What Does Marriage Mean?

What is marriage? For a long time I simply viewed it as a social construct that we have created in order to have structure. A legality that is not necessary. I always thought that I never wanted, nor needed marriage. I can have love, commitment, mutual respect, companionship.... you get the idea, I can have it all without marriage. So, how did I get to be less than 2 months out from my wedding, when I always thought that marriage is something I wanted, nor needed? That's a good question.

The Mister is almost ten years older than me. GASP! I know, old balls. Anywho, we both have lived very, very different lives. He went and had an adventure during his twenties, while I did what every good kid does and went to college/grad school. The Mister and I met while I was in grad school, so he saw me at my most broke, most stressed out. We started out "just dating" and somehow that turned into us meeting each other's parents and a year of dating. Then, we started talking about what to do when our leases were up (we lived in apartments next door to each other) after two years. I'm not sure how, but these two people who neither wanted nor needed marriage were now in a committed, long-term relationship are getting married. We both knew we wanted the same things for our future and that our futures involved each other. Then, one day The Mister came home and asked me to marry him. It wasn't something we had talked about. We had never discussed marriage, but we had talked about buying a house, new cars, everything else in life we were going to share.

So, what does marriage mean to me? At this point, it is a honest, true commitment to each other. It is a way that we are showing our love to each other. While the party itself is to involve our family and friends, the marriage itself is for us. We want each other and nobody else. Awww true love.

Oh, and it means that he can support my Target and shoe addiction. There are definite bonuses to this marriage business.

I'm just saying. 

What does marriage mean to you?

Humpday Confessions

I'mmmmm back bitches! I'm doing a my Humpday Confessions with Kathy at Vodka and Soda. Since it it the last week of school for me I want to make it teacher/school style confessions. Yay for working so hard 10 months out of the year that I earn my summers off!

I have to give the disclaimer: I am not a certified teacher. I am a school social worker. I just spend all day, err day with teachers and everything thinks that I am a teacher. 

• We talk about kids. Like talk about kids in the staff lounge, talk about what's going on at happy hour, etc. It's one of the moments where you have to share the funny story of the kid who talked about how mommy and daddy made them a new baby sister. In anatomically correct terms. In detail. We can't help it, that shit is too good to share. 

• We will send kids to the office just to get a break from them. Somedays you just ain't got time for dat. And by that I mean the little turd who won't stop kicking the kids desk in front of them, stop talking, stop tapping their desk, stop throwing shit across the room, talking back, WHILE pretending to sleep. And you have PMS. So, he gets to go sit in the office for the morning just to give us a break. 
• Field trips are days that we dread. Everyone has this impression that they are the best day ever. Lie. Big fact lie. They are the worst days of the year. On par with field day levels of suckiness. Field trips are usually an entire grade level, so 60-80 kids, with the normal number of adults, so 4-6, and parents who have no clue what's going on so they mill about, kids who think since their parents are there they do not have to listen to shit you say, having to remember sack lunches for all those kids, double check that the buses are actually going to show up (because it really, really sucks when they don't), AND then lastly make sure the kids are safe, learning, and having fun. Oh, and most kids complain the entire time. They don't want to be at school, but they don't want to have someone telling them anything in public either. While it's nice you get to wear jeans that day, field trips suck. 
• We hate homework as much as the kids. What is the point of homework you ask? To show that the child has the ability to APPLY the skills. There is a point. If the student has the skill, then we need to see them apply it to know that they can generalize and USE the skill. Novel concept, I know. So, back to my actual point. Homework sucks donkey balls. We don't want to listen to the gripe of the kids when they receive the assignment, we don't want to grade the assignment, and we def don't want all the parent emails and phone calls that come along with homework. 

• Our teacher persona is not who we truly are. When I work individually with kids they get to know me so much better and are totally surprised I can talk about pop culture, my iPhone, reality tv, rap music. When I do an all class intervention, the kids all think I am that dorky lady who talks about bullying and emotions. So not true. Well, I am a dork, but still there is more to my dorkiness. 

Dog Behind the Blog: If Tigger Could Talk

I have two of the most naughty boxers in the world, Ginger and Tigger. If Tigger were a human he would be like Dave Chappele. If you don't know who that is google that shit right now. Tigger has swag. He may not have brains, but he's got a certain something about him (usually the smell of poo). Anyways, this is what I think he would be saying if he could talk.

He has so much swag he uses a purple leash. In yo face. 

"What? Doesn't everyone pee on the kitchen floor? No? Just me? My bad, I had no idea. You shoulda told me."

"It's that dirty beaver faced Ginger who did it. Why do I always get blamed? This is discrimination." Why yes, we do always blame you Tig. Not because of the color of your fur, but because you always do bad shit!

I sometimes think that if Tigger could sing to me, it would be all Brian MckNight style. Anyone remember "Back at One"? Best. Song. Ever. And Tig-Tig Lamar would sing it to you. 

