Homemade Lip Balm...Yum!

I spent last night putting together lip balm for my coworkers (not all of them- that would be impossible and completely unnecessary). They are for the people I most associate with and consider friends and acquaintances. They (the lip balm jars) will be in holiday tins, accompanied with other treats. It was an interesting project to try, to say the least. One of the few Martha Stewart moments I've had in my life. (If you're interested in trying these yourself, check out the recipe here.)

First, I purchased a big, 1 pound block of beeswax from Roberts Crafts. It cost me about $12.00, but I wanted to err on the side of caution. They had these little baggies of beeswax in balls (that looked sort of like Dipin' Dots ice cream) that were $5.00 per bag, but I didn't think that would be enough. I'm really glad I didn't get those. I would have accomplished nothing last night with those little bags of nothing.

The work was in the grating of the beeswax. I couldn't' cut it (too hard), so I grated down the sides, then grated down the middle. (My forearms would make Popeye envious.) The wax had a pleasing, sweet scent that I didn't expect, even though the label said that it was all natural from the bees and could have a slightly sweet smell and may have bee parts but not to worry because that's a good thing to have parts of the bees. Hmmm.

So, after grating onto wax paper (easy clean up) I scooped by measurements into the double boiler and stirred my wax with the Castor oil. Into the measuring cup, I added the essential oil (peppermint for the first batch and almond for the second batch...for Christmas) and honey. They turned out better than I expected. I increased my recipe to fill about ten of the little containers you see in the picture above. I hope the coworkers appreciate the effort and actually use the lip balm. I can envision the precious little jars of love being stored away in a drawer, never to be thought of again until spring cleaning, 2010, where the vial is rediscovered and tossed due to its mystery contents. FYI - The clean up was not fun. Imagine cleaning dishes covered in Vaseline. Soap, soap and more soap.

So, only two more days in the office and then I'm outta here (oh, my two days of training next week are off-site). Not sure how often I'll post during this time off. I'll try to get in and update on the events going on (interesting or not). I like having the journal to look back on in later years. I have paper journals on book shelves in my house. I sometimes wonder if my hubby reads those sometimes...peeking into my life to see how crazy I really am.

The girls watched Meet Me in St. Louis again last night. My eldest really seems to like it. Hubby was eager to leave the room during the musical numbers. He's such a guy. It's sort of funny because I have those songs on disc for the girls and, if he's in my car when the disc is in, I can catch him humming those tunes later. I don't think he even realizes he's doing it.

I Feel Pretty

At least, today I do. I haven't for a while and mostly it's because of the baby weight that's still plaguing me. But, even with the baby weight and all, I'm feeling kinda hot. Crimson, off-the-shoulder sweater with a very large, ornate, rhinestone choker. Black dress slacks and some sparkly, gold flats I bought from Ross a couple of months ago (intended for my Halloween costume, but that didn't quite work out). I'm actually wearing make-up (rare for me) with Mac eyes in gold-dust along with my Ardell lashes (not sure if mine are the same model as in the picture, but they look like them).

My other reason for feeling pretty isn't just what's happening on the outside, but what's been said that's affected how I feel on the inside. I got home yesterday, after a pretty awful day, to two dozen, long-stemmed roses (pink and yellow). The babe announced that she had picked out the pink ones while her father picked out the yellow. My hubby said, "It's been too long since I've gotten you any flowers. You deserve them." So yeah, it's been a couple of months but I do know of people who have only ever received them from a boyfriend or spouse once or twice in the entire time of their relationship. I consider myself pretty fortunate.

After inhaling the perfume of my roses for a bit, I saw that he had prepared dinner (New York Sirloin, thank you very much), roasted potatoes and an amaretto sour to make the dinner complete (I know...no veggies, but who's complaining?). We watched Ice Age: The Meltdown as a family and then tucked the kids in directly after. I'm on the tail-end of TOM so, I spent the first part of the adult portion of the evening pleasuring my hubby. I love to, but usually end up frustrated because there's not much he can do besides tease when I'm in my current state. But, as I said, I'm on the tail-end so, I "took advantage of him" (his words this morning) last night and got mine. Woohoo! He was like, "You have no idea how disappointed I was when you woke me up and took advantage of me." Hmm... I'm sure I know just how disappointed you were. I really love when he's home.

I found out that my training from hell is only going to last two days, now. Hooray! I was really upset about the possibility of driving an hour for my commute into the heaviest, populated area of town, for four days straight. I can live with two days.

Speaking of which, I suppose I'd better get started on some work. This euphoria has a way with keeping one from the tasks at hand.

Starting Over

My mother has a new puppy; a black and tan coonhound. He's quite the character, from what I saw on Saturday. He's about half a year and has energy to spare...quite the opposite of her Rottie, in his last days. She's been spending a lot of time playing with him and running him around the yard. "He never seems to get tired," she said. He's very cute and has one of those amazing, guttural barks. Once he acquires a few manners (some training will do nicely), he'll be a great companion.

I've had a headache for the past two days and I rarely get them. I've also been drinking everything accept water. So, I've deduced I'm probably very dehydrated. It will be water, water, water for me today. I was doing really well with my workouts the week before last, then hubby and I both slacked all of last week. He'll be going to the gym this morning and I'll be motivating myself to come home and do something after work (with this headache, the idea of getting on the elliptical trainer was not appealing at all).

Only a week and a half or so more before I'm off for the holidays (I hope). There's this training that I have to attend, looming over my head, and I am not looking forward to it. Who schedules training the week before the holidays? Ugh! Supposedly, it's the only time the trainer can come in and work with us. I really find that hard to believe, but okay. I just wish we could have done this at the beginning of December rather than next week. Then, people could have scheduled the time off they really wanted.

Oh, and the shopping. We went to the mall last night. What a madhouse! I try to avoid stores in general, during the holidays (only trying to go early in the morning or late at night) but I had to get something from a store in the mall for my mother-in-law. People, people everywhere...seriously. We were bumping into people from both sides. I'm so glad I knew what I needed, knew where to go then got the heck out of there. I'll be so glad when I'm done and don't have to endure the crowds anymore. Yeesh! Just stopping at the grocery store now is a chore.

