Do you know how pissed I am?

Well my husband just quit his job. A customer chewed his ass and he didn’t think he deserved it, so he quit on the spot. And how do I know this less than two hours later…

He calls me and says, “Do you have any errands you want me to run now that I have my days free?”

We are barely over the last hiccup with the truck that almost sent us to the homeless shelter. And now the budget will be short about $900/month. “Don’t worry,” he tells me. “I’m going to pick up a couple of extra hours at my other part-time job.”

I’m feeling sick to my stomach and I just want to scream at him, “Have you ever fucking considered finding another job before you quit! Could you not suck it up for one god damn day? Were you thinking about your family when you quit or just pissed of at the client?” I’m trying not to cry at work again. I hate crying period but people who cry at work are pathetic.

The good news is he will never hear the above rant. I know how words can wound and once they have left your lips and cut like a knife, they can’t be recalled and the damage undone. Sometimes Big Daddy hates that he can’t engage me in a shouting match. But I won’t do it. I only occasionally loose control and scream at the girls but it has to be something pretty serious to cause me to lose control.

Sometimes I wish I could shout the angry words at him. I fear he might not realize how angry I am at him. But I can’t, not with my upbringing. I was beaten with words all of my childhood. And the child that speaks back, get beat back.

I wish he could have kept the news to himself until I got home. Now that I think about it, he sounded happy. Its like he got some kind of joy out of ruining my day.

Will it be enough?

http://www.michaelmain.com/2005_02_01_theach.html#110927734920351067

I was reading my friend Michael’s blog about a man who has lost his wife to cancer and how this man is very independent and the only person he had relied on was his wife. It made me wonder about what would happen to my husband when I die. (I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.)

My husband totally relies on me for most everything. That’s probably why our marriage works for us. I get to be incharge of most stuff (control issues) and he gets to be taken care of.

I pay the bills, manage the money, house and kids, do the taxes, do all purchasing (clothing, appliances, groceries, etc.), fix all meals, complete or schedule all repairs and all things medical and dental. He works (hard), mows the yard (usually without me yelling), scoops all the litterboxes, is incharge of all trash and getting it to the curb. He is more likely to clean house than I am and apparently he likes to vacuum (yuck). Laundry is about a 50/50 split but there have been years that it was all him.

I see the big difference as he has no idea how to complete all the things I do but I can easily pick up his chores. I mean, see the grass is long and cut it as opposed to when are the girls due for dental checkups, see kitty poop and scoop it as opposed to completing the taxes.

The biggest thing I do is worship God and teach the girls to follow God. Big Daddy isn’t really into religion. He has a hard time believing in anything or anyone. He has no faith. Except his faith in me to handle those things I handle.

When I’m gone what will he do? I’ve asked him if he would remarry and he said “no, once was enough. I’m just gonna hangout with my cats”. I don’t know if I should be honored or creeped out. I wonder if my church family will surround him and take care of him, show him how to do the things I do for him.

And finally, will it be enough to give him faith that we will see each other in heaven.

Don't forget the pregnancy test

I stopped by Walgreen’s drug store on my way to work this morning. I’m in charge of my boss’ baby shower and needed to get a card for the employees to sign to go with her gift certificate. I spent a couple of minutes checking to see if I absolutely needed anything or if they had anything marked down so far that I absolutely needed to buy it. Nothing really, thank goodness.

So I head to the front counter, still checking around to see if I need anything. There next to the register, the impulse purchase counter, what do they have for sale along with lip balm, candy bars, and gum?

Pregnancy Tests

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot, I totally need one of these… and some chapstick.”

I can’t imagine a pregnancy test being an impulse buy. Can you?

Here we go again

Big daddy is planning to go back to working nights and weekends. We have just settled into a routine and here he goes blowing it. He is just putting too many miles on the truck (1,000+ per week) and there's the whole tax issue. He's tired of driving in traffic all day. He feels its just a matter of time before he is involved in a serious accident. (He's had a couple of minor accidents, several tickets, and way too many parking citations.)

He's probably looking forward to working evenings again. Its odd how he doesn't get how we girls interact in the evenings. He doesn't appreciate the noise of us trying to get things done and he isn't happy that we have our own activities almost every night. He hates what we love to watch on TV (reality) and we hate that he flips through channels like there's a winner for who flips the most and all his CSI shows (there's like 6 of them), don't get me started.

So maybe it's for the best. We'll go back to treasuring the 2 days a week we see him. He really didn't do much with us when we had every day together. In the beginning I even thought we might have more sex since we had 7 nights a week together. Sadly, we are just too tired in the middle of the week. I'd rather have hot smokin' sex once in a while than ho hum sex every day.

