Guide' but other than finding an underground cave in a mountain of solid rock, or moving to Africa (considered the 'safest' continent as it has few fault lines and volcanoes), all life on Earth is pretty much screwed.
There is also talk of the "Fourth Dimension", I highly recommend reading that link. Our ascension into this Fourth Dimension is linked with the polar shift and reversal (NASA confirms that the polar shift is happening now; others say a true reversal is likely to occur late 2012). The definition/explanation is quite New-Agey and complicated; a 'simple' explanation is this: The pole and dimensional shifts are simultaneous; shortly before the actual shift happens, the third and fourth dimensions will begin to interface; third-dimensional synthetic objects will disappear (bye-bye tv & iPhone) and fourth-dimensional objects will suddenly appear; there will be a 3-day 'Great Void' but most people will emerge on the other side, our bodies atomic structure changed as we convert to beings of 'light', able to manifest our own reality with simple though (think 'banana' and one will appear); quality of thoughts is totally important (peace, love, unity) as people motivated by fear, anger, etc will create and manifest that. Its a very interesting concept, worth the read.
Another theory is that the upcoming 'alien invasion' will be a return of the Annunaki to earth (you've heard my spiel about the Annunaki and the Reptilians, right? Watch that video link!!). Some believe that the Annunaki were the basis for our belief in 'angels', as they came to earth as winged beings, bringing their advanced technology to the Ancient Sumerians, creating the pyramids, genetically engineering humans (which is why we only use 15% of our brain power and have never discovered that 'missing link' of how we evolved from Neanderthals to Homo Sapiens), etc.
My mind was spinning with all this information, dire warnings and tragic outcomes; I was having little AA's and getting quite depressed!
When I brought up the subject with Hubs (who agrees with me about the upcoming End of Days), I was talking about how we would survive. And he said the most amazing thing, it just cut right through all my anxiety:
"Why would we WANT to survive it?"
I was speechless. My mouth hung open as I processed that. And then I realized... he was absolutely, 100% right.
With the world in chaos, earthquakes and volcanoes, radiation, nuclear winter, reversed polarity, people going mad, the complete breakdown of society, possible invasion of alien life forms... who in their right mind would WANT to survive in this terrifying new world? The struggle to find food, water and shelter, protecting your family from all manner of danger, possibly living underground for decades until life was sustainable on the surface. Its like a horrible sci-fi movie!
And so with that new way of looking at it, my desperate anxiety just slipped away and I became calm. So when the time comes, we will sit back with our family and watch it all unfold. And whatever happens, happens; there is nothing any of us can do about it, any illusion of control is just that.
Though I am preparing myself for that Fourth Dimension thingy. Becoming a 'being of light' has a nice ring to it.
NOTE: Please take the time to click on the links and read the information yourself. Though some of it is 'scary', its also interesting and eye-opening.
Y'all know my theories about 2012, right? Well, I found out yesterday (after a long morning googling websites) that I am what is called a Doomsday Alarmist. The night before I had the worst sleep ever, just kept having nightmares over and over about the end of the world on 12/21/2012. Everything from alien invasion, to a nuclear winter (Ice Age), radiation, widescale panic and chaos. It was HORRIBLE.
And the websites weren't much better. I discovered lists detailing exactly what may occur, explanations about Nibiru/Planet X and the planetary alignment, articles about proof of alien life and how they will return in 2012, and plenty more.
I pretty much spend the day in an anxious tizzy, wondering how I could ensure the survival of my family. One website had a 'Survival Guide' but other than finding an underground cave in a mountain of solid rock, or moving to Africa (considered the 'safest' continent as it has few fault lines and volcanoes), all life on Earth is pretty much screwed.
There is also talk of the "Fourth Dimension", I highly recommend reading that link. Our ascension into this Fourth Dimension is linked with the polar shift and reversal (NASA confirms that the polar shift is happening now; others say a true reversal is likely to occur late 2012). The definition/explanation is quite New-Agey and complicated; a 'simple' explanation is this: The pole and dimensional shifts are simultaneous; shortly before the actual shift happens, the third and fourth dimensions will begin to interface; third-dimensional synthetic objects will disappear (bye-bye tv & iPhone) and fourth-dimensional objects will suddenly appear; there will be a 3-day 'Great Void' but most people will emerge on the other side, our bodies atomic structure changed as we convert to beings of 'light', able to manifest our own reality with simple though (think 'banana' and one will appear); quality of thoughts is totally important (peace, love, unity) as people motivated by fear, anger, etc will create and manifest that. Its a very interesting concept, worth the read.
Another theory is that the upcoming 'alien invasion' will be a return of the Annunaki to earth (you've heard my spiel about the Annunaki and the Reptilians, right? Watch that video link!!). Some believe that the Annunaki were the basis for our belief in 'angels', as they came to earth as winged beings, bringing their advanced technology to the Ancient Sumerians, creating the pyramids, genetically engineering humans (which is why we only use 15% of our brain power and have never discovered that 'missing link' of how we evolved from Neanderthals to Homo Sapiens), etc.
My mind was spinning with all this information, dire warnings and tragic outcomes; I was having little AA's and getting quite depressed!
When I brought up the subject with Hubs (who agrees with me about the upcoming End of Days), I was talking about how we would survive. And he said the most amazing thing, it just cut right through all my anxiety:
"Why would we WANT to survive it?"
I was speechless. My mouth hung open as I processed that. And then I realized... he was absolutely, 100% right.
With the world in chaos, earthquakes and volcanoes, radiation, nuclear winter, reversed polarity, people going mad, the complete breakdown of society, possible invasion of alien life forms... who in their right mind would WANT to survive in this terrifying new world? The struggle to find food, water and shelter, protecting your family from all manner of danger, possibly living underground for decades until life was sustainable on the surface. Its like a horrible sci-fi movie!
And so with that new way of looking at it, my desperate anxiety just slipped away and I became calm. So when the time comes, we will sit back with our family and watch it all unfold. And whatever happens, happens; there is nothing any of us can do about it, any illusion of control is just that.
Though I am preparing myself for that Fourth Dimension thingy. Becoming a 'being of light' has a nice ring to it.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
10 Things I Love About Hubs
1. He thinks I'm "fiesty" and he loves it
Most guys would call it "bitchy" but not my man. Perfect example: Today, in the wee hours of the morning, Ryder woke up crying from a nightmare. I went into his room to soothe him back to sleep, then zombie-walked to my own bed. I was soooo tired. The commotion must have woke Hubs because he then decided to start up a conversation, asking me questions about this and that. What time was Gunnar's game tomorrow? When did my shift start at the arena? What were my thoughts about his new job? (That's a whole 'nother post.) Finally I got tired of mumbling my replies and snarked at him, "I'm trying to fall back asleep here, which is kind of hard when every time I'm just about to, you have another comment to make! GO. TO. SLEEP!" He just chuckled and said, "I love it when you're fiesty." And then he cuddled closer, wrapped an arm around me, and we fell back asleep. What a sweetheart.
2. He's thoughtful.
If you haven't looked out your window today, you're unaware of the massive dump of snow we got overnight. Actually, to clarify, the freezing RAIN we had overnight that iced up the roads, then the snow-blowing blizzard that followed. Its kind of a nightmare out there right now. Ardan had a training session booked at Complete Athlete for 10:30am; followed by my 2-hour shift selling 50/50 tickets at the arena starting at 11:15am. My wonderful thoughtful husband said that he would take Ardan so I wouldn't have to drive on those roads. Then, when he came back from dropping him off, he handed me a pack of smokes he'd bought me (with a wink and a suggestion for how I could thank him later, typical man); THEN he said he would do my 50/50 shift as well, so I could stay home with the kids! Have I mentioned what a sweetheart he is?
3. He lets me think I'm tough
Since developing arm muscles last year, I also developed an ego about them. And so lots of times Hubs and I will play-wrestle. Usually with the kids watching and cheering us on; Lena always cheers for me, the boys for Daddy. It always starts off as harmless fun, with him holding down my arms or wrists while I struggle to get loose. When I do, I have to get revenge by showing how tough I am and pinning him down, and he indulgently lets me try. But then I get tired of knowing he's holding back his strength, and then its ON. Huffing and puffing, grunting, red-faced, using all my puny might to get him pinned, both of us rolling around on the floor, trying to get the upper hand, the kids enjoying it immensely. Of course, he's laughing all the while, which just spurs me on. Eventually, when he knows I've worn myself out, he gives in and collapses under me. "Okay, you won. You're tougher than me, I guess." I KNOW he's just humouring me but it makes me feel vindicated. (Sometimes, he'll add on "Now you got your daily workout" and then it'll all start up again, haha.) He also calls this 'being fiesty'. And seeing as how he's always the one who starts these wrestling matches, I know he loves it.