A Follow-up to Yesterday's Events

(And some answers to questions, GC )

So, today my boss pulls me into his office just after I got an IM from the VP I talked to yesterday. She's telling me that she knows it's not distrust and that, in her opinion, the telecommuting option is my boss having "hang ups" about it. When I talked to him, he put my mind at ease about the documentation issue and confirmed what she said. The answers to these questions ought to paint the full picture:

Are their set rules for how telecommuting works? Yes and no. For our doctorate holders, they are basically told that's how they will work when they're hired. For administrators and other staff, like myself, it's a case-by-case basis. This is part of the issue: there are no set policies (my boss and I discussed this in-depth)

Is it possibly part of your position why you have to document? Yes. That was discovered today when I talked to him. I'm basically working in an environment where there are only a few, defined tasks I do daily. Everything else is sort of customer service driven by the emails I receive throughout the day (and they are in the hundreds). The others I spoke of to him that are telecommuting, all have very defined tasks so, I'm unique. It made sense and I'm glad he got that cleared up for me.

Are there other people working for your particular supervisor and don't have to document? No. That is the other part of the uniqueness. I'm the only one, currently (but there are only two others in my department and neither one of them has been here a year, as of yet). Not that the time matters, but I think it should if ever policies are to be put into place. Also, I believe one of my department coworkers needs to be able to get up and go to the office for the sake of her own mental well being. She's also a part-time employee. The other person in my department has been with us a little over a month.

Have you heard of other things--perks or responsibilities that you had/have that make you go, "hmmm"? Not really a perk but, my boss is one of the few that isn't overbearing and controlling. Many of the managers around here seem to be that way. We (my department) are very fortunate. We have very little to complain about, in terms of how much time we request off and his flexibility with schedules. Some managers make it an act of congress even to take a sick day (and if some of those employees weren't so scared, they could really get their managers into a lot of trouble with HR if they said something).

Beyond the questions posed, he went on to tell me how he feels about my telecommuting full-time (which I requested, again...this is like the fourth or fifth time). He stated that he feels this is an "in the office" type of position but that he is willing to "revisit that notion" now that he knows I really want to do this. He made little jokes like, "changing his way of thinking about telecommuting" which I took for somewhat serious somewhat joking, jokes. We discussed policies coming into place and what my idea of said policies should be. I even voiced my ideas of trial and probationary periods to see if it works for the employee. He said that this may be a possibility (but honestly, he didn't seem like he was going to turn a cart-wheel over it or anything).

Over and over he said several times, that he enjoyed working with me and had no qualms about my work and in the times I have telecommuted, he saw no problems. He said that he has this fear of "out of sight out of mind" and my friend said that to me, too. She said she told him how he doesn't need to worry about that with me and she doesn't with her folks. The resolution? (if you can call it that) in a month or so, we can talk about it again. Well, I have my review in January and I think I'll bring up trying the probationary period again. Even a couple of days a week again to start would make me so happy. (Oh, and I mentioned the cost of daycare and how I could potentially cut that in half by doing so).

For now, I still feel a bit in limbo...stable and secure about the reasons why I document, but still feeling like, "Hey, it's the 21st century and there's information to prove that people are more productive working from home. I wish my boss were a little more open-minded about the idea." It seems so odd that his mind seems so closed to it, since he's fairly liberal minded about other things. I guess I could gather information about proven cases of successful telecommuting but, I'm not sure if that will change his mind or not. I'll think about it.

Sad news...my mother's beloved doggie has died. This was her Rottie, who she adopted after her thirteen-year old English Springer Spaniel passed away about a year and a half ago. Her Rottie was diagnosed with bone cancer in his leg. The leg was amputated, then he was put on antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory. The anti-inflammatory caused her doggie to get hepatitis, which moved some how to his lungs and he died. My hubby took it really hard because her dog did not like any men, accept my hubby. They were good buddies.

A Good Reason for Coffee

Not a big java drinker...I like the fru fru types when I do drink it. I'm living on four hours of sleep right now (or there abouts). Four. I think I'll get a cappuccino this morning.

Throwing Down the Race Card

I'm not one to get on the political bandwagon (although I do think our country was in a much better way when a certain sax player was running the show), but I may have to do so in my work environment today. Not so much in terms of who's running our country as it is who's running the office.

It's now 10:00pm (the above paragraph was written about twelve hours ago). Here's the situation: I telecommute a couple of hours every day and have been since my daughter started school. I do so in order to take her to school (since daddy works the death shift). After I drop her off, it's off to the office I go to work the remainder of the day (the office, you'll recall, is more than thirty miles away). To make a very long story short, there are those who telecommute full time, but I seem to always get cut off at the knees when I ask about doing so for any length of time. Okay, maybe to put it a better way is I always seem to feel very guilty about asking, after my request is granted with multiple stipulations.

My years of seniority don't seem to matter and that just adds salt to the wound. I found out yesterday afternoon that I seem to be the only one documenting what I do each morning where there are multiple employees who telecommute full-time and have never done so. This morning, I spoke to one of our VPs (that I'm friendly with and trust) who has two employees under her telecommuting. She does not require it of either one of them. In fact, her boss recently asked her if she had additional employees who wanted to, in order to free up office space. I should mention that her boss was the one who told my boss to "find a way for her to document how she spends her hours." Hmmmm.

Well, is it distrust? I'm crushed, if it is. After six years, many accolades and an award to show that I'm worthy, are there possibly those that don't trust me? Or...dum, dum, dum, dum...is it race? I hate to even through that out there but, there are those who have worked less than a year, who went through no probationary periods and reside in our community (could easily come into the office to work). These individuals all telecommute and are of European decent (if you wanna get technical, so am I...but you couldn't tell by looking at me).

I talked to my mom, who has been in HR for years, and she suggested that I talk to my boss. So, I did. He was shocked and had no idea about these people and their lack of documentation. I was not surprised in the least. My boss is a kind, decent man and in general a rare breed of human. He's sees the best in people and always will. Much of the time, the other management staff are much more aggressive and are "climbers". This does not interest my boss. He doesn't participate in gossip and pretty much does his job, socializes a bit with us in the office, then goes home. There are plenty of times when we (his department) are more in the know about the goings on in the office than he is.

I don't mean to imply that he's a door-mat, just not one for conflict if it can be prevented. He's gone to bat for me plenty of times. He's honestly the best boss I've ever had. With our discussion, he was eager to seek out the reasons why and help level the tables if possible. I indicated that I wouldn't have balked at documenting my time spent, but once I heard no one else had to, I was really quite bothered. I also inquired as to if there were policies beginning and they are using me as a test, if there was distrust with what I was doing or "heaven forbid it's a race issue." He squirmed a bit at that, but seemed ready to discover the truth. I hope he does because being the Aquarius that I am, I want everything to be fair. I was really nervous before going in, but I'm certainly glad that I asked. It just always seemed to be such a touchy subject.

