Actually, we’re ALL ready for vacation. And it’s coming up fast.
It’s all I can think about. It’s all I can DREAM about. In fact, I had so much trouble turning OFF my thoughts the other night that I had to actually get up and jump on Twitter to distract me.
I was out cold 45 minutes later. 🙂
He wore this Hawaiian shirt to work Friday (casual Fridays). I know this doesn’t exactly seem like a big deal to most of you, but this man of mine – well, he didn’t start wearing prints, of any kind, until just a few short years ago. He’s really stepping outside his comfort box wearing this shirt.
And I’m so proud he has four more shirts like this in his closet. He’s come so far. *smile*
He plans on wearing these Hawaiian shirts on our vacation, because really, there’s never a more perfect time to wear Hawaiian shirts.
Oh beautiful vacation, we can not wait to see you up close and personal. I’m literally counting the days.
For now, we’re busy entertaining two of my nephews today. I plan on working out, Kevin plans on having band practice and the boys plan on having some fun with their cousins.
Not just good DADS, but good MEN, too! What exactly is Dad Blogs?
Dad Blogs is a site based on the vision of two dads with one goal in mind — to make the internet a better place for Dad Bloggers. Dad Blogs was born out of necessity. Both of the creators of DB were tired of browsing through parenting blogs and being assaulted with page after page of feminine ad campaigns and badges for mom blogging networks without ever seeing a male alternative.
Actually, I had assumed (because I just now read the about page – I’m a dweeb like that) that the Dad Blogs’ community was all about edifying dads in general.
But building a community of Dad bloggers is good, too. 🙂
So, now I’m confused. Is it okay to brag about the dads in my life? I hope so, because that’s what I’m going to do.
(I’m a bit of a rebel like that. *smile*)
I think men get a bad rap. And I think dads get an even worse rap.
And by bad rap, I mean this whole crazy notion that it’s not necessary to have a man in one’s life in order to have children.
Perhaps it’s not necessary in the mother’s life, but it sure as hell is necessary in the child’s life.
I can’t tell you how sick and tired I am of this attitude, people.
Now I’m talking about normal situations – where the woman has chosen to have the baby without involving the father. Or has chosen to exclude the father in someway, whether that’s a physical exclusion or an emotional exclusion. I’m not talking about situations where the father is abusive or detrimental to the overall family unit. Or where the father has decided to reject the mother/child. (His loss)
That’s an entirely different ballgame.
No, I’m talking about the general assumption that fathers are somehow an afterthought — that they don’t really matter in the overall scheme of things. As long as the WOMAN is fulfilled and satisfied, then screw the dads. And the kids? Will be fiiiine. Don’t worry about them.
That ideology makes me grind my teeth in irritation.
Fathers are important to children. They bring insight, balance and a unique perspective that is necessary for children to absorb. It’s taken me years of reconditioning my way of thinking to believe that, but after 19 years of marriage and two boys later, I’m convinced my life, and my boys’ lives, would not be what they are today if Kevin hadn’t been in the picture.
And he nearly wasn’t. But that’s a story that must never be told.
There I go, off on a tangent again. Can you tell the topics I’m passionate about? I apologize if this seems all “in your face”, but there are just some things that I think need to be said.
Let me give you an example of how important Kevin is to my boys and how NOT having him around would have changed their lives – and not for the better.
Grade cards came in the mail yesterday.
Kevin had come home for lunch (he’s so good about eating leftovers for lunch everyday – me? Not so much. But then again, I rarely eat that much for lunch anyway) when he handed me two envelopes addressed to the boys.
(I have no idea why he does this – I guess because anything to do with the kids is somehow my responsibility. Wait, that bit of sarcasm was unfair. If he had kept, and opened, the envelopes without telling me first, I probably would have gotten annoyed with him. The man can’t win. See how difficult we are to get along with sometimes, ladies?)
I held my breath and opened them.