4. He's got a great laugh
I always thought I would want to marry a man full of good humour and cheer; a guy who cracked jokes all the time and kept me in stitches, full of witty remarks and great comebacks. Doesn't that guy seem like he'd be a blast to live with? But wait a second, now imagine for a moment... being married to Robin Williams or Jim Carrey. Could you stand it? After half a day I'd be headed to divorce court or jail. There is something very special and heartening about hearing a great belly laugh or a chuckle or even a snort from a man who is often quiet, serious and introspective. Knowing that YOU were the one who's witty comment or joke brought about that laugh, its a great feeling. A lot of times I'll act the ham or play up the retelling of a story, just to hear that awesome laugh. (Omg, does that make ME the Robin Williams of the relationship?!?! eek)
5. He would do anything for his family
Take a job with a company he doesn't like, work crazy hours, sacrifice his own health (eating on the road is hell on his stomach), suffer sleep-deprivation, working with idiots and dickheads, having to be away from his family for long stretches at a time... all to ensure his family is provided for and doesn't have to go without. Of course, we would much rather have him here with us and live with that smaller income, but the real world sometimes calls for sacrifices when you're a one-income family with four kids.
6. Its important to him that we have fun as a FAMILY
When you think back on your childhood (unless you're Levi and have no recollections), what are the things you tend to remember? All those fun times, right? Camping trips, going to the beach, family bike rides, movie nights, hotel stays, going fishing and hunting, swimming at the pool, going bowling. Occasions when the entire family was together, making memories, laughing and having fun. Those moments are very important to Hubs, probably because he has none from his own childhood. (The 'fun' times he remembers having were always of his own making; going fishing by himself, building forts by the river by himself, shooting gophers in the field by himself.) He lives for those moments we have together. He'll come home from a long hard day at work but rather than lay on the couch and watch tv like most dads would do, he'll suggest a mini-stick competition downstairs, or taking shots out in the driveway. In the summer, no matter the hour there's always time for a quick boat ride or taking a few casts on the lake; quad rides in the ditch; bike rides down to the creek or even across town. On days off, when a lot of men would hang out with buddies or go bar-hopping, he's planning swim trips to the pool or single-night camp trips somewhere close. Many times I've thought, Man, just take a break already! Why do we have to do something every night? But then I realize he wants his kids to have the type of childhood he never did, and I sigh and put on my bike helmet and get ready for the 5km bike ride he's got planned.
7. He's a hunk
Seriously, look at my man. Broad shoulders, big biceps and forearms, strong thickly-muscled thighs and calves, big feet (you know what THAT means, right? Big SHOES. Gotta keep it PG.). When I first met him he weighed 175lbs. Now he sits at about 220. And I LOVE IT. I love some meat on those bones. I look back at old pictures and though he does have a six-pack, he's basically skin and bones. As the years have passed, he's packed on some serious muscle and its awesome! His weight can easily fluctuate 20 pounds, losing it when he's sick and gaining it during the winter (which we all do, right? We call it 'winter weight', it helps to keep us warm, haha). After a bout of sickness, I can't stand seeing him looking so skinny and I love nothing more than fattening him back up. What can I say, I love big men. One in particular. :)
8. He's passionate
And not just in a sexual way, as you're probably thinking from that headline. He's passionate about everything. Whereas most guys think of fishing and hunting as amusing pastimes, for him its an obsession. You all know this! He cares about his family passionately; heaven help anyone who dares to threaten that. Someone or something angers him, you're not going to hear a simple 'darn it', you're going to hear a blast because he feels passionately about whatever transgression has occurred. Sometimes it can be trying to live with a man who feels so strongly, yet I couldn't imagine being married to a person with a 'meh' attitude. As to the other kind of passion, let's just say I'm lucky I don't have a hundred kids by now, and leave it at that. *wink*
9. He doesn't care that I'm not a Martha
I could not imagine being married to a man who expected a perfectly clean house all the time. We would make each other's lives a living hell if that was the case. I know I'm not as bad as a Hoarder's episode, but I've got to admit my house would probably horrify a lot of people. I'm satisfied if laundry is done, dishes are clean, and floors are vacuumed. If the kids' bedrooms are a disaster or there's dust on some shelves, its not the end of the world. In fact, I've been known to go months without dusting the knick-knack shelves in the livingroom. Some things just aren't high on my priority list. Does my bed get made every day? No. Are there usually fingerprints on the tv? Yes. Is there a mouse's-dream of crumbs under the toaster? You betcha. As long as there's a hot delicious meal on the table, the kids are happy, and he's got clean clothes in the closet, Hubs is a content guy. And I am a lucky woman!
10. He loves me no matter what
Let me put it this way: when he first met me I was 120 pounds and now... I'm not. Haha. I've had long sexy hair down to my butt, Ellen-Degeneres-soccer-mom-lesbian hair an inch long, red hair, black hair, blonde, brown, and everything in between. I got my nose pierced! Sometimes I let weeks go by without shaving my legs. Some days I don't shower and just wear jammies all day. I'm a smoker with ashtray breath (though sometimes I'm not, now is not one of those times however). I've gained weight with each pregnancy. I can be a total moody bitch (sometimes its just being 'fiesty' though, right? lol). Sometimes I'm just not in the 'mood'. When I have my mind set against doing something, there's no way you can make me. I'm impatient and controlling. And yet... through it all, he's loved me. His passion for me has never waned, no matter my appearance. He is always there for me when I need him, and even when I don't. He finds my independence and I-can-do-it-myself attitude sexy and powerful. He told me once that the first time he met me, he knew I was 'the one' and that he wanted me to be the mother of his children. Through all our years together, all the ups and downs, he's been the one constant. There's not enough words to express how he makes me feel; I can only be intensely thankful that the Fates allowed us to cross paths so many years ago.
"Soul-mates are people who bring out the best in you. They are not perfect but are always perfect for you."
~Author Unknown
Most guys would call it "bitchy" but not my man. Perfect example: Today, in the wee hours of the morning, Ryder woke up crying from a nightmare. I went into his room to soothe him back to sleep, then zombie-walked to my own bed. I was soooo tired. The commotion must have woke Hubs because he then decided to start up a conversation, asking me questions about this and that. What time was Gunnar's game tomorrow? When did my shift start at the arena? What were my thoughts about his new job? (That's a whole 'nother post.) Finally I got tired of mumbling my replies and snarked at him, "I'm trying to fall back asleep here, which is kind of hard when every time I'm just about to, you have another comment to make! GO. TO. SLEEP!" He just chuckled and said, "I love it when you're fiesty." And then he cuddled closer, wrapped an arm around me, and we fell back asleep. What a sweetheart.
2. He's thoughtful.
If you haven't looked out your window today, you're unaware of the massive dump of snow we got overnight. Actually, to clarify, the freezing RAIN we had overnight that iced up the roads, then the snow-blowing blizzard that followed. Its kind of a nightmare out there right now. Ardan had a training session booked at Complete Athlete for 10:30am; followed by my 2-hour shift selling 50/50 tickets at the arena starting at 11:15am. My wonderful thoughtful husband said that he would take Ardan so I wouldn't have to drive on those roads. Then, when he came back from dropping him off, he handed me a pack of smokes he'd bought me (with a wink and a suggestion for how I could thank him later, typical man); THEN he said he would do my 50/50 shift as well, so I could stay home with the kids! Have I mentioned what a sweetheart he is?
3. He lets me think I'm tough
Since developing arm muscles last year, I also developed an ego about them. And so lots of times Hubs and I will play-wrestle. Usually with the kids watching and cheering us on; Lena always cheers for me, the boys for Daddy. It always starts off as harmless fun, with him holding down my arms or wrists while I struggle to get loose. When I do, I have to get revenge by showing how tough I am and pinning him down, and he indulgently lets me try. But then I get tired of knowing he's holding back his strength, and then its ON. Huffing and puffing, grunting, red-faced, using all my puny might to get him pinned, both of us rolling around on the floor, trying to get the upper hand, the kids enjoying it immensely. Of course, he's laughing all the while, which just spurs me on. Eventually, when he knows I've worn myself out, he gives in and collapses under me. "Okay, you won. You're tougher than me, I guess." I KNOW he's just humouring me but it makes me feel vindicated. (Sometimes, he'll add on "Now you got your daily workout" and then it'll all start up again, haha.) He also calls this 'being fiesty'. And seeing as how he's always the one who starts these wrestling matches, I know he loves it.
