Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Not A Father's Day Post about my Dad

See this guy?
Dad drinking his first and probably last martini at my cousin's wedding.

This is my dad and I would have to say that I adorn this picture of him.  He isn't a silly kind of person. He is very pragmatic and has a cut-to-the-chase way of talking.  Even if he goes about it in a meandering kind of way. 

For example, I called my dad last week to plan to do something for Father's Day.  There is a steak house down town that has a pretty damn good steak and is vetted in history of Phoenix, which is hard to come byin a valley that is only 100 years old.  Ever since I went there I have wanted to take my dad.  So when I called him and asked if he wanted to go out to eat on Saturday night his response was slow but eventually to the point. 

"Well you know a week before I went to Nebraska I lost the bridge on the top teeth."  Mind you his trip was at the beginning of June. "I went to the dentist and they glued in back in.  Then the day I left for Nebraska the bottom bridge fell out. I figured I would have them glue it while I was in Nebraska.  But you know that dentist there wanted to take xrays and everything so I just said forget it."  Shocking that the dentist would want to see your teeth before just gluing back in a piece that might have fallen out for a reason.  "So when I got back in town I went to the dentist over here and he said that before they could fix that I needed a root canal.  On two teeth.  So I'm going to the dentist on Friday to have both root canals done and then go back on the 26th for them to put the bridge back in." 

"Holy cow Dad, are you going to be able to eat steak?"

"Well" But mind you Dad's "wells" have always sounded more like an exhale than a word, "I don't know."

"Have you ever heard of The Stockyard?  That's where I want to take you."

"You know when I was in Nebraska at the reunion" His 50th high school reunion, "there was this guy who was in the class above me. We started talking.  He married this girl who was in my class.  They have a daughter.  He was saying how their daughter lives in Peoria and asked if I knew where 91st Avenue and Deer Valley was.  I said well that's about a mile away from me.  Well her and her husband manage the Texas steak house or what ever" Texas Roadhouse, "over at I17 and Dunlap."

"So do you want to go to Texas Roadhouse then instead of The Stockyards?" The historical, expensive renowned prime choice cuts of beef Stockyard?  You want to go to a chain???

"Well, what ever works."

We went to The Stockyard and Dad ate a huge medium rare prime rib steak.  He said it was good but nothing like what you could get in Nebraska.  Ok love you Dad.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

I'm going somewhere with this and I hope to get something free at the end

So the Internet and the conspiracy theorists are up in arms about the PRISM project.  Well this is what Google Analytics is all about, people.  Why are you so mad?  If the government paid someone else to do it, thus pushing capitalism further, then would it be ok?  Oh, wait they did pay someone since he was a contractor.

Anywho, a few weeks ago I was googling wainscoting because I have big plans for our upstairs bathroom.  (I might have made a pretty big topic leap there but I'm going somewhere with this, hold on.)

I am envisioning (on my mental vision board) bright turquoise and gold fish orange and bright white wainscoting in the bathroom no one uses.  And some shade over that damn window above the bath that makes that room a sauna every summer.  This is not the reason that we no longer use this bathroom. Oh, no.  The Boy has decided that our bath tub is infinitely more fun.  Why?  I don't know.  He gets these ideas in his head and there is no shaking it.  Perhaps when the baby comes he'll change his oh so stubborn (yet familiar) mind.  God I hope its for the better. 

 Anyways, like I said I've got plans for that room.  They also involve doing something with this random closet in the bathroom.  I think we would be better served with a cabinet of some sort but not sure how to turn it into a closet.  I'm sure Juanito could MacGyver his way to see it done, but I need him on other projects.  Namely the storage under the stairs.  We had this great idea to open up the closet down stair, that people in my family would call the hall closet, into the space under the stairs to allow for more storage.  Living in Phoenix the attic is not an ideal storage area for things you don't want to melt. 

So a while ago Juanito employed my dad to come over and the punched through the wall into the long forgotten area.  But apparently our great idea was not a common vision.  Now we have a little hobbit door that one has to belly crawl through in order to get to the secret lair, I mean the storage area. Not exactly how I would have done it.  I know that Juanito has visions of prepping for the end of the world or the zombie apocalypse, but really I just want a place to store my wedding dress and family heirlooms and holiday decorations without fear that they will melt into one festive jumble, instead of stockpiling canned peaches and air-tight drums of rice. I need the stuff from the "put it in the spare room" room to be transferred somewhere else so that we can make it "the baby's room."

Point being, I think we have jumped past nesting and landed feet first in demolition and reconstruction phase of the pregnancy.  Also the latent food aversion has subsided to I want to eat everything.  And right now it must be fried and saddled with chocolate of the cold, frozen kind. 