I don’t know why I always get so nervous whenever I take a peek at the boys’ grades. The school district has this nifty (and totally cool, I might add!) online database where I can access my sons’ grades and assignments at any time so there is rarely an unpleasant surprise when it comes to grades anymore. But still … I’ve lived through too many last-minute disasters to completely relax, I suppose.
No surprises. Well, there were a few classes that I wasn’t sure how they did on their finals, but the overall results? Not bad. They could have done better, but what kind of mom would I be if I didn’t feel the urge to push them juuuuust a bit more?
But considering they handled their classes, on their own and with virtually no help from us, is saying quite a bit.
They are so much smarter than I give them credit for.
There is one exception to this subject praise, though; Math.
The boys have had to have help with Math since 1st grade – when they were first introduced to Calculus.
I kid. But not by much.
And that’s always been Kevin’s department because when God handed out the ability to analyze equations and solve for X – I was too busy curling my hair to have received it.
In short – I. Am. TERRIBLE. At. Math.
Go ahead, tease me. My guys do. And they are fully justified.
I can honestly say, and with absolute certainty, that if Kevin hadn’t been around to help these boys with their math over the years, my children would have ended up on the IEP program.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I know, in my heart, I would have helped put them in that situation simply because I lack the intelligence to help them in this one area.
But being thankful that Kevin was around to help with math goes WAY beyond actually working the problems — I’m grateful that he taught them patience, perseverance and the importance of applying certain applications to real-life scenarios.
So those decent grades in math? The ones they earned all by their lonesome with only minimal help from dad this year? Is largely due to the lessons that Kevin taught them.
It all goes back to the different perspective thing I wrote about earlier.
Kevin is such a great father, in so many ways – both large and small – that I simply can not imagine, I cannot fathom, what sort of life the boys would have had without him in their lives.
You should have known. You should have known that putting any kind of restrictions on me would backfire – pronto.
Here I was, consistently writing and posting, day-in, day-out, sometimes twice, even THREE times a day, just cranking out the word count when BAM – I had to go and put a restriction on myself by posting that dad-blasted 1,000 words a day button in the sidebar.
Now, I feel OBLIGATED to write 1,000 words a day and guess what?! I’m completely blank. Not one word, not one letter, not even a DOT of an idea is forming in my head.
Well, this sucks rocks.
Tough. I will trudge forward. I am a professional (it says so, right here on this fancy piece of paper) and I WILL persevere. I will do what any professional does when he/she gets too overwhelmed with self-imposed responsibilities – I will ignore you.
Button? What button?
Anyway …
I had lunch with Kevin yesterday. I love going to lunch with him. It gets me out of the house. It’s our private time.
And I get to bask in his dressed-up-professional-handsome glory.
*sigh* I miss dressing up to go to work every day.
We ate at Qdoba. I had my usual grilled veggie burrito (my favorite! I’d marry it if I wasn’t already married!) and he had his usual … er … burrito (damn, the name escapes me right this minute).
He talked about work. I listened. There could be some big-time changes for him in his professional life and I’m not sure how I feel about that. On one hand – wow. The responsibility. On the other hand – wow. The responsibility.
Of course, if I wasn’t aware that I had the Internet looking over my shoulder, reading this entry, then I might be able to go into details, but suffice it to say – it’s a good thing we are people who can roll with the punches.
Just sayin’.
We talked about our cruise. Duh. It’s coming up fast and we’re really excited. The kids are excited – I think. It’s hard to tell what is up with them right now seeing as how they’ve turned into these video game/computer zombies. They have been glued to their seats ever since school got out and it’s really starting to bother me. Do they really not have any other interest other than video games/computer?
And why does that bother me SO much? After all, they are only living by my example considering I’m on my computer so much of the day blogging, writing and oh yeah, working.
*sigh* Perhaps I’m uncomfortable with them being on their games/computers so much because when I look at them, I’m really looking at an aspect of myself and I’m thinking I’m not liking that aspect very much?
I don’t know. That’s too deep for me right now. I don’t want to think about it.