4. He's got a great laugh
I always thought I would want to marry a man full of good humour and cheer; a guy who cracked jokes all the time and kept me in stitches, full of witty remarks and great comebacks. Doesn't that guy seem like he'd be a blast to live with? But wait a second, now imagine for a moment... being married to Robin Williams or Jim Carrey. Could you stand it? After half a day I'd be headed to divorce court or jail. There is something very special and heartening about hearing a great belly laugh or a chuckle or even a snort from a man who is often quiet, serious and introspective. Knowing that YOU were the one who's witty comment or joke brought about that laugh, its a great feeling. A lot of times I'll act the ham or play up the retelling of a story, just to hear that awesome laugh. (Omg, does that make ME the Robin Williams of the relationship?!?! eek)
5. He would do anything for his family
Take a job with a company he doesn't like, work crazy hours, sacrifice his own health (eating on the road is hell on his stomach), suffer sleep-deprivation, working with idiots and dickheads, having to be away from his family for long stretches at a time... all to ensure his family is provided for and doesn't have to go without. Of course, we would much rather have him here with us and live with that smaller income, but the real world sometimes calls for sacrifices when you're a one-income family with four kids.
6. Its important to him that we have fun as a FAMILY
When you think back on your childhood (unless you're Levi and have no recollections), what are the things you tend to remember? All those fun times, right? Camping trips, going to the beach, family bike rides, movie nights, hotel stays, going fishing and hunting, swimming at the pool, going bowling. Occasions when the entire family was together, making memories, laughing and having fun. Those moments are very important to Hubs, probably because he has none from his own childhood. (The 'fun' times he remembers having were always of his own making; going fishing by himself, building forts by the river by himself, shooting gophers in the field by himself.) He lives for those moments we have together. He'll come home from a long hard day at work but rather than lay on the couch and watch tv like most dads would do, he'll suggest a mini-stick competition downstairs, or taking shots out in the driveway. In the summer, no matter the hour there's always time for a quick boat ride or taking a few casts on the lake; quad rides in the ditch; bike rides down to the creek or even across town. On days off, when a lot of men would hang out with buddies or go bar-hopping, he's planning swim trips to the pool or single-night camp trips somewhere close. Many times I've thought, Man, just take a break already! Why do we have to do something every night? But then I realize he wants his kids to have the type of childhood he never did, and I sigh and put on my bike helmet and get ready for the 5km bike ride he's got planned.
7. He's a hunk
Seriously, look at my man. Broad shoulders, big biceps and forearms, strong thickly-muscled thighs and calves, big feet (you know what THAT means, right? Big SHOES. Gotta keep it PG.). When I first met him he weighed 175lbs. Now he sits at about 220. And I LOVE IT. I love some meat on those bones. I look back at old pictures and though he does have a six-pack, he's basically skin and bones. As the years have passed, he's packed on some serious muscle and its awesome! His weight can easily fluctuate 20 pounds, losing it when he's sick and gaining it during the winter (which we all do, right? We call it 'winter weight', it helps to keep us warm, haha). After a bout of sickness, I can't stand seeing him looking so skinny and I love nothing more than fattening him back up. What can I say, I love big men. One in particular. :)
8. He's passionate
And not just in a sexual way, as you're probably thinking from that headline. He's passionate about everything. Whereas most guys think of fishing and hunting as amusing pastimes, for him its an obsession. You all know this! He cares about his family passionately; heaven help anyone who dares to threaten that. Someone or something angers him, you're not going to hear a simple 'darn it', you're going to hear a blast because he feels passionately about whatever transgression has occurred. Sometimes it can be trying to live with a man who feels so strongly, yet I couldn't imagine being married to a person with a 'meh' attitude. As to the other kind of passion, let's just say I'm lucky I don't have a hundred kids by now, and leave it at that. *wink*
9. He doesn't care that I'm not a Martha
I could not imagine being married to a man who expected a perfectly clean house all the time. We would make each other's lives a living hell if that was the case. I know I'm not as bad as a Hoarder's episode, but I've got to admit my house would probably horrify a lot of people. I'm satisfied if laundry is done, dishes are clean, and floors are vacuumed. If the kids' bedrooms are a disaster or there's dust on some shelves, its not the end of the world. In fact, I've been known to go months without dusting the knick-knack shelves in the livingroom. Some things just aren't high on my priority list. Does my bed get made every day? No. Are there usually fingerprints on the tv? Yes. Is there a mouse's-dream of crumbs under the toaster? You betcha. As long as there's a hot delicious meal on the table, the kids are happy, and he's got clean clothes in the closet, Hubs is a content guy. And I am a lucky woman!
10. He loves me no matter what
Let me put it this way: when he first met me I was 120 pounds and now... I'm not. Haha. I've had long sexy hair down to my butt, Ellen-Degeneres-soccer-mom-lesbian hair an inch long, red hair, black hair, blonde, brown, and everything in between. I got my nose pierced! Sometimes I let weeks go by without shaving my legs. Some days I don't shower and just wear jammies all day. I'm a smoker with ashtray breath (though sometimes I'm not, now is not one of those times however). I've gained weight with each pregnancy. I can be a total moody bitch (sometimes its just being 'fiesty' though, right? lol). Sometimes I'm just not in the 'mood'. When I have my mind set against doing something, there's no way you can make me. I'm impatient and controlling. And yet... through it all, he's loved me. His passion for me has never waned, no matter my appearance. He is always there for me when I need him, and even when I don't. He finds my independence and I-can-do-it-myself attitude sexy and powerful. He told me once that the first time he met me, he knew I was 'the one' and that he wanted me to be the mother of his children. Through all our years together, all the ups and downs, he's been the one constant. There's not enough words to express how he makes me feel; I can only be intensely thankful that the Fates allowed us to cross paths so many years ago.
"Soul-mates are people who bring out the best in you. They are not perfect but are always perfect for you."
~Author Unknown
Friday, December 31, 2010
2011 Resolutions
Okay, enough is enough. Time to wisen up and get serious. After careful consideration, I've determined that these are the areas I need to improve upon...
1. STOP SMOKING.
2. A renewed commitment to the WLJ.
Seriously, enough is enough. No more procrastination, no more bingeing and fasting. Back to the healthy eating and daily exercise, even if its just twenty minutes. The 2012 Final Countdown is a'comin' and I need to be in fighting form. (I'm only half-kidding.)
3. Be a KINDER person.
I know most of you will think, 'But you ARE a kind person, Beau!' Well, honestly, a lot of the time I'm not. I think unkind thoughts, I make snap judgements about people based on their appearance or actions (when I know damn well what happens when you ASSUME), and I hold grudges. I need to make a conscious effort to be nice in both deed and thought. I think I'll become a much happier person.
4. Tame back the road rage.
I used to gape in horrified amazement when Hubs would let loose the road rage and think to myself, 'Wow, he has some ISSUES!' Haha. Well now I find myself being the one screaming at other drivers, letting loose angry tirades about the stupidity of mankind. Some reactions are uncontrollable, like when that jerk cuts you off or passes too close. But sometimes I find myself being fully aware that I am unreasonably angry (I mean, c'mon, is it that big of a deal that buddy waited until the last second to put on his turn signal?), and yet I still yell and curse. I justify it by telling myself I am teaching my children what NOT to do so that when they are drivers, they will be aware of the kind of things some idiot drivers do. And while that may be somewhat true (yes, now they know to be defensive drivers and be watchful for morons that try to run red lights, etc), do I really want my kids to see me exhibiting such rage?
5. Be more PATIENT.
This is kind of related to the kindness thing, but this one in particular is aimed more towards my children. And I'm sure you all think (because I've heard it said) that I am always ever-so-patient with my kids, yaddayadda. Its a show! A put-on for the public! Not saying I'm an evil raging bitch behind closed doors, but sometimes, a little. I find that I don't have patience or even the desire to be patient when it comes to getting what I want done. For example, if I have to tell my kids to get something done more than twice, I can literally feel my blood pressure rising and then its like, "NOW!" I realize this is normal for any parent, especially one with four kids, but there is a lot to be said for recognizing that these are just KIDS and as such, they flow on their own time path. When Ryder is taking forever to get his coat and boots on, I need to stop and take a breather because what seems like such an inconsequential thing is actually teaching him independence and self-reliance. Little things like that, where I tend to take over just to get it done quickly, or bigger things like Gunnar waiting til what seems like the last minute to get his papers done... those are moments when I have a learning opportunity, to become a better parent and create stronger relationships with my children. Give them a break, understand where their behaviour is coming from (after all, its -20 outside, would I really want to be delivering papers in that?), and just let it be, go with their flow.