So what does any of this have to do with PRISM?  Well, I was watching something enriching and educational on YouTube the other day (I think it was all of the songs from Pitch Perfect) and every video I clicked on had a five second commercial about wainscoting...coincidentally it was the company that I was reading about a few weeks ago.  This is marketing in the digital age.  This is Google taking what you search, selling this data to companies so that they can better target their advertising.  This isn't THE MAN watching your every move.  This isn't Big Brother coming for you Orson Welles and Ayn Rand.  This is capitalism at its finest. 

Now if only I could get some free wainscoting out of this post.....

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

My apologies to the blogoshpere

So...  lately I've had writer's block of some sort I guess.  I start off with something to say, but when I sit down to type the sentences don't come.  When I get paper and pen the words evade me and my thoughts wander to Facebook and yet another game of Solitaire.  It is obnoxious how much Solitaire I play.  Seriously.

I don't know why this is happening.  Its not like I lack for things going on in my life. I guess I'm just having a hard time with finding the words for it all.  And honestly do you want to hear a less than entertaining story about The Boy?  Again? 

Before when I would get all jumbled in all the thoughts I would stop and start writing it like I was telling a friend.  Unfortunately these days the thoughts are a jumble of pictures, random references that would take too long to explain why the hell my brain when that way and songs and movie lines.  So I apologize for the lack of witty post or insightful thoughts.  Perhaps its the uterine shunting and perhaps its my give a fuck that is on vacation.  Hard to tell.

Monday, June 10, 2013

And a statue will be erected in your honor....

I was thinking this weekend about a conversation I had with my mother in law when The Boy was just born.  I was recounting a story that involved Juanito helping with some aspect and she made a comment about how his father never helped with any of that.  “That” being taking care of his children.  I wanted to say well that should have been your first indicator that he was not a spectacular father but I held my tongue.  I do that every now and then, but rarely.  Sadly I was told this by many women in my family.  I have never really been sure what to make of it. Was I supposed to feel bad for them and how bad they had it with their lame husbands?  Was I supposed to feel thankful for having a husband who gave a shit about being a father?  Was I less of a mother because I’m not doing it all on my own? 
So this conversation and the questions it brings always bubble to the surface when I feel conflict with Juanito.  It’s a struggle to balance the house and careers and children and pets and car maintenance and home maintenance and laundry and cleaning and social lives and personal time oh and sleep.  I know that just like there are times that I feel like I carry more weight than Juanito there are times that he feels that too.  But I found myself having this internal dialogue while I was unloading and reloading the dishwasher for the third time in a weekend (a weekend that we ate out more often than ate in it mind you) and I thought, am I just supposed to accept this role and be thankful that he will change poopy Pull-ups (or worse poopy underwear)?  Am I asking too much that he do both?  And this is no reflection on Juanito and his side of load. (So don’t read into this Juanito.)  I’m asking more for all the working moms.  Is it too much of us to ask that the workload of maintaining house, home and family be evenly split?  Are we spoiled when our husbands share the workload?  Am I less of a mother and wife because he does? 
Then seriously this is the thought that comes into my head.  What about gay and lesbian couples?  They must have to struggle with sharing workload but do they grapple with the traditional roles?  How can I assume that mowing the yard is “his thing” when lesbian couples I know fight over who has to do yard work.  And then what about those couples that have children?  Do they have to talk it out and say “this is what I want to do and you can do this?”  Do they reexamine their plan to make sure everything is covered before implementing?  Because we do. 
When we started this relationship so long ago I know that everything was split.  Rent, closet space, cleaning, everything.  I know that if it hadn’t been this way I would have bailed on the relationship a long time ago.  We both went into it with this even-stevens mentality.  So why should I be grateful for a husband who would get up in the middle of the night with a newborn because my MIL didn’t have that?  I shouldn’t feel guilty that I can chat with friends or family while Juanito corrals The Boy.  And he sure as hell doesn’t deserve a parade for washing poopy underwear. 
Sometimes this adult thing sucks and the figuring it out part is exhausting. 

**Side note:  not sure how I’ve made the gay and lesbian population my litmus test for all things, but I find myself doing more and more these days.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Rule Follower

Driving home the other night from work I called Norma Rae.  Between the time difference and our kids this is typically the best time to talk.  Or a little at noon on Sundays because this is the beginning of our nap time and the end of hers.  But our calls happen so infrequently that when they do it never seems to be long enough to talk about everything, like we need to. The planets aligned and we were able to chat.  And we did for the rest of my 45 minute commute home.  Its a good time to catch up and it makes my drive so much better. 

During this phone call I needed to stop at the library and pick up a book that was on hold.  As I parked I told Norma Rae that I needed to run into the library but it was going to be real quick no need to hang up just that she needed to keep talking.  This is no problem for Norma Rae.  She is a story teller as well and can easily monopolize a conversation.  So has she launched into a story about a piano purchase I walked into the library.