So, the cruise thing. Yeah, we’re excited. And I think it’s affecting Kevin’s attitude because he’s just been so … on edge lately. I think it’s largely due to the fact that he knows he’s about to have an entire week off, in the sun and fun and that food will be available to him 24/7 (food is always SUCH a big deal when we go on vacation. Not to me, but when you have three boys …)
I remember I always used to sort of hate vacations when I was working – the anticipation of going just threw me off rhythm for weeks beforehand and then I had such a sucky attitude for a few weeks afterward because HELLO!? Who wants to come back to work after having so much fun WITHOUT it?
So yeah, I can understand his attitude and I’m trying to adjust by walking on eggshells.
And we BOTH know how much I hate walking on eggshells. Been there, done that – caused major problems.
After lunch, I went shopping.
It was an accident, quite frankly. I had just dropped him back off at work and I was thinking about the cruise when I realized, with a jolt of surprise, that I only had a short time left before we had to leave and *gasp*, I didn’t have anything to wear for the formal nights!!
I believe I mentioned, (didn’t I?) that the only party dresses I own are the crushed black velvet kind?
Right. Think Elvis painting.
They’re terribly dated, immature and quite hideous, now that I think about them.
So, um, yeah, picture this – a 43-year old woman walking in with her dashingly handsome husband and sons dressed to the nines in their dress slacks and ties and me – a walking Elvis painting.
Gag me with a spoon.
I’m sure I would have been part of many funny, memorable vacation moments for a lot of folks.
So yeah, I panicked. I dropped by Dillards – just to take a quick look.
I should have known it would be an expensive quick look.
I was impressed by the sheer number of dresses to look through. They had devoted an entire corner of the store to party dresses so right off the bat, I became dizzy. Where do I even start?!
So, I did what I always do when I go shopping, I started with the mannequins. I figure if the mannequins have on something that I like, then chances are, the surrounding clothes might be a good place to start.
And I wasn’t disappointed.
I tried on several dresses and quite frankly, I was very pleased that I fit into my size so comfortably. All of the working out had definitely paid off. Granted, I hadn’t actually lost a size, but at least the size I was comfortable wearing was loose on me – and that’s all I had really been going for anyway.
I knew, as soon as I tried it on, it was THE ONE. It fit perfectly. And it was classy, yet flirty. And I felt pretty in it. And I LOVED the cowl back – so sexy.
I bought it.
I couldn’t remember if our cruise had one or two formal nights, so I came home, looked it up on their website – two formal nights.
Crap. Would it be tacky to wear the same dress again?
I went back out to Macy’s to see what they had.
I was disappointed as their selection wasn’t NEARLY as grand as Dillards, but I did happen to find another dress, totally NOT me but one I liked instantly.
Isn’t that strange?
Well here, I took a picture of them.
The black one has a lace bodice and a cowl back:
Isn’t that sexy?!
And I know, the flowery one – totally not me. But it’s linen and I thought the black strip on the bodice and skirt made it seem more dressy and I really wanted something cruise-y feeling, hence the tropical flair.
When I showed Kevin, he wasn’t all that enthused. But I was elated, I felt comfortable with my selections (well, I am still wondering a bit about the flowery one) and he totally popped my bubble by taking a look at the size.
WTF?
That made me mad. What difference does it make what size it is?! I’m an Amazon woman – get over it!!
I don’t know why he insists on making me out to be this petite woman – it will never happen. It’s physically impossible.
But after cooling my heels for a bit, I started thinking about it. I think he was just curious because he wanted to know my size and weight. After all, my size and weight are more closely guarded than state secrets.
(Which, now that I think about it, aren’t really all that closely guarded anymore, are they).
I modeled them for him and when he saw them on me, I think he actually liked them a bit more. I honestly think one of the biggest reasons he wasn’t too enthusiastic about my dresses was because I had to spend money in order to buy them.
