What Would You Say About Your Husband in a Book?

February 24, 2014

I have often accused my husband of Party Sabotage. It comes up every time we have people over, whether it’s just a few friends or a group of 30 for Christmas.

I don’t know if it’s a Mars/Venus thing, or if we have different priorities, or what. All I know is that I tend to focus on things like food, a clean(ish) house and, of course, setting up the bar. He tends to get wrapped up in, shall we say, some of the smaller minutiae of entertaining.

Like what? OK, fine, I’ll give you a few examples, since you asked.

  • Replacing light switch plates.
  • Cleaning out the crawl space under the house.
  • Organizing the garage.

It’s a thing between us. Mostly because we don’t host our social gatherings in the crawl space or the garage. I try to appreciate that he’s being a perfectionist and wants the house to look good when people are here, but really: I can’t get past the fact that NOBODY HAS SET UP THE BAR.

Every time this happens, my first thought is “How can I blog about this while staying married?” Well, not really. My real first thought is that I’m never hosting Christmas again. And then I think about the blog. Or maybe it happens at the same time. Anyway.

You know where I finally could have shared this story? In a new book!

This one.

Does the title sound sort of familiar? Yes, the fabulous Jen of People I Want to Punch in the Throat is back with a new anthology, and I’m so thrilled to be a part of it.

The last one was about motherhood. This one is about the men in our lives.

I’m in excellent company! The line-up in this book is just phenomenal. These ladies have some hilarious stories to tell about their menfolk. I hope you’ll read what they have to say.

My husband has been a really good sport about this whole thing, starting from the moment I said this: “So, uh, I am going to submit a piece for a new anthology. And the topic is husbands.”

I had a lot of criteria: I didn’t want to talk trash about him just to be funny. I wanted to write something I could live with after it was put out there for strangers, friends and family to read. Above all, I didn’t want to embarrass him.

And then I remembered: He doesn’t get embarrassed. Well, that made things a hell of a lot easier. Still, I learned something important: It’s not easy to write a funny and accurate story about your spouse that meets all of these criteria.

Did I write about my home’s Party Sabotage streak? I didn’t. Mostly because I thought of an even better topic to tackle when it comes to my husband.

I can’t tell you, but you know who can? Amazon. Here’s the official book description:

The second volume in the best-selling I Just Want to Pee Alone series!

Don’t get us wrong, we love the men in our lives – we do (most of the time). It’s just that sometimes we would like them to go away. Not forever or anything like that. Just for an hour … or a day … or a weekend. We want some time to ourselves to read a good book or take a walk or do anything other than try to make a dent in the never ending mound of dirty clothes that keeps piling up on his side of the bed. We just want to be alone. All alone. Is that too much to ask? 

Including:

 

When can you order it, you ask? I Just Want to Be Alone will be available on March 22, 2014, but in the meantime you can pre-order it on Amazon.

Click here to pre-order a paperback copy.
Click here to pre-order a Kindle copy.

 

Also, my wedding anniversary is coming up this week. I don’t think the traditional 9-year gift is “borderline embarrassing published essay,” but I have to check.

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Filed Under: Blogging Cluelessness, Family 7 Comments

Wine & Glue & 100 Days of School

February 19, 2014

I need gray hair spray.

And a flannel shirt.

And maybe suspenders, I guess.

My son is supposed to dress up like his 100 year-old self, as are all of the kids in his class. You know, for the 100th Day of School celebration, of course.

I have a few questions about this — let me start here:

When did this become a thing? And, more importantly: Why?

Last year, when he was in Kindergarten, I thought the 100th Day of School was an isolated and cute little idea. It was a sweet reason to celebrate your kid’s education and achievements. And then it quickly became far less cute and not so sweet as I found myself separating various shapes of pasta into 100 pieces to be glued onto a giant poster board — in the formation of a volcano.

I might have started cursing somewhere around the 61st piece and it was downhill from there. If I could have produced actual hot lava for this volcano, my first order of business would have been to throw myself into it.

This wasn’t cute — it was stupid. Of course I didn’t say so, but even my then five year-old son was cynical about the point of all this.

I told him with forced enthusiasm that his 100 Days project was really coming together. And wasn’t he excited for the crown?

The crown?

Yes! A crown! You get to wear it all day at school tomorrow.

Why?

Because it’s the 100th day of school!

Oh. So, it’s the last day? School’s over?

Uh, no, silly! It’s only February!

Is it close to the last day?

Not exactly, honey.

How many days are left, then?

80. I think the school has to be open 180 days.

So what’s the party for again?

The 100th day! {OMG, I can’t keep this up much longer. My face hurts from this false excitement. Wow, my eyebrows are actually cramping from their overly arched position. Is that possible?}

We get a party and a crown?

Yep!

Uh, because we’ve gone to school?

For 100 days!

Uh huh.

Buddy, I think there will be cookies too!

