Favorite conversations.

One of my goals for the new year was to be a happier person in general which has for some reason led me to be more reflective about life. I was reading Mindy's blog (hey family have you met Mindy? Mindy, family. Family, Mindy.) and she posted about working with a group comprised mostly of women. I got to thinking about the joy of dealing with women, and one thought led to another until I was remember the conversations I used to have with Jeff's friends that we used to hang out with on the weekends.

And I started to giggle.

A bit of background to this tale. Jeff and I hung out with a group of 4-5 guys and since he was the only one with a steady girlfriend, I was allowed to tag along. But because I was the only female in the group I sometimes had some unexpected roles to fulfill.

Like being a "wingma'am." I admit to assisting a few of the guys in getting phone numbers by pointing out their good qualities when needed to get a phone number, but I drew the line at facilitating bringing a girl home from the bars.

And I was called upon often to be the expert on all things 'woman.' However the conversation almost always went like this. . .

Boy: Katie, why did she do that?

Me: Because girls are just flat out crazy.

Boy: No really, why did she do that?

Me: Really? Because girls are crazy! Seriously you don't believe me? Let me explain it to you. That girl that called you to say that she was going to be out downtown with her friends? She wasn't really inviting you to meet up with them. I know you think she told you she was going out for that reason, but she wasn't. What she's doing is laying the groundwork to either
a - brush you off if she runs into you because she's 'with the girls'
b - setting you up to be her last chance hook up for the night.
That's really about it. Because if she really wanted to run into you, she would have told you what bar they were heading to and when they were planning to be there.

Boy: But that doesn't make sense. If she didn't want to see me why would she call?

Me: Didn't I just tell you? She may want to call you after, but don't expect anything. She's just a thrill seeker and she won't call you after this weekend. Couldn't you tell by the fact that she was wearing a miniskirt and ugg-ly boots out while its snowing?

Boy: I still don't understand.

Me: When are you going to learn that you aren't supposed to?

And I'm smiling to myself just thinking about all the lessons that I taught that started with the phrase "because girls are crazy." And I include myself in that rank. But I just want to say that while I explain to guys that girls are crazy, there is a fantastic path of thought that leads to most of the seemingly crazy logic that women have. I am fascinated by it, but I have given up trying to explain it to ANY man, because they don't appear to have the capacity to decipher most if it.

Pending confirmation

The phrase above is pretty much the two words that describes my life at this moment. Two of the most important people in my life are pending confirmation for life changing announcements that will change the way that I function indefinitely. I'm very excited and nervous for both of these announcements to happen because whatever they are . . .I feel stuck at the moment.

Hence the lack of posts for 13 days (gasp!)

I promised myself I wouldn't look to see if I've ever went that long without blogging. But I'm still here and maybe I'll get around to posting about the other things that have been changing in my life like:

Our new cat
Alaina's swimming lessons
Kayla (everything is new!)
Good things at work

But the only thing I want to say at this point is to brag with pride that I've finally broken the habit of stopping at McD's for breakfast for coffee that I don't like.
Why would you get coffee that you don't like?
I'm glad you asked. It's because I crave unsweetened liquid creamer and they recently started only stocking sweetened creamer at work.

I broke the habit by bringing in a little lunch sack with a container of half and half in it everyday to work. And my boss has happily been invited to use it because she feels the same way about sweetened creamer.

How silly is that?

The writing on the wall.

I've been a little depressed about having to hand back my wonderful secret service hearing aides on Tuesday. I felt like yelling out "Damn it Chloe!" in my best Jack Bauer voice about 20 times a day, but then everyone would have looked at me like I was crazier than usual.

Okay, so that's no excuse for not blogging, but its all I've got!

Last night Alaina went into the hallway just before bath time and was quietly playing by herself. I just assumed that she was taunting one of the cats, when I heard Jeff say, "OH ALAINA!" in his best 'I'm disappointed in you' voice.

I hustled over to see what the problem was and I just about hyperventilated as I tried to contain my laughter. Alaina was sitting in the middle of the hallway with markers all over the floor and had been drawing on the wall.

ON THE WALL! Jeff was just hitting his stride of "I spent a lot of time painting these walls and making sure they looked nice" and "I'm going to have to paint . ." when I walked over with a wet wash cloth and wiped the wall clean.

Then I turned to Alaina, who was putting on her best "I'm going to cry because I got caught" performance, and cut her Oscar-worthy tears short with a simple, "Alaina, we don't color on walls, that's what your beautiful coloring books are for. Go into the bathroom and we'll start your bath" Then I ran upstairs to laugh until I cried because my daughter did something as cliche as draw on the walls.

Of course, I had to get a few laughs at my husband's clueless-ness about the wonders of washable markers. I tried to take a picture of the marks, but Alaina hadn't gotten far enough for them to show up on a picture. Darn.

Say What?

I went to the hearing specialist Monday and had my hearing tested. It turns out that I have a significant hearing deficiency in the middle frequencies. The specialist explained that this type of hearing loss isn't because of damage, but is usually hereditary and present from birth. So my questions is . . .

How long have I been yelling at people when I talk????

Seriously, I'm all of 28 years old, need a hearing aide, and the specialists said I've probably had this since birth, but that it must have recently gotten worse, hence the visit how instead of before. Tuesday (yesterday) they provided me with some trial case hearing aides and I can't believe the difference! Its not like I couldn't hear at all, but what I can hear with them is soooo much better!

I'm saddened by the thought that I should have sucked it up and went to a specialist earlier that this, because my boss and my husband both notice a difference in the volume of my regular speaking voice.