And ya’ll KNOW me, I don’t LIKE spending money either, but when it comes time to enter that dining room, and he sees how all of the other women put me to shame on what they’re wearing and that I will at least look halfway decent, I think he’ll get over the sticker shock.
I do feel guilty though. And trust me when I say, I’ll wear these dresses every chance I get and will likely not buy anything else like this for another ten years (which was the last time I bought any sort of party dress).
Now … to find some dress slacks for the boys …
(UPDATE: I returned the flowery dress. I just didn’t think it was formal enough. So now … I’m on the hunt for another formal dress. Aargh!)
I wasn’t going to post today, but then I saw that funky 1,000 words a day button in the sidebar and started feeling guilty so …
Here goes another 1,000 975 words.
The only time I left the house yesterday was to take Dude to his dentist appointment. Well actually, Dude DROVE us to his dentist’s office. When I told him he would be driving, he huffed and rolled his eyes like I was asking him to go out and dig up our backyard so I could plant a garden or something. Yeah, driving yourself around is SUCH an inconvenience, wise guy.
(*snort* And as if I WOULD plant a garden. I’m a wussy girl when it comes to getting my hands dirty).
I have to say, I’m getting pretty sick and tired of Dude acting like driving is the last thing he wants to do. Granted, I GET the fact that driving is not exactly high priority for him right now, but guess what DUDE, it’s called life and you’ll participate in it whether you like it or not.
I had to get that off my chest.
So, Dude drove us to the dentist’s office. And he was pretty sloppy about it. I don’t know if it was because he just didn’t want to or if just wasn’t paying attention or what, but seriously, his turns were so jerky I’m surprised my head is still attached to my shoulders.
And I know he can do better because when we drove to Willard to see his cousins and Jazz was in the back seat, he drove perfectly. He anticipated traffic, his turns were smooth, his stops were precise, but not jerky – he did great.
And I’m assuming he did so well because he had Jazz in the car with him.
Apparently, being a good driver is not as important when plain old MOM is in the car. Pfft.
We get to the dentist office early, he signs in and they call him back within five minutes. As I’m sitting there, flipping through an old something-something magazine (I can’t remember the name of it) and reading about *Jon and Kate, I’m thinking to myself:
Now how do I tell these people that enough is enough and it’s time to remove Dude’s braces? It’ll be three years in August and when we started this whole process we were under the understanding that it would take no more than 30 months, tops. I don’t want the kid to start his junior year in high school with braces. Take them off already!
So there I am, stewing over my fumes while waiting for Dude to get done and I’m still mentally working the problem over in my mind, turning it every which way, trying on different scenarios, offering various options (picture solving a Rubic’s cube and that was the state of my mind at the time), when Dude comes walking out.
And he’s smiling.
Well, that knocks me back a Rubic’s turn or two. Dude is 16 going on six (meaning he’s still pretty immature) – he never smiles unless he’s trying to butter me up for something or he gets a high score in one of the endless games he takes way too seriously.
I’m instantly suspicious.
And hopeful.
I put down the magazine and meet him at the front desk. The dental assistant who worked on him is standing by and I don’t even give her a chance to intimidate me (as I’ve done in the past by allowing them to talk and never asking my own questions) before I jump in with a firm smile and a “So, what’s the deal?”
I’m afraid I was so determined to get a definitive date out of them as to when we could expect to get Dude’s braces off that I might have been a little … pushy abrupt.
The dental assistant looked nervous (I tend to intimidate people – sorry) before offering a soft smile and a look at Dude.
“Good news!”
I immediately relaxed.
“He needs to wear the bands for five more weeks and then come in for an impression.”
I must have looked confused.
“For his retainer. You know about the permanent bottom retainer?”
I nodded, too stunned to actually see the light at the end of the tunnel to do more than that.
“And then, two weeks later, he’ll get his braces off!”
“Hallelujah!” I shouted at the top of my voice and did a happy jig right in the middle of the lobby.
Oh wait, that’s what I WANTED to do. Instead, I simply turned to Dude and gave him a big smile and a wink.
He smiled back.
