Widow Week

Alternate titles: "My Husband's Ridiculously Overzealous Work Ethic," "How to Eat Your Weight in Chocolate," "The Best Hiding Places for Mommies Who Don't Want To Be Found."


I love my husband. He is a great man, a fabulous father, looks amazing in slacks and is hopelessly in love with me. He's perfect! But...yes, there's a 'but'...he has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility as it applies to his profession. I won't go into details because then I will start to rant and rage and possibly swear but let's just say that there have been quite a few changes at the offices lately. As a result of those changes, my husband hasn't been home much. All last week, he was sneaking home some time around midnight and then leaving again when the sun came up. And this week, he's not even here to keep my feet warm at night.

I am used to the business trips. Sometimes, they are even fun. I get to eat what I want, when I want. I wear yoga pants all day or not bother to fix my hair beyond a ponytail. I get to hold the remote control. I don't have to keep on the dishes. It's kinda nice. But it gets a little boring, especially once the kids are asleep and I've eaten all the Haagen Daas. I prepare as best I can for these moments.

When the Man goes off on business trips, I reorganize the Netflix queue. All the chick flicks get top priority. I make a special trip to the grocery store to get little treats and the fixins for dinners I want. I try not to go overboard...don't want to spend the whole time on a sugar high only to crash the minute he gets home.

This is what I've done to hang on this time:

• Currently, my favorite treats are Sweet's Orange Sticks (the dark chocolate ones). They were on sale but I limited myself to just one box.
• We have watched Barbie the Island Princess and Hairspray virtually non-stop (I'm hoping this doesn't permanently scar the Boy).
• Last night, I took the kids out for dinner at Arctic Circle. Their food might not be that great but they have the best play place for my kids. They declared me the best Mommy ever!
  
• I intentionally scheduled a Girls' Lunch Out because I knew I would need the adult interaction (even though I had to pay a babysitter, it was soooooo worth it).
• This afternoon, we're going to get new fish (we're down to three but one of those doesn't count because it's just an algae eater and hides whenever you try to watch it).
• Tomorrow, I am baking their favorite cake. And we will eat it while it's still warm, served with vanilla ice cream, possibly before dinner.
  

Also, I like to make sure the Man misses me, too. So when I pack for his trips, I make sure to slip in a special little reminder of me...like a red lacy bra.

I am surviving his absence. But my feet are cold.

What do you do to entertain yourself when your husband is away?

Some things are worth it...

Quote from my Chocolate Calendar today:

"An average candy bar contains around 250 calories.
You can burn that much by just taking the stairs.
To the 14th floor.
Twice."

Idioms for Idiots

In keeping with my last post, I shall attempt to teach you a "life lesson." Everyone comfy? Here we go.

There's a famous idiom that says "It's like riding a bike; you never forget how."
Au contraire, mon frère...(except that I don't think there are boys who actually read my blog so that should really be Au contraire, ma soeur...but I digress...)

In this instance, I prefer the snarky remark "It's as easy as falling off a bike." The experience was a lot like this clip here: Sounds like a fun idea until things start going terribly wrong and before you know it, you are desperately trying to escape evil clones. Well, except for the clones part. No clones, evil or otherwise. But still...

Last week, we had a couple of rather lovely days. I was hyper moody and the kids were just hyper so I kicked them out of the house. Well, not really. I went with them. We took their bikes up to the path that loops around our neighborhood. During the end of the summer, the kids loved riding bikes. Da Boo was fairly decent on her two-wheeler with trainers and the Boy was just getting the concept of pedaling on his trike.

We hit the first snag when da Boo's bike helmet wouldn't go on her head. Hrmmm...you mean, heads can grow that much in one season? Oh well, we'll just squeeze it on a little harder...oops! Now she's crying. Dang it! Threaten her. Threats always work. Tell her that if she can't stop crying then we are going back in the house this minute. There...that worked. Now, let's get on the bikes.

Great. The Boy just walked right through all that deer poop. Oh well. The pedals should scrap it off his shoes, right?

Okay, on the bikes! Now, pedal! I said, Pedal! Wait...why is no one moving? Are you...are you crying again? Why? You don't remember how to pedal? Are you joking? Seriously, are you faking it? No? Oh. Ummm....well, put your feet on the pedals. No need to get snappy, young lady. You said you forgot how to pedal and I'm just trying to help. Now push forward and down. Are your pushing? Push harder. Harder. Are you even trying?

