The Husband thinks I'm crazy

And he may be right...

I have my quirks, I admit. I have a touch of OCD, and I don't say that lightly, it's true. I was reading a post by a blogger who was documenting the construction process of her new home, and she wrote about how a few things were really bugging her, in an OCD kind of way. I nearly choked on my coffee when I read the statement, "I like 90 degree angles." I thought, "Girl, I know what you mean!" There are a few things in my house, which we built, that drive me nuts when I think about them. Like my blogger friend, they, too, have to do with angles. To use her words about misaligned angles,

"They make me ache."

What an accurate description! I had never articulated it that way, but that's exactly how it feels. In my house, I have problems with our fireplace as well as with our pantry. The trim work on the fireplace is most definitely NOT at a right angle. The decorative fluted posts that come down on each side - crooked. I don't think anyone else has ever noticed. I sure did. Our fireplace is the focal point of the one great big room we have downstairs, and it's crooked. Not a lot, but enough that every time I notice it, which is every few days, is does make me ache a little inside.

Seriously.

Our pantry, too, is crooked. It's built out a bit, one side of the pantry boxes out the fridge and the other is a little wall that sticks out about three feet. This one seriously gives me the heebie geebies when I notice it. I mean I know there's a tool out there whose sole purpose is to make sure you are building at a right angle! Use it!

Now on to the other reason my husband thinks I crazy. I have fears. I think they stem from the same OCD-thing, but they are a bit different. For a long time, I kept most of these fears under a lid. Until I had children, that is. Nothing like motherhood to bring OCD out into overdrive! Ok, now onto the latest reason why The Husband thinks I'm crazy. Little Man and Baby Girl share a room, and it's upstairs. It's a good size room, but it has to hold a twin bed, a crib, a dresser, a bookcase, a glider, and an ottoman. Oh yeah, and toys. So, there aren't a lot of options for ways to arrange the room. So in order to make the room inviting and functional, we ended up pushing Little Man's bed against an outside wall - a wall with two windows. The head of his bed was against one of the windows. Not ideal, but our windows have great sturdy locks that his little hands can't open, so I didn't worry, and for his comfort we put pillows against the window, so it seemed to be fine...

Until one day I thought of earthquakes. I thought, "what if we have an earthquake, the window breaks, and due to the shaking Little Man rolls right off the bed, out the window, and falls onto the concrete below?!" A valid concern, I thought, I mean we do live in a seismic zone. True we haven't had a major earthquake in over a hundred years or so, but they always say around here to be ready for "the big one", just in case. So I voice my concerns to The Husband, who first looks at me as if I'd literally just dropped all my marbles on the floor and was drooling on them. He doesn't say a thing. A few days later I voice my concerns again, I just want him to say, "Yeah, that could happen, but it won't. Don't worry about it." Snort, yeah right. He pretty much tells me he loves me, but I must be crazy if I'm worried about that. End of conversation. I can see we're going to get nowhere with this. So a few months go by and I can't let my fears go (OCD!). So today, I did something about it.

I rearranged the kids' room.

There was only one other way to do it and keep all the necessary furniture in the room. So I did it. It's functional and safe...not as cute as it used to be, but I love it anyway. It just feels right, if only because I won't think about earthquakes as I'm tucking Little Man in at night anymore. One less thing to worry about, right!

I can't wait to see what The Husband will say about this when he gets home.

Thoughts from Vacation...

Here are a few things I jotted down (er, typed) while on vacation. They aren't really well thought out or anything, just a few things and feeling I wanted to remember. Here they are:

Little Man watches a lot of Noggin, and they have this song that one of the Noggin characters sings,

"We're goin' on a trip, we're goin' on a trip. duhdudhdudh.......Are we there yet, are we there yet? My excitement's getting stronger. Are we there yet, are we there yet? I really can't wait much longer! We're goin' on a trip, we're goin' on a trip!" The past two years we've sung that song to ourselves in the car, and, no, we still don't know all the words!

The beach is the most wonderful, beautiful place on Earth.

Vacation with two children is a lot harder than vacation with one child.

The Husband works - a lot - and comes home around dinner, which is right before bedtime for the kids...so he's not used to being around the kids so much. I'm having a great time watching The Husband, it's like he's in childcare boot camp. We're laughing a lot!

On our third day of vacation, The Husband went to change Baby Girl's diaper. After a minute he came back and said, "where are the diapers?" Um, ok, the diapers have been in the same place for the last three days... (on day seven he did the same thing - WTHeck! - is someone shirking diaper duty?)

Little Man is having the time of his life with his cousins, whom he hasn't seen since he was 19 months old. He's picking up all sorts of boyish behaviors - hitting, kicking, rough housing, doesn't sound great but it's been fun! (Saying he's having the time of his life doesn't even come close to describing it, he is loving every minute of this! His little personality is really sparkling right now, he's laughing, joking, being mischievous - he couldn't be happier!)

You can spend an entire afternoon at Build-A-Bear and the kids will stay occupied the whole time.