Now, it's late (for me) and I'm blogging about the events of the day still worried a bit about the possible outcome. I don't want to stir the pot for others who haven't had to, only to have that put into place for them and then they find out it was me (Ugh!). I shouldn't care about what they think, but I do. Three of them are terrific people and I'm glad they get the opportunity to telecommute and I also consider them friends. I want them to have that option for however long they want it, but I also want to open up the options for myself, too. Paranoia is creeping up on me more than usual...TOM hasn't appeared yet. I need a hormone dump quick and in a hurry! (I know, too much information).

Baby, it's Cold Outside!

We've had record breaking temps for the past couple of days. First, a storm from the pacific northwest ambushed us on Tuesday evening. My area got about three inches of snow, not a big deal, but Salt Lake was a complete white-out. When I drove in on Wednesday morning, the temps had dropped to the single digits (rare around here). This caused what moisture had fallen on the ground to freeze. Freezing is also rare here, but we had our share of ice storms back in Nashville. This caught the service crews off guard, so the salt trucks weren't much help. It took an hour to get to work, not bad, but not fun to be in the car so long. My poor car looks like it was dipped in salt and I'm cringing to think what it's doing to my paint. Guess I'll run it through the gas station car wash this weekend.

Outside, the fresh powder has made things look extra Christmassy. The lights that are on at night have that extra reflection off of the snow. Icicle lights look exceptionally pretty with snow covering them. I'll be glad when we have a regular snow storm...the kind where it dumps and then stays fresh on all the yards, but melts on the streets.

Inside, cuddling is so much more fun when it's freezing cold. Twinkling lights from the tree that light up our family room, hubby and I spooning tightly underneath a heavy blanket. It's been grand. This morning, he was home and randy (Awesome!) and after our hot and heavy session, it was hard to get up and get ready for work knowing that he could lay there almost indefinitely. I got to work early today to get home early tonight. No overtime scheduled and this is his weekend off. I can't say how thrilled I am. I'm extra happy because old TOM is due and there will be no lovin' after it shows up. (Oh, I'm extra happy because the way my luck runs most of the time, it would have shown up this morning and I would have been totally pissed off).

Christmas movies are playing at my house again. It's time. The babe has watched A Charlie Brown Christmas twice since I've "okayed" the watching of holiday movies again. She's also seen, Toy Story, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, Disney Princess- A Christmas of Enchantment, How the Grinch Stole Christmas (live action),Meet Me in St. Louis, the tale-end of Home Alone and White Christmas. She's yet to dig out the Garfield: Holiday Celebration since watching the Halloween special in October, but I suspect it's coming soon. There are so many more that will play in my house, during the month of December. Hubby can't understand why I wait till this time of year for her to watch these movies then get frustrated when she tries to watch this stuff during the middle of the year. I dunno. I just don't want to hear, "Have a holly, jolly Christmas" singing through my home in May. It's unsettling to me, somehow.

This year, though, her school is doing "Christmas Around the World" assignments. I don't have a problem with this but, then I got to thinking: "I live in Mormon-land, where most everyone celebrates Christmas. Where I grew up in California, I had Catholic, Muslim and Jewish friends. In fact, I made dradles and latkes in my second grade class. She may be to young for that explanation, but I think it's important for her to know a little bit about all faiths. I'll probably start introducing them next year.

Have we gone too far?

I had a conversation with a coworker about this very topic just yesterday and thought, "I've never posted this on my blog. I wonder if others have had thoughts about this as well." In the technological and media filled age we live in, we are exposed to information on a massive scale. Because of this, we as a society of inquiring beings know more about varied topics then we've ever known. We are more well-rounded, more accepting of others and our longevity has increased a few decades. (On the other hand, we are more jaded, more afraid and extremely picky about our lifestyles).

We are experimenting and dabbling in things that we would never have thought possible a century ago. One such area is procreation. Now, if you are single or in a same-sex relationship without prospects of reproducing, you can journey to your local sperm bank and receive the donor of your choice for the child of your choice. We've had this option for about 40+ years and it is extremely successful. Here's the thing (as described in my scenario below) that always throws me and has me banging my head against the table:

Suzy Single from Seattle picks out the sperm of Sherman Shootout (anonymous on the vial) but statistics include a 150IQ, brown eyes, brown hair, athletic build with a great health history as far as three generations back. Suzy becomes impregnated with Sherman Shootouts little men (for this example, Suzy has a bouncy baby boy, Sammy Single).
Two years later, Sherman Shootout gets married and has a daughter, the apple of his eye, Sheila Shootout. At 18, Sammy gets accepted at MIT and journeys to the city of squares to begin his higher education in linguistics and philosophy. His junior year, he meets the lovely Sheila Shootout, who has just begun her studies at MIT, also in the study of linguistics and philosophy.

Is this mechanism at all regulated because this freaking scares the crap out of me. A lot of this process is anonymous and, until now, DNA testing wasn't a widely used method of investigation and it's still very controlled (not something you normally do before you head down to the wedding chapel). Before getting married, you used to have blood tests performed. Where I was married, I didn't need one and have found that it is only required in certain states. I guess it doesn't matter because the scenario above is feasible (okay, extremely possible).

And if you're not buying my sperm bank theory, how about this:

Emily becomes preggers in 1955 and is in no way ready to get married to her boyfriend Chuck or raise a child(by the way, boyfriend has no idea about the baby). The family ushers her off get large, have the baby and then puts the baby up for adoption all in secret (Emily conveniently breaks up with Chuck before disappearing for nine months). Emily returns and Chuck has moved away. Fast forward twenty years. Chuck has married and had a child of his own and Emily's baby is now enjoying the tail-end of the sexual revolution, hooking up with Chuck's kid at the discotheque.

Aside from carrying around blood and DNA samples, how do people avoid these possibilities or something similar? My friend and I had no answers.

Thanksgiving Post Mortum - After the Bird

I'm not a big Turkey fan, but I eat it and am not concerned about it being "free range" or not. Does that make me a bad person? Because my turkey is pumped with God knows how many steroids and lives in a crowded space, only to be processed, frozen and sent to my local grocers...should I feel bad? Funny. I don't. And I consider myself an animal lover and a person who believes in being humane. Okay. So, if I could, I would make them all free range and give them wonderful feed and fluffy blankets to sleep on but I can't. As it is, I didn't eat huge amounts of turkey, but I ate a lot of everything else. I took home leftover turkey and have had two sandwhiches since Thursday.