My heart swelled and pressed against my breast bone.
So, dates:
July 14th – impressions (Poor kid, he’s got to have a whole mouthful of gummy clay stuffed into his mouth).
July 30th – BRACES COME OFF!!
At least, that’s the plan right now. If they change it, believe you me, not only will YOU hear about, but so will the dentist.
Okay, that sounded a little bitchy and I can assure you, I’m not really like that in real life but dang it, it sounded good, didn’t it?
This is off-topic, sort of, but periodically, Kevin spends his weekends going through old home movies and digitizing the best parts (I hadn’t realized how many HOURS I used to spend taping the boys when they were little. I swear, I have entire eight-hour tapes of them simply being babies – you know, waving their chubby arms and legs, cooing and blowing spit bubbles. I love the tapes, but the sheer mind-numbing inaction drives Kevin bonkers. I don’t know, I was just so FASCINATED by them. I mean, I pushed these little creatures out into the world!!!!!).
Anyway, I thought this video sort of went along with Dude’s teeth drama. In this video, please note how Dude’s new tooth was coming in behind all of his other teeth. And that’s because his lower jaw was very narrow and he simply didn’t have enough room for all of his teeth.
I have the same problem.
So, we took him into the same orthodontist when he was in 3rd grade to have braces put on and his lower jaw expanded (they put some sort of contraption in that I had to crank three times a day so that it literally pushed his teeth outward. Yeah, it was as much fun as it sounds.)
He had his braces removed in 4th grade to allow for the rest of his baby teeth to fall out. When his two upper eye teeth grew in, they grew in too high so he looked like an over-eager vampire on the prowl.
That was stage one – to make ROOM for all of his teeth. We’re ending stage two now.
Hence, the reason he had braces put back on in 7th grade.
My family didn’t exactly agree with my (and I say “my” because even Kevin wasn’t entirely sure he agreed ) decision to put braces on Dude in 3rd grade. But I’m quite convinced it was the right thing to do because if we hadn’t, chances were that all of his permanent teeth would have grown in at all sorts of odd angles because there wouldn’t have been room for them and I’m sure when he finally had to have braces it would have been a much bigger, and longer, process.
So, in a nutshell, I’m trying to say the kid is SICK TO DEATH of braces.
But man, his teeth are going to be nice.
I would also like to apologize for the fact that we paid the kids $5 bucks for every tooth they left under their pillow.
I know. What the hell were we thinking?! But in my defense, all I can say is, we were so excited about them losing their first teeth that we got carried away, but that it was too late, we had already set a precedence for future teeth.
Learn from my mistakes, people.
And Jazz? Is so cute I just want to eat him up. I wish I had taken the time to really appreciate their cute factor when they were that little.
*The Jon and Kate thing. I was going to write a post about how I think people are being way too harsh on them when I happened across this post from Temporarily Me Dot Com and well, she says it so much better than I ever could.
I’d like to say though, I agree with her assessment – we’re ALL Jon and Kate to some degree.
Mentally, I’m in this picture. I’ve been so distracted lately. All I can think about is this upcoming cruise and I’m just so excited to take the boys this go-around (Kevin and I went on a cruise, by ourselves, for our tenth anniversary nine years ago). I can’t wait to introduce them to so many different experiences.
I have a long to-do list, that I plan on blasting to bits in the next 17 days (17 days?!). I mainly need to shop for clothing for the boys. They have both outgrown their shorts, don’t have sandals and will need some dress-up clothes for formal nights. I’m not exactly looking forward to taking them clothes shopping, but I’ve put it off long enough – the kids simply don’t have anything that will fit them.
I’m also feeling pretty guilty about taking this cruise. It looks like most people are staying home this summer. I know times are tough and I certainly don’t want to rub this vacation in anyone’s nose, but at the same time, I don’t want my guilty conscience to cast a shadow on a potentially great family vacation, either.
Emotionally, I’m in a strange place.