 

I mean do the comparison, TT has soul. Like get in your panties soul. 

Do your fur babies have distinct personalities? Tell me about it!

Someone Who Isn't Me

So, in the past few weeks I've learned a lot. As The Mister was trolling forums for people with opiate addictions, that's a story I'll tell in a minute, we kept seeing the acronym SWIM. WTF is SWIM? And why do people keep writing SWIM is having issues with x, y, z. One google click later we realized it stand for Someone Who Isn't Me---- SWIM. So, this post is going to be a SWIM me post. Be warned, some is way TMI.

SWIM had to troll opiate addiction forums to look up what herion addicts do to make themselves pee. Turns out the constipation problem from drugs is actually easier to fix than the not being able to pee.

SWIM was going to throat punch an invalid who was snoring. #andnofucksweregivin

SWIM has left said invalid in the same underoos since Sunday.

SWIM is now holding onto their dooks until work they are so grossed out by the toilet seat riser. Which is saying something, because school bathrooms are not that awesome either.

SWIM has been watching all the E!and Lifetime stuff on Anna Nicole Smith. Don't ask me why. Side note, who remembers the home video where her face is painted as a clown and she calls her pregnancy gas? Other random side note, was Dannielynn originally named something else and her name changed after AN's son Daniel died?

SWIM accidentally cut a pair of underwear off of someone on Sunday rather than taking of the velcro leg cast thingy, so that bath time could occur. #RIP

Someone WHO IS me has learned that shit like this is when you learn how patient and forgiving people are. Because SWIM totally told the invalid "no." when he asked for something, although I am sure that SWIM did go get whatever it was a few minutes later.

I learned that we take a lot of our everyday life for granted. All the little things that annoy us are the things we wish really appreciate having the ability to do. Like changing your underwear. I learned that you have to truly LIKE someone to appreciate them at their crankiest and lowest point. Because you know and recognize that this is probably the hardest thing they've ever gone through and you have to support them 100%.

What all is going on with you? I would love to hear about it!

Who NOT to Send a Card to

Due to the nature of being a twenty-something, I send cards all the time. Thank you cards, party invites, birthday cards, congrats on the baby cards, wedding cards---- you name it I've bought it in the past six months. All my friends are getting married and having babies. Since we all know who we would send a card to, let's think of who we WOULDN'T send a card to. I've got some ideas.

• Your ex's new boo. I mean what are you gonna say? Hey girl, let's get some drinks and compare notes? If you were going to send one, I suggest the one below. Why this one you ask? Because obviously you both have something in common or he wouldn't have picked you both. LOL!

•  The cashier at the liqour store. Don't get me wrong, if someone was worthy of a bff card, it would def be this guy because he knows more about you than you think. He knows that when you tailgate you buy beer, when you have a girls night you buy wine, when you had a bad week you buy vodka. He knows you better than anyone, yet not at all. On second thought, maybe it is a good idea to get him a card. I have the perfect one.

• Your lady doctor. Again, they know you so well, yet not at all. They do get to see your lady bits more often than most (and for some more often than their man!), so they have a special place in your heart, if you truly wanted to send a card my suggestion would be this one.

My work wives, Amy and Angie, hosted a bridal shower for me with a Stock the Bar theme last week, so I gave them these cards as a thank you/ I appreciate you. Oh, and yes the party was after hours.

Angie received this one:

Amy got this one:





Where did all these awesome cards come from? This amazing website Treat, which is a part of the Shutterfly brand. It is totally legit. If you create an account you can set up reminders (hello birthdays I always forget!), schedule ahead so you know it'll get there, and mailing services so that the card can be directly mailed to the person. What's not to love!



Tigger Style Fun

Ohhh boy. This week has been exhausting. So, as you know my main man had his patellar tendon surgery Wednesday. That has sorta taken over our life. We've cancelled most everything else we've had going on, as Sir Gimps A Lot can't move.

You know who is handling all this really well? The boxers. They are such love muffins, they don't know what to do with their Daddy locked away in the bedroom. So, they are resorting to being good. And when they're good they get treats. I bought them french fries the other day. And they get ice cubes when I'm in the kitchen. Them hoes love to chew on some ice cubes, don't ask me why.

Because they have been so good, I have tried to make sure to spend a little extra time with them outside, so they know they are still the bosses of our house

#futuremrschauvin 

Oh, you noticed that Ginger isn't in any pictures? That bitch believes that the camera adds 10lbs and refuses to take photos. I know, such a diva.

I wanted to add a super fun video of the boxers playing, but I have no idea how. Sorry!

Life Confessions

Ok, so life update. My Mister is going into surgery at 8am on Wednesday morning. Meaning, he just went into surgery as I post this. He has a torn patellar tendon, so they are going to use a bunch of duck tape and glue to put his kneecap back into place. Then, he his leg is going to continue to be immobilized for another 6 weeks. Some of the amazingness of this week I had to share with you, confessions style.