The day was lovely, complete with family and good times. Even though we'd all seen it before, we watched Elf after the meal. We all laughed and started to feel the impending Christmas spirit that slips in just after the last of the turkey is sealed and placed in the freezer. I remembered last year's black Friday and my Braxton Hicks that wouldn't stop coming. Now, Indy is here and eating with her six, lovely teeth...crawling around and trying not to get knocked over by my mom's dog's huge, slobbering tongue.

Friday, we put up the tree and as with every year, hubby said, "I'm not putting up a lot of lights," only to cover most of our front yard and part of the back. Amazing! He didn't grow up with the Christmas frenzy the way I did, but somehow, I've rubbed off on him. The kids love it and Indy thought sucking on the lights was a great idea. Her big sister was appalled. :)

Saturday, the amoxicillin had taken it's tole and gave my poor little baby a yeast infection. Ugh! They're miserable for adults, I can only imagine how she was feeling...trapped in a suffocating diaper with all that redness and inflamation. We went to the insta/kid care (a sort of after-hours spot for medical concerns, without the hefty emergency hospital-visit prices) on Saturday night at around 7:30pm. They got us in fairly quickly and the doctor diagnosed her within seconds. We were written a prescription and sent on our way. Down the street I went to the nearby Walgreens to fill the prescription,"We're backed up," the pharmacist tells me, "And, this is a compound, so it will take a while...about an hour." Great. Oh, but one thing...the doctor has neglected to add the quantity. He tries to call, but they've turned on their night phone. Great!

Back to the Insta/Kid care to get a quantity on the prescription. I get that taken care of, then back to the Walgreens. The girls were exhausted and the babe fell asleep in the waiting chair. Indy fell asleep on my lap. By 10:10pm, we got the prescription and headed home. Yes, I suppose I could have waited till the next day to fill the prescription but when it comes to my kids and their suffering, there's no waiting. Indy wasn't going to bed with the itchies.

So, she's doing much better and not as grouchy. The babe was eager to get back to school and I am starting to cope. Cope with what? Well, it seems hubby has been given his schedule. Graveyard. Now, it's official. Two years on graveyard shift. When he told me, I seriously wanted to die. Then, I remembered; you're never given anything you can't handle. Everything happens for a reason. The good come to those who wait. I'll just bide my time, then.

Memories of Family

Being that this is the week of thankfulness and a concentration on the thoughts of family, I've been thinking about family gatherings of years past and I'm finding that my memory is growing short. For example, I spent the first 8.5 years of my life in sunny California, feasting over turkey and trimmings in 70 to 75 degree weather. I'm sure that after the feast, I probably ran outside to ride bikes with friends or play in my yard; however, I can't remember really doing this. I know that I must have because my mother cooks with a vengeance during this time of the year (country, soul food...there's nothing like it! Collard greens, baked macaroni and cheese, cornbread dressing, sweet potato casserole, squash, dirty rice...ah!). She's all about the fine china, the crystal water goblets and the good silver, too. I do remember helping her shine the silver and set the table. I remember it was during this time of the year that I relearned when to use whichever fork (work from the outside in, people). But, I don't remember eating anything. I don't remember if we invited company at her big, walnut dining table. I don't remember if I enjoyed the meal. I don't remember if life was even good, during this time. Strange, huh?

Fast forward to my life in Nashville with parents who barely spoke to each other and meals on the second floor of our split-level, rented home with the red shutters. I remember, again, helping my mother shine the silver and set the table, but I don't remember eating. I don't remember Christmas dinners either and we lived in this home for ten years. My father was off the road and always home during this time. I don't remember him carving the bird. I don't remember him sleeping after the big meal. I don't remember enjoying it. Why don't I remember eating?

My college years, my mother was already living in Utah and I remained in Tennessee until Christmas time. I would go to my best friend's for Thanksgiving (since my father's apartment never felt like home and he usually ate at some one's home whom I didn't know). I remember eating. I remember laughing a lot, eating and napping on her couch in their too small family room. I remember eating here, even though they were never thorough about the job they did in washing their dishes (this grossed me out most of the time, but I insisted on helping with the pre-cleaning process during my visits at Thanksgiving). I needed to enjoy a holiday meal after being subjected to cafeteria food for months on end.

Nineteen hundred and ninety-eight in Centerville, Utah for Thanksgiving...my first Thanksgiving with my mother in years. I remember that day and all the Thanksgivings after it. Lots of food, lots of laughter and lots of joy. I suppose, now that I write this, my memory has faded on Thanksgivings past because the joy was limited in my youth during that time. My father was usually on the road, or I was living in a house with limited love. I'm sure the meals were lovely, but the actions weren't worthy of memory. Those times that were worthy were kept in the forefront of my mind. I suppose these are the memories I will pull from when my mother is no longer here and I'm left to do the Thanksgiving preparation on my own (I don't want to even think about that right now).

So, here's what I'm thankful for: I'm thankful for my happy memories of family, friends and joyful times...for a comfortable home, for frequent laughter, for reasonable health and an able mind.

Intimacy...the Missing Piece

Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday of last week, my hubby was off work. We lost a day to a really dumb argument, but ended up having amazing make-up sex. Once it starts it doesn't stop, sort of like chips; you can't have just one. Over a two-day period, we were at each other five times...FIVE. Tuesday, on my way to work in bliss, I started thinking about how things get between us if the intimacy slacks for whatever reason. It could be his schedule, it could be my TOM or it could just be we're too tired to even see. Whatever the reason, if things aren't "popping off" at least three times a week, we're absolutely pissy with each other.

Initially, I thought, "Oh, this is normal. A healthy married or attached couple is probably intimate several times a week. No wonder we're going crazy." Wrong. The more I read and listen, the more I'm finding out that me and hubby are so in the minority (a couple of freaks, okay. Let's just go ahead and say it). I mean, not that there's anything wrong with being freaky but, we have more than our share at home...even with the kids (the babe said the other day that she was laying in bed one night and heard strange noises coming from our room. I guess we need to think about either taking it down a notch or going down stairs for our escapades). Most of the information I'm gleaning from others is a couple of times of month. Oh my god! I would die! Seriously, where's the razor so I can slit my wrists?