This past week has been …. draining. I can’t believe it’s only Wednesday, I feel like I’ve lived two weeks in only a handful of days.
Kevin took a sick day today. This is his third sick day that he’s taken in the past six years. The fact that he caved and actually TOOK a sick day is enough to make me worry.
The man simply doesn’t succumb to sickness very often.
In fact, hate us if you will, but we’re just not a family that gets sick very often. Oh sure, we have the occasional running nose or cough, but overall, we just don’t get sick.
Kevin has been down, flat on his back, since yesterday morning. It all started about 7:00 a.m. I was working on some school websites when I hear this croaky, little voice call out to me,
“Karen, come here.”
“What?” I said, confused as to who was calling me because I wasn’t familiar with the voice.
“Come here.”
It was Kevin. And he sounded terrible. I walked back to our bedroom and he’s slowly lowering himself back to the mattress. He’s moving like an old man and his skin is really red – like sunburned red.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, a finger of alarm worming it’s way down my throat.
“I can’t walk,” he says and collapses back onto the bed.
“What do mean, ‘you can’t walk’?”
He doesn’t answer my question and instead asks for a thermometer. I fetch it for him and while he’s shaking it down, I put my hand on his head.
He doesn’t feel hot, but he looks terrible.
“What’s wrong?” I ask again.
“I don’t know. My whole body aches and I can’t walk.” He sounds worried, which makes ME worry. This man doesn’t make a big deal out of anything.
He did end up having a 100.5 fever, so after placing another blanket on him (he was trembling), I fetched some ibuprofen to help with his muscle aches and put a damp washcloth on his forehead.
And that’s what I ended up doing for him all day long. I alternated between giving him Tylenol, food, blankets, a fan, and cool compresses.
He was flat on his back all day long. And he slept for most of the day.
I told the boys to stay away from him. But in the back of my mind I’m thinking, “WHY haven’t I been sick?” We were, uh, intimate Sunday night and then this sickness sucker punched him Monday – if he had been carrying some sort of germ, shouldn’t I have had it, too?
And save for a little soreness in my hips/back and a scratchy throat, I’ve been fine. Of course, I’ve been ODing on vitamin C and popping Zicams like candy, but still.
I’ll be honest, I was a little scared for him. And I’m still pretty worried today. Though he’s feeling better and he can walk, he’s pretty sore and really tired. Whatever this was, just zapped the energy right out of him.
I offered to take him to the clinic, but he didn’t want to. He thinks it’s just some sort of flu bug and since he already feels so much better today (he actually had enough energy to take a shower, but he’s back in bed now), he really doesn’t think it’s necessary to go see a doctor when all he’s going to tell him is go back to bed and drink lots of fluids.
Which he’s doing.
This whole sickness thing threw me for a loop. I found myself … not knowing what to do. And if you know me at all, not knowing what to do or how to handle a situation makes me cranky. I don’t like feeling lost and helpless – at all.
But I was fine. I kept my cool and played nurse to him all day yesterday. The only time I lost it and snapped at him was when the mole guy called to say he was on his way over. Since there was no way he could talk to the guy, that left me. And I had no idea what I was doing, or what was going on.
Hell, I didn’t even think having this mole guy come over was even necessary. (The guy charges a rather large amount to retain his services for six months and then it’s an additional $50 for each mole he catches. And judging by the state of our lawn, we have several generations of moles living on our property).
So, I got cranky. I couldn’t understand why he just didn’t reschedule the guy some other time when he could talk to him.
But this is Kevin we’re talking about here, and he likes to get things done, and once he has his mind made up, there’s no turning back.
So, I dealt with the guy (who was really nice, by the way. And when I watched his 20-month old son waddle around our yard “helping” him, well, my irritation evaporated).
But I was disgusted with myself. What sort of wife gets cranky with her husband when he’s OBVIOUSLY sick and can’t even walk?!
I seriously have some issues to work out – like my selfish, self-centered tendencies are two that come to mind.
We all know about my many faults, so let’s move on ….