6. Show true appreciation for what I've been given, and what I've had to work for.
7. Be more loving to Hubs, and more expressive to him how I'm in love with him.
Many times I lose patience with him (there's that patience thing again) or get angry because he doesn't see something the way I do, or if he says or does something I don't agree with. I can be very short-tempered with him or flippant, or I say something disrespectful like 'pffft!' or roll my eyes. Very rude and its embarrassing to admit that I do that. I am a very stubborn person and I tend to think I'm always right. At times my personality can be very dominating and bossy. If you're not with me, you're against me, that sort of thing. Plus, I have a lot of issues with 'authority' that stem from my teenage years, when I felt very stifled, repressed and controlled. A sure way to get me to do something is to tell me NOT to do it. You know? A lot of times I'm actually reacting to the tone of voice or the manner something is being expressed to me, rather than the actual words. Ty might say something to me and his voice sounds angry, but really its because he just got home and had a stressful day; I'll take it in as a criticism or slight, and then in return I've got a bitchy tone and I'm resentful. Its so stupid and childish but its a rut I get stuck in. And so it needs to END, and I need to grow up. Treat my man as a MAN, not my father, not my child, as my HUSBAND that I've willingly chosen to bind myself to, and as such give him the respect, admiration and most importantly, LOVE, that he so deserves. I always compare our relationship to Levi and Amber's, "Why don't you treat me like Levi treats Amber? Why don't I get PDA's and sweet little kisses when noone's looking? Why don't my feelings come first?" etcetc. But its that old adage that I firmly believe in, 'You reap what you sow'. And I'm a big hypocrite! I want all that stuff but I don't expect to have to return the actions, or initiate them in the first place. So that all stops this year. This year I am going to be the best wife ever, considerate and unselfish, thoughtful and caring. And LOVING. The best example of how true mates should treat each other will always be my parents. No matter their issues, no matter the situation, the highs and lows, they were always about showing each other respect, consideration and love. My mother would NEVER have rolled her eyes at my dad. From now on, I will ask myself, 'Would Mom do this?' (we'll call it: WMDT?) and that will be the measuring stick I hold myself accountable to.
8. Stay in better touch with my loved ones, and be the first to initiate contact and communication.
I am sooo bad for this. I leave it for the other person to contact me. (Well, with the exception of Mom and Christine.) But I mean with my brothers, Fred, Kelly, my grandparents... its usually them who calls me, not vice versa. So this year I'm going to really try to be a better friend, sister, daughter, etc. If I find myself thinking of someone or remembering something funny or cute about them, well then dammit I'm going to call them up right then and there and tell them about it! Its something my mom has always encouraged (she's so wise) and I'm going to start doing it more often. So be prepared to be seeing my number on your call display more often!
So there you have it. My list of resolutions for 2011. While I've accomplished some of last year's resolutions (be more organized, procrastinate less), there's still more work to be done. And this will be the year!
So I will it, so shall it be. :)
Five Question Friday
1. How long does your Christmas tree stay up?
Usually until mid-January, although one time it was still up on my birthday! (Which is the 27th.) I have to be 'in the mood' to take it down, you know? The sheer volume of Christmassey stuff I have to take down and get all packed away neatly and properly in the 3 giant bins, it really requires a good solid full day. So if I don't have the time or energy to devote to that project, UN-decking the halls, as it were, it just doesn't get done.
2. Do you have plans for New Year's Eve?
Our plans for tonight are as follows: eat, drink, be merry, watch movies, play the many board games we got for Christmas, laugh, stay up late, let the kids drink their 'wine' (sparkling juice or Baby Duck), and do the countdown, then hit the sack in drunken splendor.
3. Do you have any New Year's resolutions?
Many, many. To be discussed in a later post.
4. How did you spend New Year's Eve when you were younger?
Mom and Dad would always have a bottle of Baby Duck for us young'uns. Depending on the ferocity of the weather, we'd usually have a roaring bonfire out by Muckletoose, roasting wienies and marshmallows. The video camera would be rolling to catch all our hijinks and antics. Lots of bellylaughs and stories told. If it was just too cold outside, we'd cuddle up on the couch in the livingroom, the wood-burning stove going full-blast until we were sweating and in our undies (in the case of Dad and the boys, Mom and I would put on our summer shorts and tees); watching movies, tv, home videos. Snacky foods and nibbles. And of course, by the time the countdown rolled around, we'd all be hyper and giddy and screaming, "10...9...8...7...!" Us kids, the boys in particular, would pretend to be drunk off our 'wine'. There would usually be a contest between us kids who could stay up the latest and most years Trapper would win, because poor little Levi would just zonk out after the countdown and there was no way I could keep up with wiry, hyper little Trapper. I think there were a few times Mom and Dad had friends over for a little NYE party, in which case all those listed activities were carried out to the nth degree, only with more adults and kids adding to the merriment and loudness. I'm pretty sure on those occasions, with drunken adults paying no attention to us kids, we would sneak some real wine (or booze) and then the fun would REALLY start. And we would devote hours to 'spying' on the adults. Haha, good times...
5. What was the best way you've ever spent New Year's Eve?
I've enjoyed all our New Years Eve's together, but two in particular were very memorable. The Y2K countdown (remember how everyone thought it would be the end of the world and the power grid would fail?) we spent in Edmonton at Christine and Joel's house. Gunnar was a little over a year old and being the perfect angel he was, he played nicely, ate his dinner, then went nicely and quietly to bed. Now, at the time Tyler didn't know he had a wheat allergy, so he'd brought a case of beer to drink, which he put on the deck to get cold and then forgot about until hours later, when the beer had frozen. He was so upset about the waste of money that he stubbornly refused to throw them out, and ended up drinking them all! Of course, we all know what happens when you drink thawed frozen beer; add to that a wheat allergy and you can guess his reaction. He got staggeringly drunk in like half an hour and ended up passed out in the hallway in front of the bedroom we were going to sleep in. Poor Christine had the flu so she was on the couch, half-dozing the whole night. So it was just me and Joel, steadily drinking and making small talk while we watched this momentous countdown on tv, waiting for the world's power grids to fail and for some spectacular catastrophe to occur, which it didn't. Then Joel tucked poor sick Chris in bed while I heaved and hauled my passed out guy from the hallway into the room. I was so mad that I just left him on the floor beside the bed, without even covers. So that was a memorable NYE.
The other NYE that brings back good memories is probably the year before that other one, because Gunnar was just wee. We lived in that apartment right downtown and we were excited because there was going to be a huge NYE festival-type thing just down the street from us, at the field by the elementary school. Julie, Randy and their boys (only 4 of them at the time) came in to town, and I believe Tari and Dave did as well, with little Scarlet and Kimmie. We all walked down to the field together, drank hot chocolate, mingled in the crowd while the kids ran around together, and then there was the countdown with the entire crowd yelling out together. And THEN, a huge fireworks display! Gunnar was fast asleep all warm and cozy in his stroller and I remember looking up into Ty's face as fireworks exploded overhead and the crowd oohed-and-aahed, and thinking "This is the best New Year's Eve ever!"
Usually until mid-January, although one time it was still up on my birthday! (Which is the 27th.) I have to be 'in the mood' to take it down, you know? The sheer volume of Christmassey stuff I have to take down and get all packed away neatly and properly in the 3 giant bins, it really requires a good solid full day. So if I don't have the time or energy to devote to that project, UN-decking the halls, as it were, it just doesn't get done.
2. Do you have plans for New Year's Eve?
Our plans for tonight are as follows: eat, drink, be merry, watch movies, play the many board games we got for Christmas, laugh, stay up late, let the kids drink their 'wine' (sparkling juice or Baby Duck), and do the countdown, then hit the sack in drunken splendor.
3. Do you have any New Year's resolutions?
Many, many. To be discussed in a later post.
4. How did you spend New Year's Eve when you were younger?
Mom and Dad would always have a bottle of Baby Duck for us young'uns. Depending on the ferocity of the weather, we'd usually have a roaring bonfire out by Muckletoose, roasting wienies and marshmallows. The video camera would be rolling to catch all our hijinks and antics. Lots of bellylaughs and stories told. If it was just too cold outside, we'd cuddle up on the couch in the livingroom, the wood-burning stove going full-blast until we were sweating and in our undies (in the case of Dad and the boys, Mom and I would put on our summer shorts and tees); watching movies, tv, home videos. Snacky foods and nibbles. And of course, by the time the countdown rolled around, we'd all be hyper and giddy and screaming, "10...9...8...7...!" Us kids, the boys in particular, would pretend to be drunk off our 'wine'. There would usually be a contest between us kids who could stay up the latest and most years Trapper would win, because poor little Levi would just zonk out after the countdown and there was no way I could keep up with wiry, hyper little Trapper. I think there were a few times Mom and Dad had friends over for a little NYE party, in which case all those listed activities were carried out to the nth degree, only with more adults and kids adding to the merriment and loudness. I'm pretty sure on those occasions, with drunken adults paying no attention to us kids, we would sneak some real wine (or booze) and then the fun would REALLY start. And we would devote hours to 'spying' on the adults. Haha, good times...