I've come to the conclusion that people would be much happier, couple relationships wouldn't become turnstiles as often, marriages wouldn't end in horrible knock down, drag out divorces and the need for Xanax, Valium, Zelnorm, beer, (name your cocktail) wouldn't be nearly as high if we were just getting laid more often. Okay, and maybe not even laid, a good session of oral pleasure a day? That could be the prescription for more health and happiness. Is this too far fetched? I'm starting to think not.

So, from this post you can probably tell that I'm missing my hubby. It was Wednesday evening before work that we managed to get a "quickie" in (about 25 minutes worth of lovin'). Anyway, last night I was restless and having a hard time sleeping. I realized that, because he had to go in for an overtime shift, I only saw him for about two minutes(no exaggeration, here). I got home at a little after five, and he left as I was coming in...giving us just a couple of minutes for a hug and a kiss goodbye. Oh, that just sucked! No physical or mental intimacy. Double whammy!

After speaking with him this morning, I'm feeling more and more like he's my personal version of heroin. I'm addicted (as is he to me, this being said in the most non conceitful way I assure you) to my significant other. I'm not codependent, which is something else entirely, but definitely feel his presence is a necessity for my world to be at peace. People say that sex isn't the most important aspect to a relationship, but it's definitely important and loses it's importance over time. Couples who have been together several decades mark the steady decline in intimacy. I am proud and happy to say that this is not the case with us. My hubby and I are more active than we were when we first got together. More so because we know each other on a different level and we're responsive to each other's needs (He loves to go down and I have no arguments. His favorite? Me licking his perineum. Talk about a great way to see a man climb up the walls!)

For anyone having struggles in their relationship or your just not "feeling the love" like you used to, evaluate your intimacy. If you can't remember the last time you were with your significant other or the intimacy has been given a specific "day" (Ugh, perish the thought!) it's time to reevaluate. Hubby and I talk all the time. What I like, what he likes and maybe what we'd like to try. Trust me, you'll feel better getting things going more often.

DIY Basement

A few years ago, we took on the industrious project of finishing our basement. It was framed and there were three completed bedrooms when we moved in, but that was it. (One of the rooms is our acting office/computer room, one is our workout room and one is a guest bedroom) Hubby's friend and others came in and put up the sheet rock for us. Later, a friend of mine at work gave us the name of someone who could mud and tape. It took them an amazingly fast two days. Next, hubby primed the walls and I helped him paint. The color is sort of an off peach (I didn't want our basement to be all dark, doom and gloom. Bright and inviting was our goal). Our neighbor, and electrician, put in our ceiling fans and canister (recessed) lighting. Lastly, hubby's friend (will call him Matt) taught hubby how to tile. Matt and hubby tiled the storage room together and hubby tiled the exit way and entryway himself. It looks terrific!

The tiling took place sometime last year and not much has gotten done since then. We've had a couple of road blocks like hubby leaving the outside faucet on, causing the basement partial flooding and crazy rain storms that did the same thing. The carpet in the computer room has been completely ripped out and replaced by a large area rug. We've also had things like getting pregnant and having babies intrude in our lives, which doesn't make working on the basement easy.

We're now ready to tackle the project again and spent last night cleaning out the storage room (which has somehow become the babe's holding pen for all of her toys and crap). Goodness! I never knew a child could have so much stuff! We separated the things to give to the donation center from the things we wanted to keep and pretty much ended up with a truckload. Hubby and Matt will take these things to the donation center next week. The next bit of the project is in my hands.

Once upon a time, we had a file cabinet for all of our medical records, tax materials, and receipts. That cabinet was damaged in one of our last apartments and was replaced by two new ones. Unfortunately, the two new ones have never been filled and all of the old files are in boxes. I will be going through those, sorting out things that are old and creating file folders to put into the cabinets. It's going to be a huge project, but I hope to get it done by next week's due date.

The goal? To have the basement mostly finished before Christmas. That way, we can move all of our current living room furniture downstairs to the basement where there is more space. The upstairs room will become a sitting room(that will be void of furniture for a bit, I think). It will be so nice to have that area done. The last project will be the third bathroom and we will take our time with that, since it is a costly and involved process.

Having watched enough DIY programs, we know that this will take the value of our home up substantially. We also know that it could hinder sales because new owners will not be able to do what they want to the basement. It's sort of a catch-22, but I'm really not worried. I think our home is lovely and has a lot to offer the large families that exist here in Utah (minivan capitol of the world). The next project? A lovely deck to host outdoor parties and barbecues. Guess I better start looking for that second job, huh?

Bring out your Inner Chef

I consider myself a decent cook, by no means miraculous, but decent. There are several dishes and desserts I like to make when the time presents itself. This is typically the time of year when time magically appears for me (and for a lot of other people). We take time off and are given days off by our jobs for the holidays, which can be a blessing or a curse for some. I take it as a blessing and use them to enjoy myself cooking, eating and socializing.

Not long ago, we had a pot-luck in the office and I made, what is now considered, my "famous" Kahlua cake. It's a recipe I found online years ago, but have since altered to my own personal tastes. It's funny because I really don't like chocolate cake (too rich), but many of my friends of the European persuasion absolutely adore it and I like it a lot myself. It sort of tastes more like a brownie than a cake. It's incredibly rich, but smooth on the palate. I present this cake and it usually disappears before the main courses. I think it's the icing. It's not a cooked icing, so the alcohol is very prominent in the taste of the cake. Granted, it's no more than you'd find in a cold syrup but for those sensitive to the stuff, it can make people who eat it very happy after a few bites.

I think that's the joy in cooking for me; seeing other people marvel over your food or ingest it with ecstasy. "This is the best I've ever tasted! I've got to have the recipe." An even more ego-stroking comment is, "I tried the recipe, but it didn't turn out like yours." Oh, I love that! The best of my recipes have alcohol, but I also make an apple crumble that my mother can't seem to get enough of. Again, it's a recipe I found online that I altered for her tastes. The first time I made it, she wanted more of the topping and asked that, when I make it again, I double the topping. So, I did. The result would put a restaurant to shame. It was divine! Top it off with a scoop of ice scream? Heaven.

Desserts are my specialty, but I can make a lot of other things. For example, there are two items my hubby can't get enough of: my fried chicken and my homemade, barbecue chicken pizza. The pizza and chicken are actually quite healthy, if you can believe that. I'll post them (eventually) on my recipezaar site soon. The chicken is fried in olive oil, instead of canola or vegetable. There are also two ingredients (tomato soup and dried salad dressing) that give the chicken a distinctive taste. After having my chicken, no other chicken will do for hubby, now. Oh, we still buy from KFC occasionally, but he'd much rather have mine.