The last day of school is today. Finally. I was beginning to think it would NEVER get here.
Both Dude and Jazz have been asked to parties tonight. Dude’s going to a sleep-over and Jazz has a mixed gender party at a subdivision pavilion. (Which might get rained out, boo!)
I can’t believe another year has passed …. blahblahblah. I get impatient whenever I read posts that lament on the passing of time, so I won’t bore you with the same ole, same ole, but suffice it to say, BOTH of my boys will be in high school next year and I’m feeling … torn. I think I’m mostly relieved that they’ll be together and can look out for each other. I’m hoping Jazz’s social butterfly personality rubs off on Dude and he gets involved in something next year. We’ll see.
I’m looking at this summer being the last real “fun” summer for them. Next summer, Dude will get a job and Jazz will be busy with summer school and band. I also plan on working by then, so it’ll be a challenge to schedule family time/vacation next year.
In addition, Dude will be a junior next year which means it’s time to start getting serious about looking at college, scholarships and taking the ACT test (for the first time). Though a big part of me is sad that the boys are no longer, well, BOYS, I think I’m more excited about the men they are becoming.
They will be released two hours early today. I plan on taking them out for Subway sandwiches and then ice cream; I’m looking forward to wrapping up their 10th and 8th grade years with them.
You can try it out for 14 days, for free, if you wish, and then it only costs a measly $1.99 every MONTH. That’s 30 plus days of scintillating articles for just pennies a day.
I know, what a deal, right??
And the best part?? You can take me with you wherever you go! You don’t even have to be in a WiFi hot spot to read my blog because Kindle runs on whispernet – which is the same technology that your cell phone uses.
Though I’m THRILLED that Amazon has started this program of subscribing to blogs on the Kindle, I’m a little … intimidated. It’s one thing to write for ME and to goof off and be silly, but it’s quite ANOTHER thing entirely whenever people are PAYING to read it.
*gulp* I hope I don’t disappoint anyone.
But it also motivates me to do more creative writing if only to provide a little spice for you, dear readers. 😉
Anyway, if you’ve subscribed MUAH! I love ya. If you’re thinking about it, MUAH! I love ya.
I saw this video on Dr. Laura’s YouTube channel and thought it would be a fun, and cute, segway to a recap post for the 10-day Love Dare “workshop” I hosted this past week.
(By the way, NEVER stop flirting. Seriously. It’s fun and puts a creative and exciting spark in your marriage).
In case you’re just tuning in, the 10-day Love Dare challenge was all about DARING YOU to make your marriage stronger. I personally believe that too many people (mainly women) have been brainwashed into believing that marriage is all about THEM and about what THEY want and need from a relationship when in fact, it’s not.
At all.
It’s about co-existing with another human being and learning to adapt and change to various circumstances over the years. It’s about training yourself to LIVE love, not just FEEL love.
Can you honestly say you’re the same person you were when you got married? Can you honestly say your spouse is?
I’m betting – no.
Anyway, if you’re interested in reading more about the challenge, and my experiences with the challenge, you can click on the links below.
It was a lot of work writing all of that, and it’s even more work LIVING it. Having a perfect marriage is not realistic, but a happy marriage is certainly possible – and it all starts with YOU.
It’s a robin’s nest tucked into the crook of our rain gutter.
We keep the shade closed because every time we walk by the window we give the momma bird a tiny heart attack and she flies off leaving the eggs exposed and vulnerable.
We usually have a new bird family move in this time every year. They love our rain gutter because it’s a perfect place to build a nest. It’s up against the house so they have protection from predators, and it’s under the eaves so they have protection from the elements.
After the eggs hatch, the daddy bird usually makes an appearance, bringing worms and other goodies for his young-uns.
We check the progress of the birds every day until one day, they’re gone.
That’s when we remove the nest to make room for the next tenant.
It’s sort of fun hosting our bird families every year.
I’m thinking the man is ready for vacation.
Dear Diary:
Isn’t that sexy?! 
Write From Karen 