• I have had a dirty butt in my face. Yup, trying to figure out how to get his stank ass in the shower (pun intended) was a moment I will never forget. We put the leg condom on to cover the brace, then tried every maneuver we could think of to get him in the shower and sitting on the old people shower stool. And at one point, I was bending down to move something and had his dirty ass in my face. And no, I was not moving any dirty man balls or anything gross like that. 
• I have seen more hairy man leg than I care to admit. At one point, I politely asked if he could cover his furry man thigh. It used to excite me, now all I want is all the important bits covered so that he doesn't get too cold. Because if he got too cold, I would have to get a blanket for him and that just creates more work for me. 
• I went to work with my purse looking like I was going to peddle drugs and tobacco to all the small kiddos I work with. I went by the pharmacy and left the bottles in my bag-- you want an Oxy? I got that. The biggest Advil known to man? Got that too. Oh, and nicotine alternatives, as G kicked the disgusting cigarette habit a few months before we met (approx 5 years ago), but has never been able to kick nicotine itself. 
• We have the economy size Miralax in our home now. Apparently those super awesome, highly guarded drugs also make you constipated. And like all old people will tell you, having a regular dook is important in life. 
• Speaking of dooks, we also now have a seat riser on our lone toilet in our home. Most disgusting thing ever. Yet, I have a text message from a person I will not name, stating that the toilet donut was the best invention ever. I mean, it is padded, but it is soooo gross. 

I leave you with this--- he just told the nurses they didn't need to worry about his modesty as in a few minutes he would be knocked out, pants less, and farting on himself then said "YOLO." That's my boo. 

I have no clue what comes next...

So, shit went south really quick this week. On Tuesday around 1pm, I got a voicemail from Gabriel saying that he was hurt real bad and going to the emergency room. You could tell something was wrong from his voice--- it sounded weak and thready. I was able to get to the ER in enough time to here his after care instructions and to take him home.

Gabriel tripped on something set on some stairs and fell down the stairs. During his fall, his kneecap hit the edge of the next stair. It appears that hitting the edge of the stair severed the tendons/muscles attaching his thigh bone to his knee cap.... so, he had his MRI completed Wednesday morning and we are waiting to get into an orthopedic surgeon. We have not heard an official prognosis, but from what we have read he will hopefully be walking again within a few months (3-4).

This was a little after we got home from the ER. Homie couldn't even get his pants off, so I put him in some shorts. You can see his knee cap his sorta up and to the right. It def shouldn't be.

Right now, we are trying to figure out what this all means and navigate the world of insurance and FMLA. We are extremely glad we bought trip insurance for our honeymoon, as we will definitely not be going  on that this year. His parents have been really helpful, as he can't carry anything and is learning to navigate our house on crutches without being able to move his leg at all. His mom took him to his MRI appointment and his dad mowed the lawn, so that I won't have to take care of that for a while.

That's where I am at right now....

This is day 2. He went and got his MRI and was deemed a fall risk. You can see how his knee is so fluid filled it is coming out of the brace. It's sorta feels like jelly right now. 

Random Ways to Amuse Yourself

You ever have those days were you are wide awake, but bored out of your mind? I have them A LOT! I know there are things I should be doing, but I just don't want to. That pile of paperwork? meh. The laundry? boo. So what do I do instead?


Shake it fast! I like to turn on the music in my head and go dance on the Mr. He truly loves it, but tries to pretend like he doesn't. I really like to do it when he is intensely in the middle of something. That's when he likes it best.

 

Torture the dogs. The boxers only want it when I don't. So, the minute I want to hang out with them they run away and try to hide from me. They are such fickle creatures. I'm just trying to show them some love.

 

 

Find a Lifetime movie to watch. That shit is cray! Although, they are starting to get a little too deep now, has anyone attempted to watch Starving in Suburbia? Too much. Way too much. Don't do it. Watch True Tori instead. That shit is way more amusing.

 

 





Talk to yourself. While I know this sounds slightly cray cray, who knows you better than you? When having a conversation with yourself nobody gets mad, no feelings get hurt, and nobody is pissy if you don't follow through on a promise. Best conversation ever. The only bad part is that you are only hysterically funny when no one else is around, so people are missing out on this awesomeness.

 

 

 

 

What are some of your favorite ways to amuse yourself?

 



Can This Be My First Dance Song?

I have a mild obsession with John Legend. Like, I'm not even hating that he has what should be a douche lord stage name (here's looking at you Chad Ochocinco). I think he is the most attractive man ever. Well, give or take a few other attractive men. Anyways, back to John. He just has such swag and is always so poised and well put together. So, can this song be my first dance song? Or is it too much? Because if it's not this, it will be a Bret Michaels song because he is my other musician obsession. Judge me all you want. They are my abso-fucking-lute fave. Give me a week and it will change. 

For real, can this be my first dance song?