5. What was the best way you've ever spent New Year's Eve?
I've enjoyed all our New Years Eve's together, but two in particular were very memorable. The Y2K countdown (remember how everyone thought it would be the end of the world and the power grid would fail?) we spent in Edmonton at Christine and Joel's house. Gunnar was a little over a year old and being the perfect angel he was, he played nicely, ate his dinner, then went nicely and quietly to bed. Now, at the time Tyler didn't know he had a wheat allergy, so he'd brought a case of beer to drink, which he put on the deck to get cold and then forgot about until hours later, when the beer had frozen. He was so upset about the waste of money that he stubbornly refused to throw them out, and ended up drinking them all! Of course, we all know what happens when you drink thawed frozen beer; add to that a wheat allergy and you can guess his reaction. He got staggeringly drunk in like half an hour and ended up passed out in the hallway in front of the bedroom we were going to sleep in. Poor Christine had the flu so she was on the couch, half-dozing the whole night. So it was just me and Joel, steadily drinking and making small talk while we watched this momentous countdown on tv, waiting for the world's power grids to fail and for some spectacular catastrophe to occur, which it didn't. Then Joel tucked poor sick Chris in bed while I heaved and hauled my passed out guy from the hallway into the room. I was so mad that I just left him on the floor beside the bed, without even covers. So that was a memorable NYE.
The other NYE that brings back good memories is probably the year before that other one, because Gunnar was just wee. We lived in that apartment right downtown and we were excited because there was going to be a huge NYE festival-type thing just down the street from us, at the field by the elementary school. Julie, Randy and their boys (only 4 of them at the time) came in to town, and I believe Tari and Dave did as well, with little Scarlet and Kimmie. We all walked down to the field together, drank hot chocolate, mingled in the crowd while the kids ran around together, and then there was the countdown with the entire crowd yelling out together. And THEN, a huge fireworks display! Gunnar was fast asleep all warm and cozy in his stroller and I remember looking up into Ty's face as fireworks exploded overhead and the crowd oohed-and-aahed, and thinking "This is the best New Year's Eve ever!"
Friday, December 3, 2010
Five Question Friday
1. What's on the top of your holiday wish list and why?!
A sweet new camera, mine sucks! Okay, well, it doesn't really but have you seen the new cameras out there? Mine is a Kodak EasyShare C813, pink, and I picked it up on sale last Christmas for $70. So it was a good deal, and it does take good pics and video, too. But it doesn't hold that many pics (internal memory is like 10 pics, sucky) and the memory card I have only holds like 60. To record a video uses like all the memory. And a lot of the pics come out dark so I have to fix them up with my photo editing software. For once, I'd like a camera where you just point and click, it takes perfect pics the first time, has tons of memory, and all the bells and whistles other cameras have. You know?
2. What is your favorite Christmas gift from the past?
The Adam Lambert cd I got last Christmas, duhhhh! (Thanks Amber and Levi!) As well, the set of 7 books (about the Fae) from mom, the photo frame with all the pics of the kids (also L&A), all my gifts from Chrissy over the years (Avon makeup last xmas, woohooo!!!), jewelry from Hubs and the kids, and so much more I can't even list them all...
3. If you had life to do over, what would you be when you grow up?
Dumb question, I've answered this like three times before. Next!
4. When do you put up your tree?
Usually the first week in December. We have ZERO hockey this weekend (a true Christmas miracle) so it looks like tomorrow or Sunday will be the day. Yay! I love Christmas, which answers this next question...
5. What is your favorite Holiday?
A sweet new camera, mine sucks! Okay, well, it doesn't really but have you seen the new cameras out there? Mine is a Kodak EasyShare C813, pink, and I picked it up on sale last Christmas for $70. So it was a good deal, and it does take good pics and video, too. But it doesn't hold that many pics (internal memory is like 10 pics, sucky) and the memory card I have only holds like 60. To record a video uses like all the memory. And a lot of the pics come out dark so I have to fix them up with my photo editing software. For once, I'd like a camera where you just point and click, it takes perfect pics the first time, has tons of memory, and all the bells and whistles other cameras have. You know?
2. What is your favorite Christmas gift from the past?
The Adam Lambert cd I got last Christmas, duhhhh! (Thanks Amber and Levi!) As well, the set of 7 books (about the Fae) from mom, the photo frame with all the pics of the kids (also L&A), all my gifts from Chrissy over the years (Avon makeup last xmas, woohooo!!!), jewelry from Hubs and the kids, and so much more I can't even list them all...
3. If you had life to do over, what would you be when you grow up?
Dumb question, I've answered this like three times before. Next!
4. When do you put up your tree?
Usually the first week in December. We have ZERO hockey this weekend (a true Christmas miracle) so it looks like tomorrow or Sunday will be the day. Yay! I love Christmas, which answers this next question...
5. What is your favorite Holiday?
Friday, October 22, 2010
Five Question Friday
1. Who is the better cook, you or your spouse?
A couple years ago, the answer would have been Hubs, for sure. But I think I've come a long way in the kitchen, I'm probably equal now. Some things are my specialty (lasagna, cookies, potato pancakes, rice salad, chili, egg rolls, pot roast) and some things are his (steak, oven-fried potatoes, anything barbecued).
2. How often do you talk to your mom?
Almost every day! If a couple days go by with no contact, either she or I will phone each other and its always "It seems like forever since I talked to you!", haha. Many times I will be thinking of calling her and just about to grab the phone (once I was even mid-dial) and the phone will ring, and its her! We have this mind-link thing going on.
3. Are you adventurous in the kitchen or stick to the recipe?
I try to stick to the recipe. That way, if it doesn't turn out I know its not my fault! And when the kids and Hubs complain about it, I can honestly say "Hey, I followed the recipe!". Gotta cover my bases.
4. Is your second toe longer than your big toe?
No, its almost a centimetre shorter. Hubs and Gunnar, however, have equal-length big and second toes. Weird!
5. Do you dress up for Halloween? (Bonus question: What will you be this year?)
Yep. To both questions. And its usually the same thing: zombie bride or vampire. I tease my hair until its a wild tangled mess, add some plastic spiders and leaves to it. Pale face with bluish-purple bruises under the eyes, heavy eye makeup, fake blood dripping from my mouth, a few fake scars (I got these really cool stick-on tattoo scars one year). Then my LBD, heels, elbow-length purple mesh finger-less gloves. And the piece-de-resistance... the black barbed-wire veil! Best. Costume. Ever. IMO.
A couple years ago, the answer would have been Hubs, for sure. But I think I've come a long way in the kitchen, I'm probably equal now. Some things are my specialty (lasagna, cookies, potato pancakes, rice salad, chili, egg rolls, pot roast) and some things are his (steak, oven-fried potatoes, anything barbecued).
2. How often do you talk to your mom?
Almost every day! If a couple days go by with no contact, either she or I will phone each other and its always "It seems like forever since I talked to you!", haha. Many times I will be thinking of calling her and just about to grab the phone (once I was even mid-dial) and the phone will ring, and its her! We have this mind-link thing going on.
3. Are you adventurous in the kitchen or stick to the recipe?
I try to stick to the recipe. That way, if it doesn't turn out I know its not my fault! And when the kids and Hubs complain about it, I can honestly say "Hey, I followed the recipe!". Gotta cover my bases.
4. Is your second toe longer than your big toe?
No, its almost a centimetre shorter. Hubs and Gunnar, however, have equal-length big and second toes. Weird!
5. Do you dress up for Halloween? (Bonus question: What will you be this year?)
Yep. To both questions. And its usually the same thing: zombie bride or vampire. I tease my hair until its a wild tangled mess, add some plastic spiders and leaves to it. Pale face with bluish-purple bruises under the eyes, heavy eye makeup, fake blood dripping from my mouth, a few fake scars (I got these really cool stick-on tattoo scars one year). Then my LBD, heels, elbow-length purple mesh finger-less gloves. And the piece-de-resistance... the black barbed-wire veil! Best. Costume. Ever. IMO.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Five Question Friday
1. If you could speak with a different accent, what would it be (i.e Australian, Scottish)?
Oooo, I like this question! I think Aussie accents sound ridiculous (sorry, mates!); Scottish accents, while very sexy, can be way too thick and hard to interpret; Irish accents are lyrical and musical but you still sound like a leprechaun ("They're after me gold!"); there are so many different variations of an English accent, you either sound like an upper-cruster with a stick up your butt or a lowly commoner hawking fish on the street ("Fresh caught today, guv'na!"); Newfie accents are freakin' hilarious and awesome but its hard to be taken seriously when people are too busy holding their gut and rolling on the floor, laughing at you; I'm not even going to touch on Asian accents, too stereotypical; Russian accents are too scary; Polish/Swedish/whatever -- no way ("Smorgie-board!" -- the Swedish chef, get it?); I love French accents, very sexy when done right, but when I hear one I tend to picture the person with a thin black mustache wearing a beret, scarf and black-and-white striped shirt, doing mime.
