humor, motherhood

Fast Asleep

IMG_8767At a certain point in the day, I am over watching tv.  Especially on days I’ve clocked in a four-hour-plus baseball game. Sometimes I’m over reading, too.  When these moments happen, I just want to call it a day.  Even if I’m not truly tired I’d prefer to have dark and quiet.  Mad Dog isn’t always in agreement, but part of marriage is compromise.

“Are you planning on reading?” said Mad Dog as he finished up brushing his teeth.

“Nope. But I did think we could talk about our feelings,” I said.

“Great!  That will help me fall right to sleep!”

I do what I can, Mad Dog.  I do what I can.

 

marriage, motherhood

Safety First

For some reason, Mad Dog is always in a hurry.  I’m not sure why exactly.  Is someone chasing him?  Is he carrying top secret information and must never be caught?

Date night strolls often wind up with him ten paces ahead and me jogging to keep up.  Yeah, it’s as romantic as it sounds.

Even when we are home, his pace is quick.  It is best to steer clear as his rushes through his to-do list.  In all of this heightened speed, he relies on repetition and memory to navigate the space around him.  If something is an inch or two ‘off’, he inevitably runs into it.  And not in a delicate way, but in a full-on injury-inducing way.

Does this slow him down?

Never!

Does it make him scan his surroundings before attacking his day?

Of course not!

He does enjoy deflecting the cause of his injuries.  He jokingly (and sometimes not-so-jokingly) blames me.  He wants to know why I keep moving things(!).  He ‘moves with precision’ (exact quote thank you very much) and if I move something even a tiny bit, he is bound to run into it.

Okay, okay, I’ll give you the drying rack over the laundry room door (I mean, it’s kind of awesome that he even goes in there let alone actually does laundry, so kudos for that).  It is possible someone in our house inadvertently shifted it and therefore when Mad Dog nearly punctured a lung on it, I could understand I might be to blame.  And, then there was my yoga mat.  I had moved it to the side in our bedroom, but knowing Mad Dog in the way I do, I should have moved it about three more miles out of the way to ensure his safety.

But furniture?

Really?

He claims I move furniture.  Not ottoman type things, but anchor pieces like couches, beds, and cabinets.  Yes, cabinets!  I absolutely take down cabinets and move them one inch over just to mess with him.  Honestly, I should have my own show on HGTV.

And I’m certain my three times a week of Jazzercise, I mean I use 8 lbs. weights after all, in addition to my at-home yoga practice, certainly has afforded me the necessary upper body strength to move giant pieces of furniture all by myself.  Maybe bodybuilding has been my long lost calling?

So many dreams to consider.

These will have to wait until I finish moving Mad Dog’s office desk.

Trust me, I always remember to lift with my knees and not my back.

Safety first.

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humor, motherhood

The Lady of the House

I have always loved Mad Dog’s athleticism.  When we were dating, I would take great pride watching him from the sidelines as he crashed his way to the end zone for his touch football team.

Lately, he has been playing more and more basketball with the boys in our backyard.  These games consist of trash talk, spin moves and flagrant(!) fouling.

Yesterday’s game was no exception.  It was 1 v 1, Mad Dog against T.Puzzle.  I sat on our back porch and watched the glory unfold.  Full Speed was next to me spouting off the official referee calls as Mad Dog muscled his way towards victory.   One shot shy of the win, he dropped back deep on the pavement and launched a beauty.  It banked off the backboard slamming home the win.

Something about the whole thing reminded me of those good ol’ days of dating.  I’m not gonna lie, my stomach did some flips.

Mad Dog’s still got game.

At dinner in our post-game analysis, Mad Dog recounted that winning shot.

“I did it for my woman,” he said.

Both T.Puzzle and Full Speed asked, “Yeah, but was she watching?”

As in was Miss Lady watching?  As in, Miss Lady is clearly THE lady Mad Dog was showing off for and I was just a random spectator.

No doubt I can’t compete ….

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Miss Lady sprawls herself across Mad Dog’s lap in devoted adoration.
motherhood

When Left to Their Own Devices (Part Two)

Over break Mad Dog had a big stretch of time home.

It was awesome.

I took advantage of this by scheduling some doctor’s appointments and procedures that normally get pushed from our priority list.  After one such minor procedure (no, it wasn’t Botox, I’m not a Real Housewife of Dallas yet), I was required to rest for the weekend.

That’s when it happened.

I was laying in bed when I heard the doorbell.  I could deduce it was Amazon, which let’s face it, is about 90% of our deliveries so the odds were in my favor.  It all seemed normal until the delivery kept on going and going and going….

When I heard Mad Dog shout for Full Speed to come help, I was even more confused.

Mad Dog was clearly worried about me and ordered ten bottles of fancy water to aid in my recovery.  Instead of ten bottles, he mistakenly ordered TEN CASES!

Thirsty much?

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humor, motherhood

When Left to Their Own Devices…

T.Puzzle needed me to sign a paper in his folder.  I use the word ‘folder’ loosely here.  While my occupations as a stay-at-home-mom and writer/dreamer/blogger have their busy work, I often have very little need for folders.  Therefore, when I saw T.Puzzle’s ‘folder’, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was seeing:

Apparently he ‘stores’ it at the bottom of his backpack.

This may be where all paper-based products go to die.

Speaking of dying, this segues nicely into our little family weekend adventure.  I have to preface this by saying that of my three boys, Mad Dog normally requires the least amount of supervision.  I may have to change this policy to preserve his safety.

On Friday, Mad Dog had a routine root canal.  He seemed to have the pain mostly managed and overall, had everything ‘under control’.

Shortly after when he took the allotted four ibupofren to manage pain, he realized he accidentally ingested four of his antibiotic pills instead.

He should have taken 300mgs, but decided to go all out with 1200mgs.

To save you time, here is what Google said:

1200mgs is the very top of what a doctor would prescribe and only in a dire, life-threatening bacterial infection kind of way.  It said nothing about ingesting the 1200mgs as a way to threaten your own life in a general, absent-minded way.

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Taking too many antibiotics?

Thankfully, Mad Dog made it safely through the night.  Unfortunately, he nows move to the top of the list as being the most supervised of my three boys.