The pizza? I grill the chicken and use fresh ingredients; chopped onions, freshly sliced mushrooms, fresh grated mozzarella cheese, and whatever his BBQ sauce de jour is, currently (it changes with the wind). He loves it! Last year, my kitchen became an assembly line when he asked that I prepare three of these: One for the night shift (his shift) at work, one for the day shift (overtime) and one for the house. They all got rave reviews. Now that I think about it, that's a lot of dang cooking. I must love him or something.

Enough food talk for now. A portion of a post I created a while back reared it's ugly head again last night. Hubby was taking the garbage out and it seems the husband of our neighbor had returned from Arizona to settle all the craziness here in Utah with his wife. I guess she's really been hitting the meth hard and got very upset when he called her on it. She started to hit him and their girls were there to witness the event (not good). He called the police, pressed charges and she was removed from the home for the entire night. He feverishly worked to get out as much of his stuff as he could, seeing that she would be allowed back in the home by 5:00pm the next day. He was telling all this to my hubby and hubby said he was like, "Yeah, I'm trying to hurry before she gets here because I really don't want to have to deal with her or have something else happen in front of the girls. Oh crap! Here she comes." She pulled up just as they were talking. Hubby excused himself and came home.

It's so sad. She was such a good mother. Hubby said that her hubby (soon to be ex) said that she's lost nearly one hundred pounds. She's all gaunt and skinny. She basically looks nothing like her former self. He (the husband) told my hubby this is the second time she's been on this stuff and each time, it's been because her meth-head mother has been around. Their house is pending sale, but he (the husband) says she's trying to pull out. It's so evil and vindictive. I hope they get things squared away over there and soon.

Naked, Naked, Naked...

One of Rn_buffon's posts got me to thinking on a somewhat philosophical level. To open, my hubby and I are fairly free with our bodies. I don't sleep in pajamas (unless I'm sick) and neither does he. When we didn't have the kids, we'd come home, get undressed and walk around in the "altogether" until we had to get dressed the next day. We've also talked about some day living somewhere with huge pane, glass windows that make the scenery your own, personal artwork. For us, this would also mean moving out into the middle of nowhere for reasons that should be pretty apparent. Thin or large, it has really made no difference to me and I'm very comfortable this way. It seems natural.

So, here's the question: What would our world, our very existence as humans be like if the serpent had never entered the garden? (assuming you believe in the Genesis creation)

Well, for one, we wouldn't know we were unclothed...at least, at first. I believe the Creator would have given Adam and Eve access to the tree of knowledge, after he felt they were ready for it. I also think they would have been given the knowledge that they lived in a clothing optional world, but that there was no shame in their bodies and being unclothed is a natural and healthy way to be. I could run off on all sorts of tangents here about our existence as it is today with technology and so forth. Would we have that, would we know what we know now, but I'll save that for another time.

Recently, Kirstie Alley appeared on the Oprah show to show off her newly slimmed body in a two piece bathing suit. I didn't see the show, but I read articles after the fact. She talked about how, as a young adult, she never felt comfortable about her body. She was so self conscious and never satisfied with it. It's the same story with so many other women, including myself. Granted, I've always been cool with being naked and at home by myself, but out and around others? Not that I was naked around others, just overly concerned about my body and its appearance in my clothes. Oh, man. I was always worried about my pooch, or my thighs, or my back (yes, my back dammit).

As I aged and became more comfortable with me, those thoughts sort of waned. I adapted my fashion to the age. I did go to high school in the 90's, after all. Man, I could work a mini dress! By college, although I knew I could look better, I was still pretty happy with where I was. It took Kirstie time (and probably some needed time in rehab) to realize her body wasn't her enemy and to embrace who she was/is. I applaud her for her bravery and for her acceptance of who she is. Jamie Lee Curtis did a sort of "embrace who you are" with her layout in More magazine. She displayed herself as she is, day-to-day and then as she is made up like a movie star. I think it all comes down to this: naked or clothed, we should learn to love ourselves for ourselves.

Irritation of the Brain

Normally, hubby comes home on Sundays from working the night shift, dresses for church and makes the journey with us back to Salt Lake. Saturday, he announced that he would probably come home and go to sleep (suspecting that things would be rowdy due to its being a Saturday night and a full moon. Yes! The old wive's tale is true). Sunday morning arrives and I'm getting the girls ready and dressed. I also put a roast in the crock pot to cook during the day so that I wouldn't have to do much in the evening in terms of cooking. Dad comes in, disrobes and hops into bed. The girls and I go to Church and have a plesant, but pretty uneventful Sunday.

Around 9:15am, I'm back on the road heading home. We get home, the girls eat and then take a bit of a nap. I spent the day watching Northern Exposure episodes, falling in and out of sleep myself. Hubby wakes on his own, so I'm all chipper and ask him if he's ready to eat. "No," he says. He's craving something sweet, so he eats a bowl of sugary cereal. He seems annoyed and I'm not sure why. I ask him a couple of questions, trying to get him to talk. He grunts the answers, but doesn't really appear to want to talk. So, I ask him: "Do you want to talk to me today?" He grunts what I think is a, "No." Well, okay. I leave the room. I decide not to pout, so I go back and get the laundry that needs to be folded. I can see him still eating his cereal, now with the tv on.

Once the babe is up, she convinces him to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas with her and she continuously comes back to ask if I'll watch it, too. I explain that I'm folding clothes (but, I'm thinking that if dad doesn't want to talk, why should I be in there anyway)? By this time, the baby is also in the room with me and, not feeling very well, is extremely needy. The babe continues to ask but she never says he's the one asking her to ask me until the last time she comes back into my room. I let her know that there's plenty of time to watch it again before Christmas and she can watch it this time with him. She seems disappointed, but I don't see her again for a while. Once I've folded the clothes, the baby gets snotty so I have to get one of the nice tissues out of the living room. Hubby starts baby talking as soon as he sees her, "Oh, so she's okay to talk to but not me?" He explains that he said that he wanted to talk to me. Really? Wouldn't you have made more of an effort to talk to me besides sending your daughter back to ask me about a movie? Whatever.

