I remember watching the movie “The Breakup” with Jennifer Anniston and Vince Vaugh. I thought it was silly that they broke up over such minor issues, although compiled they became bigger. I especially liked the scene when Jennifer says, “I want you to want to do the dishes.” I now understand this as a much larger issue.

In my home I amm the matriarch and I run the house. That also means I cook, clean, organize and apparently I have to remind my husband and stepson constantly. They cannot seem to remember to clean up after themselves, do dishes, do laundry, fold clothes, put them away, pick of inanimate objects off the floor. I have to tell them to. My husband will do what I say but what they don’t get is how EXHAUSTING it is. Especailly as a teacher when I ahve to tell students what to do every day all day, I do not feel like continuing this process at home. “Please empty the dishwasher” Why do I ahve to say that. Why can’t they see the dishwasher is full, it needs to be emptied. “Please put away your laundry” They are switting on the couch too. Do they not see their laundry? Why do I have to say this?

I mentions this because it is so frutrating yet typical. I want my husband to treat me like a rommate. When you have a roomate you keep your shit to yourelf. You would never want to leave your laundry around. You would RESPECT your roommate. Why can’t I be my husand’s rommate?

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Even though I am only 37, I am constantly amazed at the speedy evolvement of technology. Texting is something I am fond of although I still do not think it should be substituted for birthday wishes, invites etc. And as quick as I am to criticize, I often find myself in a hypocritical situation. I am concerend that many families lack interaction with one another and substitute texting as conversation.

However lately I have been so tired at the end of the day that I text both my husband and stepson when they are upstairs or downstairs, however opposite from me. I just don’t have the energy to walk up or down the stairs.

I have texted things like, “Can you get me a glass of wine?” “Did you walk or will you walk the dog?” “Can you turn the air up or donw?” Do I have to cook dinner?”

Has anyone else entered into this lazy abyss of texting?

Why is it that when it’s hot, tempers flare? Shouldn’t we be too hot to argue? Too hot to care? I feel a poem coming on.

This past weekend our air conditioning stopped cooling our house. Mind you we replaced out a/c only two and a half years ago. Just 4 months ago we have to shell out $500.00 dollars on some coil that was not covered under warranty. So when coughing up dollars and heat are combined, one may become testy.

That “one” is my husband. Our a/c stopped cooling Sunday. Where was he? Golfing. Sun. night was a warm night of not much sleeping, so Memorial day morning I woke up and called the a/c company. When I called a new HVAC service said to leave a message. I told my husband that the number was not reaching the a/c company. He responded with, “Is it the right number?” and then scrolled on line to cross check my work since I am obviously stupid and can’t read. He then asked where the “file” was for the a/c. Good thing I had made one since he never files anything, yet his expectation is that I have filed and alphabetized uponMemorial his command.

I then received a return phone call from the HVAC company. So with my husband’s body heat forming a suffocating blanket as he stood over me I asked the young lady on the phone, “What happend to Crums Air?” She replied that they filed bancruptcy and closed. I began to ask her questions however my husband thought it would be a good time to add his two cents and ask questions over my conversation, yet he did not feel the need to take the phone from me but felt the need to have me relay his questions while walking back and forth in the kitchen. The lady on the other end asked if I just wanted to call back. I tried to relay that information but my husband asked how much it would be to come out.

“65.00 for a service call which would be put towards any repair needed.”

“fine just do it” replied my husband.

I hung up the phone and was given a service window of between 9 am and 11 am.

My husband then asked, ” So did that HVAC company buy Crums’ Air Conditioning phone numbers after they went out of business?”

Seriously? Yea, like I really asked that question while quizzing her on the autonomy of her HVAC company and the A/R list from Crums’ bancrupy.

Does anyone else have a “hot head” for a husband when it’s hot?