I guess we'll go back to being asleep when he gets home and he'll go back to being a day sleeper. That's probably the biggest drawback for me. He was way less cranky sleeping nights. It's hard to sleep days what with the telephone, lawnmowers, daylight, etc.

No matter what, it was nice while it lasted.

Try, Try, Try Again

Sunday I watched in awe as the man who thought he’d never be called daddy, softly stroked his finger tips in swirling circles across his four-year old son’s back. He made slow soft sweeps as his son sat on his lap. The man was watching the pastor deliver the sermon not looking at his son. I watched the boy visibly relax and settle down in his father’s lap. His dad ran his fingers through the boy’s hair and they both seemed that much closer to heaven.

I can tend to be distracted by the small things. The large autistic teenage boy in the back who has a tendency to shout out doesn’t cause me to miss a beat. It’s the little scenarios that catch my attention and cause my mind to wander. The little boy in front of me was also trying to stay in big church. Both his parents were at their wits end. They had stepped out a couple of times to quiet him. They tried coloring, talking softly, holding him but he didn’t want to be there and he keep telling them loud and clear. I’m betting they didn’t catch much of the sermon.

There are several people working on keeping their 4 and 5 year olds in big church. They seem a little young but I know their parents enough to know they haven’t made the decision rashly. Heck, I know from experience that its way easier to keep them in the nursery than to try to get your child to behave and still get something from the sermon yourself. Shoot, if I had my way little princess would still be in the nursery at her current age of 11.

No, that’s not true but she was in the back classroom until she could get something from the adult hour of worship. She didn’t pay attention to the sermon for many years (some people still don’t) but she enjoyed singing the songs of our faith and I loved hearing her sing them to herself in the shower and at night in bed, comforting herself.

Then last week, lo and behold, as the pastor gave the chapter and verse for the sermon, little princess grabbed her bible and immediately flipped open and followed along. My eyes welled up with tears of joy.

To all of you trying to keep your kids in “Big” church: Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but one day they will want to be there. ps. They probably won’t thank you with words but that’s OK too.

Weekend Updates with Norm McDonald

Well the 2nd Chance Valentine's Dinner was a success and I probably didn't need to stress as much as I did. I haven't had a headache that bad in years. They raised approx. $570. My students served as waiters and waitresses for this rather formal sitdown dinner. They had to take drink orders, serve salads, take orders for meat sauce or plain and serve the main course, serve bread, keep drinks refilled, take orders for dessert and serve it and see if anyone wanted coffee. We made them dress in black pants and white shirts. So they were bone weary and their feet hurt and they were hungry by 8 pm. I think they have a new appreciation for the position. hee, hee!

We did vote and decided to skip Sunday School the next morning so we all got to sleep in an extra 1 1/2 hours. Yea!

Speaking of voting. They had the deacon and elder elections and I didn't make it. Yea! I'd have done it and served the position well but I'm not sad about the vote. I really just want to get through the next year with Big Princess in college before I start taking on any more projects.

So long for this year

Well, we are done with Rodeo for this year. I didn't have to sell beer for the American Legion, didn't have to work the booth for 4-H and I didn't have to sit through any shows (neither princesses showed animals this year). So, all in all, it was a rather uneventful rodeo season.

The weather was good both times we were there. As opposed to previous years' bad weather with rain and freezing temperatures. But hey, if we'd have had to be there more than twice this year the odds go up dramatically that we would encounter bad weather. That's the big reason we went Tuesday night, the weather was good but supposed to be turning wet and cold for the rest of the week.

This year's highlight:

Deep Fried Snickers

It looks harmless enough, like a corn dog on a stick. But in reality (or is it) you are holding a snickers candy bar rammed with a corndog stick, hand dipped in what appears to be funnel cake batter, deep fried for just the right amount of time to crisp the batter but not totally melt the candy bar. Resulting in an extremely sweet palate but with a hint of saltiness.

Its a crying shame but we didn't get to try the Deep Fried Twinkies.

Don't Get Me Started

You know what’s got me going now?

All the news coverage of Catholic Archbishop Patrick Flores stepping down and Jose Gomez being installed as San Antonio's new Catholic leader.

Whoop dee doo!

I’ve had to listen to radio, watch TV, read in the newspaper and the internet for a couple weeks now, stories documenting every freakin detail of the retirement of a religious leader and his replacement. I don’t need to know every detail of both their lives. Personally, I couldn’t care less. But me and every other person within several hundred miles has had to listen to the rise and fall of Flores and the promising future of Gomez.