In order to pick up books on hold at my local library, I walk in and make an immediate left walk probably 5 yards to where my request is on the hold shelf.  I walk back to the entrance, go up to computer kiosk, which is unmanned mind you, scan my card and my books, press the button to have the receipt emailed to me and walk out.  Its literally a 20 second transaction and I never once interact with a person.  I've done it many times in the past. *Gasp* I have been on the phone at the same time too! 

This time though the gentleman who is, and I use this term loosely, security asked me to finish my call before coming into the library.  I totally get it because there are rules and people don't follow but I hadn't said a word other than hello to him.  I would not have been saying a word during my 20 seconds while there.  I would have been less intrusive than the guy that is taking shelter from the heat in the library and apparently has something against personal hygiene, deodorant and is supportive of our natural pheromones.  Or the people who sound like they are one step from an iron lung coughing and hacking and making me imagine bathing in hand sanitizer. 

I was so incensed by this request.  the gall of this "security guard" to tell me to get off my call and if I a bluetooth he wouldn't have batted an eye but these calls happen so infrequently that how dare he make me follow the library rules.  believe I understand that I sound like an over privileged child have a major first world problem temper tantrum.  But I thought you know if I had been talking I would understand but I wasn't.  I was totally following the rules with a phone against my ear that is all. 

but because I am a rule follower, I stepped outside and, in a haughty tone, told Norma Rae that I would call her back in literally a minute because this guy won't let me walk in the library with a phone against my ear.  Believe you me, I glared at him when I left.  I'm sure he felt the rath of my anger in those blistering seconds. 

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Where have I been and what have I been doing?

So I haven't posted in a while and I have no good excuse.  I mean I've started posts but haven't finished them. So let's try and finish those up and give you an idea of where I've been and what I've been doing. 

Memorial Weekend....

Memorial Weekend is a time to remember those who have bravely served our country and community.  Be it military, army reserves, police, or fire; this weekend is about honoring any person who puts on a uniform and puts their life on the line for others.

What did I do?  Well I Nair'd my cooter's sideburns in preparation of being in a swimsuit in front of people.  I also went to Schnepf's Farms, which was on the edge of the Earth, and picked peaches.  Twenty pounds of peaches later we came home.  Armed with ginormous clam shells of strawberries and blueberries from Costco we proceeded to gorged ourselves on fruit all weekend long.  On Saturday we went to Schmacey's for swimming and a BBQ.  I debuted my new maternity swim suit which I've never had before and thoroughly enjoyed our friends, even if they don't believe that we landed on the moon.  Then on Memorial Day itself we went out to my parent's house for an outstandingly awkward afternoon with my family and all of their idiosyncrasies. Nothing salutes our armed services like fruit and dysfunction!

The Pregnancy

Have I mentioned that this pregnancy is nothing like The Boy?  I might have mentioned it a time or ten.  Because it isn't.  I don't think that I have glowed once.  Well my aunt said I was but I think she was lying to make me feel better. I have pretty much a constant headache that ranges in a variety of intensities.  Sometimes I can't open my eyes and other times the throbbing only happens when I bend over.  I have consulted my doctor about this and first I need to make sure that its not my eyes and/or contacts before they worry.  Apparently the actual eyeball can change shapes and my contacts might be causing problems. We shall see but in the mean time Tylenol has become my new favorite friend.

Oh, and the crying....  the uncontrollable tears!  We were driving back from the edge of the Earth (Schnepft's Farm) and I fell apart crying because my grandpa died.  Nine years ago people. The man died nine years ago and I'm bawling because The Boy won't ride his tractor like I did.   I mean seriously get it together Sara! 


A very good friend lost his father a few weeks ago to cancer.  I had so many mixed emotions about it.  It seemed that our friends, Yennifer and her husband (it was his dad who passed), had been living their lives in limbo with the ups and downs of battling cancer.  I know that as the child you want the limbo rather than loose one of your parents.  But I know that there has to be some level of relief that there is no more fighting and that he is at peace.  But good Lord I am not prepared for us to start losing our parents.  I mean grandparents is sad to deal with but our parents?  We are not old enough to deal with that type of loss.  But, yet, here we are.  Oh and like I mentioned above, this did not bode well with the uncontrollable crying either.  I'm at the memorial service trying hard not to do one of those gasping inhales while bawling things when my friend was talking about his dad.  I was just a mess and it turned into a headache that lasted for two days. 

So that's where I've been and a little bit of what I've been doing.  Its all very exciting.  The temperatures have crept up here in the Valley an summer has officially started while other areas are barely seeing spring.  I envy your time in the sun "warming up" while we claim shady parking spots and avoid the outdoors for large chunk of time.