No, I think the only two accents I would like to have are either Italian or Spanish. Not Mexican-type Spanish ("Seee, seee-nyoor") but more like Sofia Vargara's accent on Modern Family. She has the natural accent but plays it up for the character. Very sexy, very fiery.
2. Can you fall asleep anywhere? (i.e floor, couch, deck)
I guess it depends on how tired I am. I can definitely fall asleep on the couch, have fallen asleep in chairs before, on the beach, on the grass, in tents and vehicles. So actually, I guess the answer is 'yes'. Hah.
3. Do you use public restrooms? If so, do you sit on the toilet?
When necessity demands it, yes. If the bathroom looks sketchy in any way, I do the 'hover' thing. And by 'sketchy', I mean dirty, toilet paper on the floor, stained toilet bowl, water all over the sink counter, dirty mirrors, etc. And if the toilet is 'full', fuhgeddaboutit.
4. If you were stuck in an elevator for 24 hours, what celebrity would you most want to be stuck with?
Um, derrrr, ADAM LAMBERT, of course. That poor guy wouldn't know what hit him. I'd probably try to be nice about it at first, but there would be no getting away. I would violate that boy in ways you've never even heard about, heh heh heh. If that disturbs you, just be glad you don't live in my brain. But would he still respect me in the morning? Who cares! I could die happy knowing I crossed my #1 off The List.
5. Where did you and your significant other go on your 1st date?
You mean I have to try and remember back that far? Okay... *digging through mental files*... I can definitely say that less than a week into our 'going out' we went to Edgefest together; don't know if you'd classify that as a date, per se. We also went out for dinner at Our Flames that first week, and to a couple of house parties. We don't really go on 'dates' because every night is date night for us.
Oooo, I like this question! I think Aussie accents sound ridiculous (sorry, mates!); Scottish accents, while very sexy, can be way too thick and hard to interpret; Irish accents are lyrical and musical but you still sound like a leprechaun ("They're after me gold!"); there are so many different variations of an English accent, you either sound like an upper-cruster with a stick up your butt or a lowly commoner hawking fish on the street ("Fresh caught today, guv'na!"); Newfie accents are freakin' hilarious and awesome but its hard to be taken seriously when people are too busy holding their gut and rolling on the floor, laughing at you; I'm not even going to touch on Asian accents, too stereotypical; Russian accents are too scary; Polish/Swedish/whatever -- no way ("Smorgie-board!" -- the Swedish chef, get it?); I love French accents, very sexy when done right, but when I hear one I tend to picture the person with a thin black mustache wearing a beret, scarf and black-and-white striped shirt, doing mime.
No, I think the only two accents I would like to have are either Italian or Spanish. Not Mexican-type Spanish ("Seee, seee-nyoor") but more like Sofia Vargara's accent on Modern Family. She has the natural accent but plays it up for the character. Very sexy, very fiery.
2. Can you fall asleep anywhere? (i.e floor, couch, deck)
I guess it depends on how tired I am. I can definitely fall asleep on the couch, have fallen asleep in chairs before, on the beach, on the grass, in tents and vehicles. So actually, I guess the answer is 'yes'. Hah.
3. Do you use public restrooms? If so, do you sit on the toilet?
When necessity demands it, yes. If the bathroom looks sketchy in any way, I do the 'hover' thing. And by 'sketchy', I mean dirty, toilet paper on the floor, stained toilet bowl, water all over the sink counter, dirty mirrors, etc. And if the toilet is 'full', fuhgeddaboutit.
4. If you were stuck in an elevator for 24 hours, what celebrity would you most want to be stuck with?
Um, derrrr, ADAM LAMBERT, of course. That poor guy wouldn't know what hit him. I'd probably try to be nice about it at first, but there would be no getting away. I would violate that boy in ways you've never even heard about, heh heh heh. If that disturbs you, just be glad you don't live in my brain. But would he still respect me in the morning? Who cares! I could die happy knowing I crossed my #1 off The List.
5. Where did you and your significant other go on your 1st date?
You mean I have to try and remember back that far? Okay... *digging through mental files*... I can definitely say that less than a week into our 'going out' we went to Edgefest together; don't know if you'd classify that as a date, per se. We also went out for dinner at Our Flames that first week, and to a couple of house parties. We don't really go on 'dates' because every night is date night for us.
Friday, August 6, 2010
I Love my Husband (and Kayaking)
Tyler and I went out on the lake kayaking last night. It was my very first time on a kayak, I was very nervous about tipping but once I found my center of gravity, I was fine. Took me about five minutes of wobbling and gasping and frantic paddling, but I got it. Then another five minutes to figure out how to use the paddle efficiently (read: not dousing myself with water every stroke) so I could keep up with Tyler. But boy, did I ever wow that husband of mine when I zipped right past him and he couldn't keep up! Haha.
We had a truly wonderful time. Started out on the far east side of the lake, Petro Beach I think its called; paddled into the reedy area and saw a mama duck with her babies. Ty was of course looking for schools of perch, no luck. Then we cruised along the shore, looking at all the cool houses and cabins and mini-mansions. On a side note, how lovely would it be to own property down there, your own personal private beach with sand and all that water right at your backdoor. We chuckled with evil glee at all the bird poop on the boats docked in the water, especially to see the black protective coverings just covered with white streaks.
Interrupted a young couple's canoodling when we drifted by, they frantically put their clothes back on and hustled away, har har har. We had a little race, and by 'little' I mean a full-on frantic mad dash to the finish line. Which I won, of course. Ty attributed it to my "much faster" kayak, but come on, we all know it was due to my awesome arm muscles, haha.
My kayak kept having a tendency to crash into Tyler's, and honestly I wasn't even trying to do it. Every time we tried to paddle nicely beside each other I would somehow end up bumping into the side of him. In retaliation, he thought it would be downright hilarious to try to tip my kayak by pushing mine with his oar or grabbing the end rope handle and shaking me around. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tip me. Revenge was sweet when I did the same to him and he almost DID tip, teetering back and forth, madly trying to regain his balance. Muahaha!
We floated side by side and watched the sun set, it was glorious and romantic and just simply heaven. The sun was a brilliant red and set in a matter of minutes, and just as the last rays reached us he grabbed my kayak, pulled me closer and kissed me. *sigh* What a man!
On our way back to shore, of all things a bagpipe started playing. And not from a radio or recording, someone was actually on the beach playing a bagpipe. It was cool for the first five minutes, listening to the haunting music as we paddled, but after ten minutes, then twenty, all we wanted to do was find that damn bagpiper and fill his instrument with sand! Finally we floated by the musician, only to see he was playing to an audience. A group of people were sitting around a fire listening, but it was hilarious, you could tell they were thinking, 'Ohmygod, when is it ever going to end??' It was truly painful. High-pitched squees and tribbles (that's what I call them, ha), going on forever and ever and ever. My eardrums almost exploded. We were never so happy as to reach shore and quickly pack up and get out of there.
I am definitely in love with kayaking, though. We can't wait to get out again, next time maybe we'll go to Kuusamo Beach, now that I'm considered capable enough to handle the kayak without tipping myself. The water is much deeper there. So ya, that was our version of a wonderful romantic evening. We're the Kayaking Kashas!
We had a truly wonderful time. Started out on the far east side of the lake, Petro Beach I think its called; paddled into the reedy area and saw a mama duck with her babies. Ty was of course looking for schools of perch, no luck. Then we cruised along the shore, looking at all the cool houses and cabins and mini-mansions. On a side note, how lovely would it be to own property down there, your own personal private beach with sand and all that water right at your backdoor. We chuckled with evil glee at all the bird poop on the boats docked in the water, especially to see the black protective coverings just covered with white streaks.
Interrupted a young couple's canoodling when we drifted by, they frantically put their clothes back on and hustled away, har har har. We had a little race, and by 'little' I mean a full-on frantic mad dash to the finish line. Which I won, of course. Ty attributed it to my "much faster" kayak, but come on, we all know it was due to my awesome arm muscles, haha.