Let me repeat, I don’t care (at all).

Why is this news? Ok, I could have taken it once or twice as news but its been every day for weeks. He’s no Michael Jackson molesting young boys (to the best of my knowledge). When other churches have changes to leadership no one writes story upon story about every detail.

I would say “Don’t get me started” but it's too late for that.

Last one to puke is out

Well I’m off to the rodeo for an afternoon of eatin stuff you can’t find the rest of the year and to ride rides until we puke. Big Daddy isn’t going. He can’t get off work and he really don’t’ enjoy this kinda entertainment. He asked “when will ya’ll be home?”

"When the last one pukes, we’ll be home."

We’re planning on smoked turkey legs, funnel cake, carmel or candied apples, salsa, chips, jams, sausage on a stick, corndogs, milk shakes w/milk straight from the cow, cotton candy, and so much more.

We’ll go into funhouses, glasshouses, merrigorounds, ferris wheels, rides that spin, rides that twist and go upside down. We’ll scope boys and laugh and giggle. We’ll pet animals and try not to step in “it”.

There’s time enough for the real world tomorrow. Tonight is for fun.

Fortune Cookies and Lent

I sat in the front row at church last night (highly unusual) contemplating during Ash Wednesday service, still pondering what it means to me. Should I give something up or add something on? Should I swear to exercise every day? Or maybe not drink sodas for 40 days? I sat there, staring straight ahead at the window, talking to God in my head with my eyes open. (Not my usual posture of head bowed, eyes closed)

Then I was distracted by my reflection in the clear smooth glass of the window. There are several dim light sources that light the church. These caused my reflection to blur and overlap itself. I was mesmerized by the fact that I couldn’t see past my blurry reflection. I could not see “out” the window. Everything beyond the clear smooth panes of glass was black.

I sat for several long minutes gazing at my multiple images and trying to see beyond myself. But it was just blurry me and the blackness beyond. Then a car pulled into the parking lot and the light from the other side allowed me to see beyond the window itself. I could see the trees and landscape clearly now and my image, it was no longer blurry but a single image of me that was transparent allowing me to see through myself to the outside world.

Let me see if I can extrapolate that into a Chinese fortune cookie. Your life is blurry and you have a hard time seeing beyond yourself. Yep. You need an exterior light source to light the darkness so you may see beyond that darkness. Uh huh. With a light (from God) you can start to focus your reflection (soul) and see the world through that focus. Yeah.

I’m no philosophizer (as we like to say in Texas) but that seems like a pretty clear message to me. So my plan is to spend this Lenten season focusing myself on God’s light so that I can see more clearly and clearly be seen.

Who's counting

People like to touch me. Often co-workers touch my hair as they go by me in the hallway at work. Complete strangers will touch my arm while in line at Wal-Mart. Everyone at church puts their arm around my shoulders and there are always hugs. The kids at the shelter can't get enough of touching me and they are usually chidded by the nun in charge.

I didn't grow up being touched. Far from it. I can remember the first time my mother said she loved me. It was during a crisis moment when she thought her husband (#4) might kill one of us. I was probably twelve years old.

I actually tend to flinch when people look like they are going to touch me. Which is kinda funny since I crave physical contact. The princesses know they can get anything they want with a foot rub or back massage or by brushing my hair, all excuses to be touched, soothed.

That's all, I just found it strange that so many people reach out for me. So far today I've been touched by 3 people. Is everyone touched by people? Maybe you just aren't counting.

Dave from Heaven

I definitely hear the Lord. I definitely see the Lord.

The truck is broke and while I don’t take that as a sign from God, it has provided me many opportunities to see and hear God. I had to turn my fear over to the Lord for it to be lifted. And that’s not easy. Heck, I don’t even let my husband balance our checkbook because I have control issues. Its not that he can’t add and subtract. It's that I can’t turn things over to others. Especially my fears.

The truck will cost more than we have in the bank. Due to my efforts to get us out of debt we cannot apply for credit. Yes, its harsh but we had to do it. We can’t live without the truck. If big daddy don’t work he don’t get paid. And we are probably only 4 paychecks from homelessness. That ain’t no lie.

We have hauled that truck from garage to garage, spending money at each stop, and yet it still doesn’t run. It was at the dealership last week and they wanted my soul in exchange to repair it. I sat at work stunned by what they told me it would take to fix it. I thought, let me call around and see if there are any options. The first call, no one answered at the garage. Second call connected me to a man name Dave.