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I have been suffering with congestion, phlegm and pressure in my head for the past month. I had initially gone to a Centra Care and spent $50.00 for them to tell me I have sinusitis and put me on an antibiotic Mucinex DM. Well them “DM” made me feel crazy and I was still sick a week later. I then proceeded to my regular doctor who said she wanted to do a blood test to see if I have allergies or bacteria. Both came back negative so I just resigned myself to the fact that I was just going through something. Then this past week I became so congested in my head I could barley hear. In the mean time my son had gotten sick and we had to take him to the doctors. By Sunday I had a fever of 103. My husband was fishing and I needed help with my son. I could barely carry his 31 lb behind! My mother in law was in Daytona but she sent my father in law over. I knew the best person to help me was my step son but he was with his mother for the weekend. They only live a few miles away so I went ahead and called them.They came over and my stepson took care of my son, My husband’s baby momma cleaned dishes and folded laundry and my father in law swept the garage. I felt so vulnerable! It was surreal. Additionally my cynical, twisted mind thought this was a horrible look had it been 1940. But when you have a fever you’re are more than appreciative of the help. I went back upstairs and slept.

I barely felt better before my husband turned around the next day with a fever. Now a man with a fever is a totally different story! “Bwaa whoso wsoo booo fooheoo” I am sure you cant understand that because that is what a man sounds like! Anyone else have a horrible, sick husband?

Gabe Easter

Lonely egg

I recently realized that Easter is quite a competitive event. Since my son is now 1 yr. old and walking everywhere, I figured an Easter egg hunt would be a fantastic adventure for him. I found a local egg hunt near our home but was somewhat disappointed by the initial set up. Thousands of pastel eggs strewed across and open lawn left me slightly befuddled. I had envisioned my son, dressed in his Easter best, poking his curious head into bushes and around trees whilst gleefully picking up loads of eggs.

However, all that daydreaming was brought to a screeching halt when the announcer came on to, “Remind parents that Easter is about the kids. Parents DO NOT PICK UP ANY EGGS. If you lose your parent come to the stage. If you lose your child, come to the stage. Are we all set? Ok go.”

And with that, children careened across the lawn, snatching eggs quickly and with such vigor that I was amazed. I was able to take two steps with my son and pointed out a rouge egg which he happily picked up and handed to me with a giggle. I plopped down beside him and we opened it together to reveal a sticker. He smiled again and we were both very happy. A little girl came by and gave us two more eggs when she realized his basket was sparse.

Then the announcements of lost children and lost parents began. We strolled through the park and my son ran and laughed. Even though my whimsical vision of Easter was shattered, I still loved every moment with my son.

As we were leaving I heard a couple fighting in front of their children. The husband called his wife a “fun sucker.” I am totally taking that one!

As a teacher of teen girls, I am constantly reminded of their ignorance when it comes to mortality. “Youth is fleeting” does not appear on their radar as they whimiscally drift through life, hopping from car to car, party to party, text message to text message. At 37 I am reminded of mortality daily. Whether it’s the concern for my sons or the gray hairs I have begun tweezing, I know age and death are definitive.

I am aslo reminded of this fact because my mother was recently diagnosed with dementia. I have known for years that something seemed not quite right……But ignorance is bliss and when my while family decided to swim in the pool of ignoration, I suppose I did to. However now we are very aware that things have changed, she has changed and we are introduced to a new person. One who is forgetful, sometimes confused, frustrated, short tempered and insecure. Gone is the confident, independent woman who was my mom.

I have begun to mourn my mom. I have to. I cannot wake up one day and become sad about it. I have to embrace this illness and do my best to guide and educate myself on what the next step will be. I want to know if I will get it. I want to know if I can prevent it. I want to desperately take back all of the damage I have done to my body. I want to walk into my mother’shouse and find her cooking, sipping wine while juggling phone calls and making her home look like something Martha Stewart could only hope for.

I don’t want to go home to a half empty fridge, wishing she had remembered how to open my email which asked her to buy my son cheerios and milk.

About two years ago I was riding with my husband and noticed a woman pushing a baby in her stroller and commented that, “It seems like all moms wear spandex. I would never do that. They look a mess. That is NOT attractive.”

Fast forward two years later plus baby and guess who LOVES spandex. I am often reminded and ridiculed by my husband for this. I always swore I would try and be ass attractive as possible upon his arrival home. Not so much.

I just love spandex because it hugs you and says, “It’s ok. You are not fat. I got you.”

Needless to say I am trying to get out of the spandex however our relationship is rather strong.