My kayak kept having a tendency to crash into Tyler's, and honestly I wasn't even trying to do it. Every time we tried to paddle nicely beside each other I would somehow end up bumping into the side of him. In retaliation, he thought it would be downright hilarious to try to tip my kayak by pushing mine with his oar or grabbing the end rope handle and shaking me around. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tip me. Revenge was sweet when I did the same to him and he almost DID tip, teetering back and forth, madly trying to regain his balance. Muahaha!
We floated side by side and watched the sun set, it was glorious and romantic and just simply heaven. The sun was a brilliant red and set in a matter of minutes, and just as the last rays reached us he grabbed my kayak, pulled me closer and kissed me. *sigh* What a man!
On our way back to shore, of all things a bagpipe started playing. And not from a radio or recording, someone was actually on the beach playing a bagpipe. It was cool for the first five minutes, listening to the haunting music as we paddled, but after ten minutes, then twenty, all we wanted to do was find that damn bagpiper and fill his instrument with sand! Finally we floated by the musician, only to see he was playing to an audience. A group of people were sitting around a fire listening, but it was hilarious, you could tell they were thinking, 'Ohmygod, when is it ever going to end??' It was truly painful. High-pitched squees and tribbles (that's what I call them, ha), going on forever and ever and ever. My eardrums almost exploded. We were never so happy as to reach shore and quickly pack up and get out of there.
I am definitely in love with kayaking, though. We can't wait to get out again, next time maybe we'll go to Kuusamo Beach, now that I'm considered capable enough to handle the kayak without tipping myself. The water is much deeper there. So ya, that was our version of a wonderful romantic evening. We're the Kayaking Kashas!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Peeve of the Week: Ciggie Butts
We were at the acreage last night, cleaning the 2-mile stretch of ditch that runs from the stop sign at 781 to the crossroads by Earl and Ruby's. Earlier in the week, we'd made arrangements with Levi and Mom (Granny Hag) that we would meet out there Wednesday night to finally get it done. Levi had to cancel due to an unexpected night shift and so we all decided to reschedule.
It was such a beautiful evening though, that Tyler and I loaded up the kids, along with the quad and little trailer, and headed out there. Ty dropped me and the three oldest off right there at the stop sign with our garbage bags and gloves, then he continued on to the acreage with Ryder. Lena, Gunnar, Ardan and I made a fan formation and swept through the ditch like little litter-picking machines. I had the top section by the edge of the road, the protective mother in me coming out I guess. Plus I didn't have to wade through deep grass, haha. The downside?
Cigarette butts.
First off, I was guilty of it myself so I can't judge too harshly. But then again, hell YES I can judge, and curse at, and flat out want to ass-kick those ignorant cusses that huck their butts out the car window. I probably picked up well over 200 butts along that 2-mile stretch. And while that number may not seem that high, picture yourself having to bend over and pick up a tiny white piece of foam buried in gravel and grass. Over 200 times.
By the time we finished the entire north side of the ditch, two and a half hours had passed, dusk was well upon us, my legs, back and arms were aching, and we had six full garbage bags. We had a good time, though. The kids and I walked the ditch until we got to the power plant (whatever that thing is), where Tyler and Ryder were waiting with the quad and trailer. The kids all hopped in the trailer and Tyler pulled them back to the acreage while I continued walking and picking. By the time I made it there they'd all had a nice rest and drink of water, and were ready to carry on. We hadn't planned on doing the full two miles, but then we thought Why not? It was still light enough out, I had tons of energy, and I didn't want to waste the opportunity of having all those sets of helping hands.
For that second-mile stretch Gunnar and I walked, doing the upward slope of the ditch, while Ty rode beside us on the quad with the three youngest in the trailer, and they did the level part of the ditch. Eventually even Gunnar hopped in and then it was just me walking. And picking. Trudging along in my black-and-white polka dot rubber boots, jean capris, black tee, black hat, sunglasses and work gloves. Quite the sight, I'm sure.
I've never been so satisfied with a job well done as I was when we finally finished. Threw my heavy, full bag into the trailer with the kids and hopped on the quad. Ty scooted back so I could drive (copped a feel when the kids weren't looking, niiiice) and we tooted along at a nice slow pace back to the acreage. I was shocked to see the time was 10pm! On the way home past Mac's, we stopped and got our hard-working, deserving kids some screamers. Kids hit the sack immediately, after I made them wash their hands and faces of course!
Here's a small sample of some of the items we collected:
It was such a beautiful evening though, that Tyler and I loaded up the kids, along with the quad and little trailer, and headed out there. Ty dropped me and the three oldest off right there at the stop sign with our garbage bags and gloves, then he continued on to the acreage with Ryder. Lena, Gunnar, Ardan and I made a fan formation and swept through the ditch like little litter-picking machines. I had the top section by the edge of the road, the protective mother in me coming out I guess. Plus I didn't have to wade through deep grass, haha. The downside?
Cigarette butts.
First off, I was guilty of it myself so I can't judge too harshly. But then again, hell YES I can judge, and curse at, and flat out want to ass-kick those ignorant cusses that huck their butts out the car window. I probably picked up well over 200 butts along that 2-mile stretch. And while that number may not seem that high, picture yourself having to bend over and pick up a tiny white piece of foam buried in gravel and grass. Over 200 times.
By the time we finished the entire north side of the ditch, two and a half hours had passed, dusk was well upon us, my legs, back and arms were aching, and we had six full garbage bags. We had a good time, though. The kids and I walked the ditch until we got to the power plant (whatever that thing is), where Tyler and Ryder were waiting with the quad and trailer. The kids all hopped in the trailer and Tyler pulled them back to the acreage while I continued walking and picking. By the time I made it there they'd all had a nice rest and drink of water, and were ready to carry on. We hadn't planned on doing the full two miles, but then we thought Why not? It was still light enough out, I had tons of energy, and I didn't want to waste the opportunity of having all those sets of helping hands.
For that second-mile stretch Gunnar and I walked, doing the upward slope of the ditch, while Ty rode beside us on the quad with the three youngest in the trailer, and they did the level part of the ditch. Eventually even Gunnar hopped in and then it was just me walking. And picking. Trudging along in my black-and-white polka dot rubber boots, jean capris, black tee, black hat, sunglasses and work gloves. Quite the sight, I'm sure.
I've never been so satisfied with a job well done as I was when we finally finished. Threw my heavy, full bag into the trailer with the kids and hopped on the quad. Ty scooted back so I could drive (copped a feel when the kids weren't looking, niiiice) and we tooted along at a nice slow pace back to the acreage. I was shocked to see the time was 10pm! On the way home past Mac's, we stopped and got our hard-working, deserving kids some screamers. Kids hit the sack immediately, after I made them wash their hands and faces of course!
Here's a small sample of some of the items we collected:
- the bleached-out skull, ribs and vertebrae of a deer, and one furry knee-to-hoof deer leg
- an entire garbage bag of beer and pop cans, juice boxes, beer bottles, and one wine bottle
- giant plastic potting soil bag
- metres of plastic twine
- twisted metal and cables
- fast food containers, drinks, straws, cutlery and bags
- two used condoms, GROSS! (Ardan says "Mom look at this cool thing I found!" and holds up a bright blue slightly-decomposed condom, I shrieked "Drop it in your bag!!!" Gunnar laughed hysterically)
- a CD case, sans CD, of some really lame wannabe-grunge band
- about ten used packets of Arby's ketchup
- pieces of foam
- soggy giant cardboard box
- shredded pieces of tire
- 10+ cigarette packs
And of course, the hundreds upon hundreds of cigarette butts. There was a ton of other miscellaneous stuff, the majority of it plastic. It makes me sad that so many people think nothing of littering, and such random junk too. Like, someone was eating a pudding cup while driving and then just thought, No way I'm waiting to throw this in an actual garbage can, I'll just toss it now! Hey wait a minute, it was probably some school kid hucking it out the bus window, don't you think? Darn brat kids.
But seriously, the cigarette butts. It keeps coming back to that. A smoker thinks nothing of tossing the butt, its so tiny and seemingly insignificant. But that little non-biodegradable piece of foam is full of chemicals and toxins that leach into the soil.
So to any smokers reading this (you know who you are), its time to consider buying a portable travel ashtray to keep in your vehicle. They're cheap, found at most dollar stores. Time to go green, people, time to think about your impact on the world around you.
And to the person who dumped a frickin' ROTTEN DECOMPOSED COW'S HEAD in the ditch, screw you. You are evil. Something is wrong with you, mentally. Screw. You.