He listened to what us and the truck had been through and he asked if he could look at it. “No charge, just let me see if there’s anything I can do.” I told him I didn’t have a way to get it to him until the next day. He asked where it currently was and I told him. “Shoot, I’ll just go pick it up. It’s just down the road.” I explained that the dealership was going to charge us $72 just for looking at it and I didn’t have a way to pay that until after work. Dave said “I tell you what, I’ll put it on the American Express and put it on your bill here. If that’s ok?”

How could that not be ok. I’d been praying all day that the dealership would be able to fix it for a price we could handle. I called my husband with the news and we both breathed a sigh of relief. I was still concerned about how much it might cost but I was calmed enough to finally sleep over the weekend.

Monday and Dave calls. “Bad new, someone cut the harness wiring and it will have to be replaced.” Unfortunately this takes the price up $500 over what I can get my hands on in the next week. Dave has his office run a credit application for 6 months same as cash but it comes back denied. Dave apologizes like its his fault. I explain that we are cashing in some stock to pay for the repairs but won’t be able to get it for a couple of weeks. I tell him I’ll have to speak to my husband and see what we can do. He tells me to call him back and let him know what we want to do by 3:30 so he can order the parts.

I have a screaming match over the phone with my husband. The stress of this is killing us both and we are taking it out on each other. I sit in my office and cry silently. I start ticking off the things I have to cancel due to not having two vehicles, can’t take the girls to the rodeo, can’t pick up the girls from school, can’t go to Dallas with the Youth Group next weekend. That really makes me start to sob. I’ve been looking forward to this trip with Big Princess and others are counting on me.

I confide in God that I don’t any answers. “I thought you kept the first garage I called from answering so that Dave would be the one to help us out of this mess. I guess I was wrong.” Lord knows, I hate to be wrong.

A coworker tells me she can take me home and it's about that time. My phone rings, it's Dave.

“Hey, I’ve been in and out of the office and wasn’t sure if you’d called back.”

I explained that we can’t get our hands on the addition $500 the wiring problem is going to cost. I can hardly talk.

“I’m going to order the parts anyway. We’ll figure this out. You’ve got a checking account, right?”

“Yeah”

“You’ll just post-date me a check for the rest. I know ya’ll need this truck and I don’t want it. So we’ll get this done for you.”

At this point I start crying again and all I can do is whisper, “Thank you”. He says something more but all I can do is whisper “Thank you” again and hang up.

So the drama’s not over but I’m turning it over to the Lord. See, the money to pay for the truck isn’t just laying around in savings earning interest. That money is the mortgage, the vehicle, the utilities, the insurance payments and they are all do now. So we will be late with everything while we wait for the stocks to be cashed in and sent to us. If there is a problem getting that money we could be living on the streets pretty fast. I am not afraid.

Why, why would anyone do this?

Woman Charged with Killing Husband with Enema
LAST UPDATE: 2/4/2005 12:02:48 AM
Posted By: Jim Forsyth

A southeast Texas woman is charged with negligent homicide for giving her alcoholic husband an enema laced with sherry wine.

Police Detective Robert Turner in Lake Jackson, near Houston, says Tammy Jean Warner gave her 58 year old husband Michael the enema, knowing that the alcohol she put in it could be fatal.

"Sherry already has a greater alcohol content than normal wine," Turner said. "She knew that even if he passed out, the alcohol would continue to flow into him and he would absorb the alcohol, and that's what caused the overdose.

Turner said an autopsy revealed Warner had a blood alcohol count of .47, near six times the legal limit. "Anything over three, you're looking into going into a coma," Turner said.

Reasons why I haven’t written (and have started drinking)

SUNDAY-Just discovered a big, big, big tax problem.
MONDAY-Husband’s truck is broke down.
TUESDAY- Jury Duty
WEDNESDAY-Planning two day trail ride with 4-H kids for next month and a Valentine’s dinner for the mission trip this month.
THURSDAY-Planning a baby shower for my boss, involves coordinating potluck lunch for 90 people and Parent-Teacher (ARD) conference for little princess.
SATURDAY-Youth Day at Rodeo includes a hands-on demonstration for 1,500 with my 4-H kids, a food show for little princess and a photography show for both girls.
Three day Youth trip to Dallas (technically next weekend).
SUNDAY-300 boxes of Girl Scout cookies coming and needing to be delivered.

I’m feeling overwhelmed, stressed, and depressed. I know this will all pass, the feelings, the activities, the problems. But, for just I little while, I want to put my head in the sand, my fingers in my ears, and hum a silly song, pretend I’m mentally insane.

ps. Onion rings at jury duty were fabulous as always.

See entry Friday, October 22, 2004 It Ain't Letterman's Top 10 List