Now the FUN part of hearing aides . . .

Any one want to guess how much they cost? I told Jeff they were 'Hella Expensive' and he guessed $500. I told him he wasn't taking the 'Hella' into account. These bad boys are $3000 a piece. And insurance only covers 10%. If I sign up for my own hearing insurance through my office, they will pay $500 each for the 1st year, $750 the second year, or $1000 each if I stay on the insurance for three years.

So I have a 3 year plan to improve my hearing . . .but until then, you'll just have to deal with me speaking a little louder and asking you to repeat yourself every now and again. But at least I know there is an end in sight.

In the meantime, I may cry a little when I turn these bad boys in. I feel like a secret service agent.

p.s. for all the tech lovers out there, I can buy a wireless remote for these and connect them to my cell phone or MP3 player and route the sound directly into them . . .no earbuds or blue tooth required!

p.s.s Welcome to the blogging community Mimi!!!

'Laina's first Life Lessons

Jeff likes to spring things on me while I'm trying to feed Kayla, Alaina, myself and him all our own meals as soon as I get home.

I understand that he's excited about something from work and anxious to share his joys/fears/pains etc with me, but I don't have much pity for him when he's frustrated that I don't stand still and listen to him.

But yesterday he was being the most adorable proud Daddy.

I'm not sure what started it, but he started with the typical, "I have something to show you" phrase that leads to him pulling out a stack of papers to look over while I'm trying to prep baby food, start our dinner, juggle a fussy baby, and convince Alaina that she is hungry now instead of 5 minutes before bedtime. Usually its something about positions that have opened up at his job, something about money, or something about anything else he's interested in.

But yesterday it was flyers for lessons at the YMCA. Jeff has decided that it's time to get Alaina started on something physical and worthwhile. I was all but drooling over the tumbling classes while I think that Jeff was imagining Alaina being adorable at her first dance performance. Either way we were pretty excited about the concept of chanelling her energy.

But instead of signing her up for dance or gymnastics, we called and signed her up for swimming lessons. There is some logic involved. I don't know how she will react to being in the water, but I do know that just because she asks her daddy to let her lay on her tummy in the tub and pretend to swim doesn't equal the required comfort level to be alone in the pool without a parent. The only parent/child classes are for children under the age of 3, so with her birthday being in May, I called last night and signed her up and since Jeff refuses to have her grabbing his chest hair while she floats in the water, I've been delegated to be the parent in that combo.

And then the reality of what I had done just hit me.

Did I just sign myself up to wear a bathing suit with witnesses around me for six weeks?????

Crap.

Thanks FedEx guys!

I decided on a whim to come in the front door the other day because I left the garage remote in the truck and was too lazy to use the key to unlock it to get the remote. I'm spoiled by my van's automatic locks.

And sitting on the porch was this box . . .



I was a little giddy at the thought of flowers for me . . but I knew that Jeff wouldn't have gotten me any flowers, because I asked him not to since I'd rather have gifts that don't die in a week.

Upon closer inspection, the name on the box wasn't mine. I called the flower company, they accidentally hung up on me TWICE during my good Samaritan phone call. I called the number listed under the ship too address and left a message for the woman who was supposed to receive them. Called the flower company again and informed them of their error. They told me the would resend more flowers to the rightful owner, but meanwhile I could enjoy the ones that came to me.
Alaina and I immediately opened the box and found . . .

Yay for the bear . . .because the roses were frozen. Apparently the box had been sitting on my porch for 2 nights. Oops. I guess I'll have to check my porch everyday now to see if I get more flowers.

The next day the rightful owner called and asked if she could pick them up. The flower company said they had sent them three times and she still hadn't gotten any flowers. I told her that I would love to give her her flowers, except that they were dead. I told her I called the company and they were sending more. Plus I didn't want to take the bear from my daughter who already loved it to bits.

And before you think that I lied . . .check out the rose on the right that is falling off the stem already. Darn me for not getting to them before they were frozen.

So big question of the day:

Do I call the flower company to complain about the fact that the delivery person left a box of fresh flowers on my porch in the middle of winter, when they were guaranteed to be frozen? Or do I keep my mouth shut because I didn't order them anyway? They have a policy that they leave flowers in a 'safe place if no one is there to receive them.' Is out in the freezing cold a safe place for flowers? Its kind of like leaving a steak in your pet's food dish for safe keeping isn't it?

Forget the Weatherman, asked the Weathered Man

So apparently last week there was a magnificent Sun Dog around the sun at sunset.

But since I live in the middle of the city . . .I didn't get to see it. Rats.

Last night my dad told me that seeing a sun dog means that there will be an abrupt change in the weather. A.K.A. our little 'heat wave' we are experiencing today of 30+ degrees.

I've decided that I'm not going to listed to the weather man anymore . . .I'm just going to buy myself a Farmer's Almanac. Did you know the old saying that 90 days after a fog there will be bad weather? I didn't, but My dad made the announcement in church one foggy Sunday that they would have no church on Christmas because it was foggy out. I really wish he wouldn't have been right about the weather on that particular item.

I'll trust a farmer who can lose his money over not watching the weather over the meteorologist that makes money to take guesses any day of the week.

And a thought for the day . . .
When you park beside a vehicle that is really, really close to the line in the parking stall beside you . . .do you adjust your vehicle around their position? Or do you park as straight as you can ni your stall and take a quick inventory of any dings on your car and memorize their make and model for the possible police report that could follow?