Little Man has regressed a bit with his potty training, which I expected. What I didn't expect was that he would pick a spot in the condo and "use the bathroom" there repeatedly, kind of like a dog would do. Later on during the week he gave up using the potty all together, and, after three accidents in as many hours, we switched back to pull-ups. Oh well, guess Little Man decided he was on vacation, too, and he didn't want to work (i.e. potty train)!


On day five we decided to book an extra day!! It's beautiful here, sunny, hot, breezy, warm water...heaven.

Day six and Little Man, Baby Girl, and I were getting ready for the beach (The Husband, his brother, and the older cousins went on a half day fishing trip). Anyway, Little Man decided he was afraid of "sunscream" and threw a holy living fit while I was trying to apply it. Finally I made him lay down to calm down, within two minutes he was sound asleep. Then Baby Girl fell asleep...sigh, not making it to the beach this morning.

Laundry, dishes, diapers, temper tantrums...is a mom ever really on vacation?

The Husband and I had our fifth wedding anniversary while we were down here. We went to a very nice restaurant with huge windows overlooking a marina, it was beautiful, dinner was delicious, and the company was the best! It had been a long time since The Husband and I had gone out together, it was a much-needed date!

Little Man started trying to kick in the pool, last year he was afraid and would only stay in the kiddie pool. Baby Girl, however, loved the water, and would stay in all day if we let her!

The last night my sister, another friend, and I went out to eat - no kids and no husbands - the perfect way to end a trip!

I hate packing up - hate it! I don't mind the clothes and toiletries, but DREAD the patio and kitchen packing. Somehow, this year, I did about 90% of the patio, kitchen, and clothes. How did this happen?!

The Husband told me about a conversation between him and Little Man when they were in the ocean (Little Man was very afraid of the ocean, and would scream and cry if either of his parents went in the water - he was afraid for us, sweet thing - anyway, on the last day he finally went in, and loved it!): While playing in the water with his daddy, Little Man goes, "Daddy, where's the drain?"

Most of the way home Little Man kept saying, "Are we going to the beach? I want to go to the beach!" I approve, Little Man, you have good taste in vacations! :)

...As A Doorknob

The Husband's family came in town a few days ago. His brother, brother's wife, and their three children to be exact. I'll just call them The Family for the purposes of this post. The Family has lived overseas for about eight years now, and usually visit for a few weeks in the summer. It's been a good year and a half since we've seen them this time (longer than usual), and it truly is enjoyable when they visit. We've seen them twice since they've arrived, and, well, it's seems that during this visit there is an unwelcome side affect...

I feel as dumb as a doorknob.

Now let me say that this has nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with how The Family is acting. They are all sweet as can be. It has everything to do with me.

A little background...

I used to think I was smart, and I used to feel smart. It feels so nice to feel like a smart person. Anyway, I always made good grades in school, and people used to tell me how smart I was. I went to a college prep high school, took honors classes, and graduated with honors. I received a full scholarship to college, and, except for that one semester freshman year, I made excellent grades. (I had a lot of fun that semester!) Again, I graduated with honors. I was accepted into a very competitive and nationally ranked program for graduate school. They don't "give honors" in graduate school, but if they did I would have received them. Then I applied for and was offered a position in my dream job, at my dream company. I began work; I loved it and was good at it. You get the drift, I led a charmed life for a few years, everything fell nicely into place, everything went well, and the icing on the cake was that I felt smart and accomplished. This went on for a while, until I had Little Man (no offense, Little Man).

Once I had a baby, I quit my job. I stayed home. I changed diapers, watched Baby Einstein, and cleaned house. That was about the extent of use of my mental capacity. Then I had another baby. More diapers, more cleaning, more staying at home. Now don't get me wrong, I love staying home with my babies, but it has definitely sapped me of my smartness. I think over the past three years I must have lost many, many brain cells. One here, one there...a sleepless night, there go a whole bucket load. For me, I went into survival mode when I had the babies. Only the bare necessities got done. In fact, I still feel like I'm in survival mode, nine months later. Even my self talk has changed, instead of hearing complete, complex sentences, what I hear is more like this: "Must change diaper, grunt, grunt. Wipe lunch off face, grunt, grunt. Clean floor so baby no choke on dirt and leaf, grunt grunt. Feed baby milk, grunt." You get the idea.

Now onto The Family who is visiting. My brother and sister-in-law are brilliant. I don't mean that as an expression, either, they are bona fide brilliant. They also work in demanding careers that require them to use their full mental capabilities on a daily basis. What I'm trying to say is that they have many, many active brain cells. So here they come to visit, right during a spell where Baby Girl is not sleeping. By not sleeping I mean that she wakes up about 1 am every night, and really doesn't go back into a deep sleep, until about 7:30 The Next Night. So I am so, so very sleep deprived and losing brain cells at an alarming rate. I'm having a hard time solving the simplest of problems. If I had to take one of my own cognitive screenings from work I would probably fail. Dementia, anyone? So we've seen The Family twice now, and, well, whenever we see them I feel about as smart as a box of rocks. Not a very good feeling. The Husband says I'm crazy, but I feel what I feel. I'm just trying to console myself with the knowledge that my brother and sister-in-law are, above all else, really good people. They are also parents, so they know what I'm going through. Still...

Maybe one day, hopefully very soon, I'll start finding some of those much-missed brain cells...