By this point, my irritation is high and I just don't want to be bothered. We spend the next several hours barely speaking. The babe ends up getting in trouble and gets restricted to her room. Hubby spends the afternoon/evening sleeping even more on the couch (normally, five hours is plenty for him. Sunday, he gets seven hours and then sleeps most of the afternoon away. Amazing!). The roast never gets eaten and I end up going to bed early enough to avoid seeing hubby off for the evening. All in all, Sunday pretty much sucked. I hope it's not an indication of the week I'm going to have. It's a short week for me, seeing that the baby's daycare is closed on Friday for Veteran's day. I'll be working a half day from home and taking a half vacation day. I was really hoping for a good week. I hope all is not lost.

Meanwhile, hubby usually calls when he gets off work. Nothing. Not a peep. I suppose he still has mucho irriation on his side as well. I could blame it on the moon or the fact that I'm supposed to start tomorrow (TOM always brings out the best in people, doesn't it?) or that Mercury is currently in retrograde but, I won't. I'll just chalk it up to, two people who have been very unhappy with a work schedule that seems to put our relationship to the test, daily. Some days, we triumph and others...well, see the post above.

All Saint's Day

"When: November 1st (http://www.holidayinsights.com/christian/saintsday.htm)

The Christian holiday of All Saint's Day honors and recognizes all of the saints of the christian church, many of which were martyrs. The church sets this day aside to celebrate over 10,000 recognized saints. Historically, All Saints Day was known as Hallomas.

Did you know? All Saints Day and All Souls Day was originally in May. They were moved to November 1st and 2and to downplay the Pagan holidays of Halloween (All Hallow's Eve) and Dia De Loss Muertos. Religious leaders felt these holidays were too popular at the time to ban outright. But, if moved they christian holidays to this time periods, the pagan holidays would slowly die away......."

I guess they didn't. These holidays are just as popular as ever and boy did we celebrate in the festivities, yesterday. Candy, cakes and cookies galore! (so yesterday, I allowed myself to partake, and today I'm feeling it...boy, am I feeling it). Probably not in the way you would think. We had lots of chilis and chowders. Chilis have beans. Then, I went home and had really cheesy pizza (did I mention that I'm lactose intolerant?). All the lactaid in the world couldn't save my stomach last night, this morning and again this morning. Granted, the fiber is great for you and I truly didn't eat as many sweets as I could have, but man. There should be a cut-off number of beans that is widely known so that you don't end up living in the bathroom for the entire night. Sorry, I know...too much information.

We did have a good time, though and we've got some pretty talented chefs around here. The costumes were creative, as usual. Someone was a pretty involved dark angel, there were four or five Alice in Wonderland characters, all from the mad hatter's party, I myself was a prom queen--complete with tiara and corsage.

Once I got home, dad was getting the babe prepped for trick or treating, layering her clothes underneath her costume. For the first time in years it wasn't raining, but it was super cold (below freezing). One of the homes was dispensing cider and allowing the kids to make cotton candy. Wow! I guess we are getting more trusting. The babe came home with freshly made cotton candy, a cauldron full of candy (which she kept calling her "witches brew") and a steaming cup of cider. She was frozen, but happy. We then ate our pizza and crashed for the evening. I got seven hours of sleep and I'm feeling fine (no sugar hang over for me, thank you).

So, I'm pretty much babbling now. Enjoy All Saint's Day and the knowledge that we get to partake in even more holidays very soon.

Trying to Get Back Into it...Again

We had a health fair here in our offices last week and part of what came out of it was a free, pilates session at the gym connected to our building. I should have known...there is no such thing as free. I scheduled my session and thought, "Well, at least I'll get a look at the table and see if it's something I might like to try." So, I get back to the gym and listen to a personal trainer tell me about things I already know. Then, I answer all of her questions with all of my standard, wife-of-a-personal-trainer answers. She's blown away, but then realizes that, "Of course, she would know the answers to these questions." She weighs me, takes a body fat analysis and takes all sorts of measurements, then we discuss goals. At the end, she presents me with the numbers and costs of all of their training plan options. Crap! A sales pitch!

So, I came back to my office and informed my coworker to just go ahead and cancel her freebie, since it's just going to be a sales pitch anyway (despite the "test" we took, everyone who attended the fair probably got a free training session) . Why, bother. I didn't even get to see the pilates table! Oh, well. At least now I know how large I really am.

I was off to a good start last week and the week before (even though I did not document it on Road to Fabulous). I worked out three maybe four times a week, then we went on our adventure to Vegas. I've been trying to get back to a regular schedule...hoping that I can do that and be back at the workouts next week. Hubby called last night and asked if we could do some of our workouts together. I know what it's going to take for me, now. I just need to put all of this in his hands. I have faith that he can manage my personal training better than anyone else because, 1. He knows how psychotic my schedule is right now and, 2. He knows me better than anyone else. It's so time to get serious! I just don't want to shop for bigger clothes...I can't!

When he calls again, I'll just go ahead and tell him. Now that I think about it, when I was doing so well with my circuit training and workouts at the gym, it was because of a plan he came up with, not me. I just managed my diet on my own. Ha! By George, I think I've got it! (Isn't it weird when people type during a light-bulb moment?)

People are starting to sign up for the pot-luck we're having next Tuesday. I'm glad because folks around here are notorious for waiting till the last minute. Our newest department add-on seems freaked out about bringing a dish or dressing up. I showed him slide shows of our previous Halloween festivities and told him that we have a great time around here. I hope we don't come across as a bunch of nuts to him, but hey...you have to work in the same building day after day after day, why not have one day where things are a little unusual?

It's been a pretty good day, overall. I got up and worked then hubby called. We talked about how horny we were. Sad, I know. The next thing I know, I hear the garage door opening. Music to my ears! He shaved, showered and pleasured his wife, "It's not about me," he said. Damn, that's love.

Halloween Memories

I was thinking about past Halloweens, which I tend to do this time of the year. Hubby and I were talking about our fond memories of door-to-door treats and mountains of goodies. We also discussed how we both remembered the time when you could get hot cider, cupcakes and popcorn balls from neighbors without the worry of poisioning or hypodermic needles. Halloween brings up so many wonderful memories (as I've said, I had a rockin' childhood) of school, friends and amazing costumes. We had a Halloween parade every year at my school in California. I've been a witch, a fairy, a blue bird, Wonder Woman (of course) and a gypsy as a child. The teen years were pretty thin (I ended up hosting my own, house parties towards the end, just to get in a little horror movie, junk food and costume time).