(P.S. Figured out the calories burned for this exercise -- using that new website -- 2.5 hours continuous walking at steady pace holding 0-9 pounds, on slight incline through gravel and high grass, repeated bending and grabbing motions: just over 1400 calories burned! NICE)
Monday, March 22, 2010
I'm a lucky woman
I have the best husband, I really do. Sure he's allergic to housework and is incapable of picking up his dirty socks, but in the grand scheme of life, the 'big picture', its not those little things that measure his worth as a husband and father. It was a beautiful sunny day yesterday, Sunday, and mid-morning we all decided to go on a family bike ride to the Lion's park (by the cop shop). Hubs got everyone's bikes out and ready, topped up the tires with air, set up Ryder's carrier, while I filled up water bottles. I got the easy job, haha. We had a lovely ride, the little ones played while the big boys went to the skate park, then we all rode back home and had lunch.
After Ryder's nap, Tyler got the kids all dressed warmly (it had cooled down considerably), packed up the truck, and out they all went to the acreage to shoot off some fireworks Hubs had found in the garage.
And what did I do? Though I had a kitchen floor crying to be mopped and an everest of laundry waiting downstairs, my lovely hubby insisted that I "just chill out and relax because you deserve it!"
So I lazed on the couch reading a book and watching tv, enjoying the utter peace and quiet, sending up silent thanks for the man I married.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Thank You
I was moved by the Christmas spirit today and thought I'd send out some heart-felt thanks...TO GRANDMA DEA
For never hesitating to say yes when I ask if you can watch the kids for me, or for rearranging your work schedule so you can say yes; they adore you and love to spend time at your house (as evidenced by Ryder's obsession with "DD!").
TO LEVI AND AMBER
For making time in your lives and schedules to do fun activities with my kids, like taking them all swimming or to the movies; and for taking an interest in the boys' hockey games, finding out their schedules so you can attend games, even if the game is not in Sylvan (and bringing the little ones timbits!).
TO TRAPPER
For being interested in me, in my life, what I'm doing, how I'm doing; for the hours-long phone conversations we've had; for the quick little visits just to chitchat and catch up.
TO GRAMMA HAG
For calling me whenever I am on your mind, even if its just to torment me with a ZZ Top song blaring in my ear.
TO CHRISTINE
For not holding it over my head that I didn't see baby Carleigh until she was over four months old; for giving honest, thoughtful advice when I need it; for being my BFF for twenty years.
TO KELLY
For keeping in touch with me from half the world away, for always being the one to call; for accepting and encouraging my inner freak, because we are soul-mates that way (LOL).
Thank you, everyone, for being who you are. I love you!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
A Story about Sterility
As I laid in the hospital bed, wearing the gown and robe, all tucked in under a warm blanket, I thought back to the day I'd booked the surgery. Way back in July it was, the 6th, and I remember thinking at the time that five months was forever, and with my luck I'd get pregnant in the meantime. But the months had flown by and here I was, anxiously awaiting my turn in the OR.The male student nurse, Cameron, chattered happily as he filled in his paperwork and took my vitals. When it came time to insert the IV, I had to tell him, somewhat apologetically, that my veins suck and he should be prepared to search for one for like half an hour. He groaned in misery as only a student nurse can. Even with the help of his supervisor, they were unable to find the vein. Poked the needle in my wrist, yes, but find an actual vein, no.
In came the senior RN and she was not happy to see them fiddling around with this needle in my arm. "I really wish you two would've waited until after she's had her suppository."
Um, what now?! My head whipped toward her in disbelief. "You're kidding right?" She shook her head. Apparently Dr Marais likes his patients to have a suppository before surgery, for pain relief. "Uh yeah, I'd much rather have a pill or something." Another head shake. I was handed the small bullet-shaped object, with some frickin' LUBE (classy) and sent on my merry way to the bathroom.
There's nothing quite like that waddling walk of shame back to the bed afterward, where you know that they know what you were just doing. I did my best to be cool about it.
Finally, the IV was in and after almost an hour of nervous, anxious waiting, a nurse came in to get me and away we went. I was led down a winding hallway, into the OR and helped up on to the table. Its pretty surreal to see a room full of people and know that in a few minutes you'll be out like a light while they all work on your naked body. The anaesthesia was administered into my IV and I was told to keep my eyes open. I remember telling myself, 'Okay, stay awake and remember the exact moment the drug hits you...'
Of course, that thought cut off mid-way and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the recovery room. In extreme pain. Coming to with the sounds of my own groaning and crying. I honestly did not expect that. I was led to believe that this would be a piddly little surgery, in and out, with minimal recovery time, only needing tylenol for the pain.
LIES!
I'd been the first patient in the OR, yet was the last one to wake up from the anaesthesia. I heard a nurse talking about how the suppository reacts with the anaesthetic and makes recovery harder. Gee thanks Dr Marais. My entire upper back and neck were rigid and stiff, I couldn't even move my neck, and my lower back was on fire. Constant back spasms. I've honestly never felt anything like that since having back labor with the kids. I was literally gasping for breath as I tried to do calming yoga breaths.
Eventually a nurse noticed my agony and brought me some pills. Finally! I thought, only to have her tell me they take up to half an hour to kick in. I frantically tried to alleviate the lower back pain by scissoring my legs in the bed, even attempted to roll to my side to take some of the pressure off. Big mistake. There's no moving around after abdominal surgery. I was a writhing, groaning, moaning, sobbing mess.
I was helped in to a sitting position, then led toward the bathroom so I could go pee. Quite a process in itself. Another nurse came to take me for a 'walk' around the hallway, to help with the back pain. And while it did seem to help for those five minutes, the second I was back in bed it returned with a vengeance. And the pills still hadn't kicked in.
By this time, I'm thinking 'Okay, its gotta be about 2 o'clock, maybe 2:30'. Then I heard a deep voice hesitantly asking "I'm looking for my wife, her name is Beau?" It was Tyler, with Lena and Ryder.
See, my surgery was booked in the Olds hospital, as it would've been up to a 3 YEAR wait for Red Deer. So Hubs had taken the day off work, drove me to the hospital, then toodled around with No.3 & 4 for a couple hours. I'd packed a big lunch for them all that morning, and activity bags, and they'd made plans to visit Bass Pro while I was in surgery. We'd been told the surgery would take 3-4 hours. So by our calculations, he'd come to get me around 2-3pm. So I was thinking, Wow, right on time! when he walked in to the recovery room.
Turns out it was actually 4:30pm! That's how long I'd been out. Poor Ty was looking a little frazzled and who could blame him? Imagine trying to entertain and keep occupied two little kids for over 6 hours! So even though I wasn't physically ready to leave the hospital, mentally and emotionally I wanted the heck outta there. The nurses refused to give me something stronger to help with the pain for the ride home, even after I'd told them we had over an hours' drive home and my back was killing me. Bitches!
So I toughed it out. I was a shaking mess by the time we got home, barely able to walk to the house, barely able to talk. Hubs managed to scrounge up a perc for me and tucked me into a little nest on the couch with a couple of heating pads for my back. Soon I was in a cloud of foggy-headed bliss while the kids anxiously flitted about me, telling me how much they loved me and could they get me anything?
Its kinda nice being 'sick' (as kids see it) sometimes, it provides you with these outpourings of emotions you normally wouldn't be privy to.
The thing with my back, fyi, was caused because of the anaesthetic. (It always come back to that, doesn't it?) When you're put under, laying there, the drug tends to settle in the muscles of your back, especially the shoulders and neck. In my case it also settled in my lower back, and it didn't help that the hospital bed I was in was harder than a rock and my upper body was up on an angle, putting pressure and weight on that area. The nurses said basically all you can do is shoulder-and-back stretching exercises and use heating pads. And its now been three days since the surgery and I can honestly say my back is STILL f*cked up.
As to my 'war wounds', all I have to show for them is two puncture marks, one inside my belly button (*shudder*) and the other two inches below. Its funny, before the surgery as I was laying in the bed waiting, I read over the pamphlet and was astounded to read all these things I should not do before surgery. One of which was shaving the area where the incision would be. "For 10 days prior, one should not shave that area" it read. Um, oops! But seriously, tell me what woman, with a healthy dose of vanity, would just let that area be wild and free when she knew the doctor and nurses would be all up in there? Right? So that was one thing I did wrong. Another was wearing makeup. Of course, I put on makeup, what's it going to harm if I have mascara and lipstick on? Stupid rules.
Overall though, I'm really happy I had the surgery. No more worrying and stressing when it gets closer to that time of the month, wondering if this is month my luck runs out (seeing how Hubs has Olympic swimmers). We can be like rabid little, well, rabbits. Not that we weren't before but now there's no repercussions! Woohoo!
So just a word of advice here, it would probably be a good idea to call before you drop in! You never know what your eyeballs will be witness to, right?
LOL
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