At this point I must remember that the vinyl fence that runs along this path throws all noises back towards the houses and my neighbors can probably hear every word. Deep breaths while I try to not raise my voice. The Boy decides it's easier to push his trike with his feet ala Fred Flintstone and he's off toward the park. Maybe it's time for another threat...

More tears ensue as does more deep breathing. Finally, through clenched teeth, I tell her to turn her bike around. She melts into full-on sobs before I can explain that by turning around she will be going downhill, which is actually easier. Amidst her pitiful wails, she does as instructed and slowly starts to move, gathering speed. Gathering more speed...doing a little too much gathering, at which point she starts to freak out and I have to grab the back of her bike to slow her down before she attempts leaping from it to escape her impending doom. Okay, let's try that again...

By the end of the second trip down the slight downgrade, she magically remembers how to pedal and resumes doing such. We continue our trip to the park. The Boy is already halfway there at his slow rate. After a little while playing, the wind has picked up and we decide to head home to have a snack. Most of the way home was at a slight downhill angle and therefore, there were no tears from any of us. By the time we are in sight of the house, I have selected which chocolate-covered item I will immediately consume to congratulate myself on not losing it over the non-pedaling debacle. It's only when I am slowing da Boo's bike as she heads down a bump that I observe the Boy. He is pedaling! At least someone was listening to my instructions!


I think next time we'll practice slowing the bikes by backpedaling. But I'm gonna need more chocolate.

FHE: Prayer for Beginners

It was da Boo's turn to do the lesson tonight. She usually tries to come up with something after Primary at church on Sunday. But this week, she was more rowdy than usual and didn't actually pay attention (if her teacher is reading this...I am really sorry! I had her practice being reverent after church!). So that's why five minutes before we usually have FHE, she and I were flipping through my old Sunbeams' lessons, trying to find something easy enough that she could get the message across with minimal assistance. The Boy is almost to the point that he can say prayers on his own but forgets what to say next and get distracted. We chose a lesson on how to say a prayer.

Opening Song: I Am A Child Of God (shocking, I know! And the Boy didn't even cry when we didn't sing his song.)

Opening Prayer: The Boy. He volunteered.

Lesson: Da Boo had four papers with pictures on them that helped illustrate the four parts of a prayer...Opening, Thanks, Ask, and Closing.

Opening - a big red heart and a person that looks like it could be Heavenly Father. "Dear Heavenly Father..."
Thanks - a Thanksgiving turkey and small pictures of things we have been blessed with, like food, family, parents, house, etc.
Ask - two hands outstretched, with small pictures of things we might ask for in our prayers, like sicknesses, blessing on food, missionaries, etc.
Closing - A picture of Jesus Christ, so we remember to pray in His name.

Da Boo did a good job. The Boy listened fairly well until towards the end and then we lost him completely. He was having so much more fun flipping himself over the arm of the couch instead of telling us what was in the picture (although he did learn turkey...).

Closing Song: Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam.

Closing Prayer: We had the Boy say it again, using the pictures are prompts. He remembered to give thanks for turkeys.

Treats: Deluxe Fudge Grahams. I bought them on impulse at the grocery store over the weekend. Must have been needing some sort of comfort food. These cookies remind me of my childhood. We had them when we went camping a lot. I miss camping.

Now, tell me, what did you do for FHE this week?

Perfect Logic

Currently, the Boy does not have self-esteem issues. At nearly three years old, he regularly announces things that love him. And these aren't obvious, such as his dear Aunts. Oh no. Everything loves him. Our neighbors. Strangers in other cars on the road. The fish. Peanut butter sandwiches. His socks...and the list goes on.

The other day I was getting him ready for bed. That night, I let him wear his new jammies that have a monkey on the front. He adores anything with a monkey on it so he was very excited.

Boy: Monkey loves me.
Me: That's because you are a monkey.
Boy: I not monkey. I Boy.
Me: Yes, you are a monkey! What does a monkey eat?
Boy: 'Nanas.
Me: And do you eat bananas?
Boy: Yes.
Me: What sound does a monkey make?
Boy: Ooo ooo ahh ahh.
Me: See? You sound like a monkey!

The look on his face went from stark disbelief to bewildered to calm acceptance.

He spent the rest of the night trying to climb all over his crib.