As an adult, I think I've gone through the gambit! A Goddess, an 80's chick, a Rivendell elf, Foxy Brown, and Lilly Munster. This year, will prove to be just as fun (if I can get into my costume. It's sort of debatable right now. I'd better try it on this weekend, then run out and get a girdle if things prove troublesome). I'm looking forward to our parties and activities around here for that day. It sort of sucks that it falls on a Tuesday. I always feel like a zombie (no pun intended) the day after, not from alcohol or anything, just from the rev of adrenaline that seems to happen during the day. Everyone's walking around laughing, getting into character and eating way too much candy.

So, my fondest Halloween memories are many but I do have a great memory of trick-or-treating. I was about six or seven and my friend (we'll call her Tracey) invited me to her house to trick-or-treat and to their halloween party. There were other girls from my school who went as well (and I remember being happy that they were all girls I liked). We dressed at her house and she and her sister ended up putting me in 2 inch pumps. I was a clown, so the need for pumps was a little strange. Two of the girls went as Madonna and one as Cindy Lauper. Hey, it was the age and I remember thinking they looked really good.

We headed out, collecting candy from multiple houses...she lived in Hollywood somewhere, so it was good candy, not the $.99 cent kind that has no flavor and gets stuck in your teeth. I remember going to one particular house that must have been a mansion! The lady was beautiful and gracious, requesting that we take as much as we wanted from her huge caldron of mega-sized candy bars. Later, we were chased by teenagers who thought it would be great to through eggs at the younger kids trick-or-treating. We all got smashed, but not too bad. Tracey's mother cleaned us all up after wards, then we ate whatever goodies she'd made. It was a great night.

Halloween was also the night I met a guy that I saw pretty seriously for a while, we'll call him Daniel. He was the roommate of my girlfriend's boyfriend. (Did you get that ?) We were juniors in high school, while they were freshmen in college. Major league! I had just come home from work (I was a cat that year - leotard, tights, ears, tail and long satin gloves). I was working it...damn, was I brave. Many of my guests had already arrived, by the time I'd made it home. My mother had agreed to a coed party with all the guys needing to vacate by 3:00am. We were about half and half with the boy to girl ratio. When my girlfriend's (we'll call her Crystal) boyfriend arrived with his roommate, I was blown away. Super fine and totally unaware of it. We sat next to each other, watching one movie or another when he took my hand and compared it to his. We had the same sized hands. Oh, I was enchanted with him.

As far as Halloween as an adult, it's been lots of fun too. Dressing up my daughter and watching her parade around as her favorite character/person/animal for a day, is a treat in and of itself. We always have pizza on Halloween night and when she returns from trick-or-treating, we both give out candy to all the trick-or-treaters who visit our door. Although the baby won't have a clue what's going on, she'll certainly be adorable in big sister's, hand-me-down Tigger costume.

Weekend Excursion

My last post was what I was working on last Thursday and was interrupted by time. I did get my hair braided and it's lovely. Did I mention that my hubby asked me to take Friday, October 20th off a few weeks ago? I did and had no idea what was up, until I got home from my hair appointment. The dog was gone (clue 1) and he asked me to pack a suitcase for the girls (clue 2). That evening, as we lay in bed snuggling, he told me that we would be gone until Sunday afternoon. Still, no idea as to what lay ahead.

The next morning, we took our eldest to school and dropped my car of at the shop to get my tune up and fuel system tune up. Then, off to my mother's to drop off our baby. Drop off the baby?! My mother took the day off to take care of her, at my hubby's request. Amaing! I was completely awestruck. Normally, you have to book an appointment with her, just for the girls to have a play date. The next stop was hubby's bank for quick cash then, off we went on the open road. We talked for hours and hung out like we did when we used to date. It was fantastic! We ended up in...

LAS VEGAS!!

The Orleans was our place of refuge. What a beautiful hotel! Of course, I always forget that I'm going to smell like a smokestack after walking through a casino. Ugh! The room was large with a fabulous, king-sized bed. That Friday, we went to the outlet stores and did a bit of shopping. Afterwards, we grabbed something to eat then back to the hotel. Before going down to the casino, hubby had his wicked way.

We walked around the pit area to get better aquainted with what the hotel had to offer. Several eateries (including our favorite, the French Market Buffet), three bars, two lounge areas, a bowling alley (75 lanes), a huge arcade and a movie theater. The color scheme was inviting and fun, without being tacky and univiting. It was fabulous! We left the hotel briefly and visited the Albertsons down the road where we found liquor at discount prices. Sweet! We stocked up (damn you Utah state liquor stores!) Back to the hotel after our little tour, jaunt to the grocers and this time, I had my wicked way with hubby.

Saturday morning, we dined at the French Market buffet and remembered why we loved it so much. It was awesome! Then, off to the Ross Dress for Less for more shopping. We picked up several Christmas items for the girls and other family members. Afterwards, around the corner to the Stratosphere. Hubby buys the Xtreme pass which gives us access to everything in the tower and an unlimited ride pass. Ohmigosh! Those were the scariest rides I've ever been on (insert scary ride pictures/Insanity, Xscream and Big shot). We took picture of me looking like I was about to meet my maker. You know, I'm as adventurous as the next person and I love thrill rides, but this took things to a whole new level. You're 900 feet above the city just hanging there or spinning or dropping. It's so intense! I could only manage one ride each, hubby was off and going for a second ride. I was supportive from a distance.

Next, down Sahara and over to Maryland Parkway. I'm in Vegas, so I gotta buy hair. Seems strange, I know but there aren't a lot of resources here in Utah. Usually, I pay $2.00 or more per bag of pre-braided hair for the babe. In Vegas, it's half that. We stocked up then off to Popeyes for lunch, which unfortunately wasn't very good. Back to the outlet stores (hubby needed dress shirts for church) where we shopped for a few hours. In 'n Out for dinner! Can't go to Nevada or California without a stop there. At the hotel, we gambled a bit on the Star Wars slot machine, where I won about fifty bucks and hubby about sixty. I continually expressed my thanks and love for his planning prowess and ability to keep it secret from me. It was the best weekend I've had in years!

By Saturday evening, we were missing our girls and looked forward to the return home to see them. Even though we missed them, this did not stop us from drinking ourselves into a stupor and then knocking wholes in the wall (or at least, that's what it sounded like). I guess our neighbors got an ear-full. With kids in the house, noise levels must be maintained. Not so when you're away and no one knows who you are.

Sunday, we made our way home, picked up our girls and relaxed for the weekend. I will never forget this kindest of gestures, not just because hubby gave me the "skys the limit" okay, but because he recognized how tired I was and burned out, then did something about it. I'll always be grateful for that. Now, it's back to reality.