Cookies?

Yes!

OK, fine. A cookie party for going to school all these days.

Great! Let’s finish gluing the last 39 pieces of pasta onto this board! 

{Giant glass of wine is refilled by hand covered in glue/pasta mixture. Side note: Why have I not glued my wine glass to my hand before? It really is far more efficient than the whole put down/pick back up routine.}

* * * * *

And I thought that was the end of this nonsense. I thought that the hand glued to my wine glass would not need to complete another such project once we entered first grade.

And then my son came home last week with an ominously blank long-ass strip of poster board. What in the fresh hell was this?

This, it turns out, was the canvas upon which we were to cut and glue 100 words he can read. For the big celebration.

Another year, another chance to formally glue my wine glass to my hand. And so we searched for the 100 words to cut. I wondered how obvious it would be that 90% of our clippings were from the Babies R Us catalog:

Red

Hot

Sale

 

Or from Us Weekly:

Who

Wore

It

Best

 

We glued. We filled the poster board. 100 words. It did look good, I have to say.

And there was some relief in not having to invent our own project for this. Although, if you find yourself wondering just how you’d like to creatively produce a masterpiece of 100 random items, fear not: There are entire Pinterest boards dedicated to this pursuit, complete with custom t-shirts and the like. You know, when 100 buttons in a snack-sized Ziploc bag won’t suffice, and you don’t really want to part with your collection of 100 wine corks. For sentimental reasons. Hypothetically.

But we’re not done. Now we must dress my son like he is 100 years old for the celebration. I’m thinking a flannel shirt with a photo of how I look in the morning ought to do it.

Not to be left out of anyfuckingthing this winter, the Polar Vortex played a role in the party: Namely, we can’t seem to actually get to the blessed 100th Day of School because of the endless snow days.

When it does happen, sometime around mid-July at this rate, I do hope the kids will make good use of their 100th Day celebration and make crowns for the ones who really deserve them: The parents.

Because:

  • 100 packed lunches.
  • 100 battles over {insert clothing item here}.
  • 100 mornings of miraculously getting everyone out the door on time.

 

But, hey, only 80 more days to go.

Pass the wine glass with the glue, please.

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Filed Under: Family, That Which Drives Me Crazy 13 Comments

Skiing With Kids: Fantasy vs Reality

February 5, 2014

I decided this would be the winter we’d become a skiing family. Or at least take the preliminary steps to eventually transform us into one.

My husband and I both skied fairly often and fairly well back in the day. It’s something that we miss personally and also want our kids to learn to do. Because, let’s face it: Winter is fucking long {especially this year, as I sit through our second school closure this week} and keeping the kids active is not easy. So, hey, let’s get them on skis and solve all of our cabin fever woes.

{Related: I have been known, from time to time, not to completely think things through.}

In my ambitious state to turn us into a skiing family, I booked an overnight stay at a smallish mountain within an acceptable driving distance. On the ride up, I had visions of charming ski weekends for years to come.

* * * * *

In these glimpses into my family’s fantasy future, it’s every winter Saturday morning and our kids are begging to get on the mountain. In their enthusiasm for our favorite snowy sport, they are up early and fully dressed in their fair isle sweaters.  As usual, they pack the entire car for us so I can prepare thermoses of hot chocolate for the familiar drive up to our beloved destination. Once on the road, we discuss upcoming school projects and then we all agree on the same radio station after gagging in unison at an old school Taylor Swift song from their childhood {Remember her? She was SO annoying. We laugh at the memory.} And of course nobody has to stop for a bathroom break — they are too excited to get on their skis. Once at our home away from home, the children carry their gear with nary a complaint. My husband and I claim our favorite seats outside the lodge — you know, the ones by the fire pit — to watch them skillfully navigate the slopes. They really are getting good, we marvel. We decide to take a few runs ourselves and then spend the rest of the afternoon delighting in the charm of the apres ski lifestyle. We clink glasses and my husband toasts the genius idea I had to pursue this sport as a family back in the winter of 2014. It really has made for some great memories, he reminds me. I can’t help but agree. I am sort of a genius.

* * * * *

“Mommmmm, how much lonnngerrrrr?”

I am jolted from my Future Ski Family fantasy as the highway zips by and my kids grow restless.

I know the bucolic ski trip days in my mind’s eye are pretty far away, but hey, we are taking the first step, I tell myself. We are on our way.

“Mommmmmmm, I have to pee. These socks hurt. Mommmm!”

On our way, indeed. Well, with some caveats.

Rather than go into detail about how the weekend played out, let me provide you with the alternate titles of this blog post:

  • Minivan Jenga: Ski Trip Edition
  • “Theeeeese Booooots Feeeeeeel Baaaaaad,” and Other Cries Heard at Ski School Drop-Off
  • Public Restrooms, Kids & 74 Layers of Clothing:  A Cautionary Tale
  • Cardio Blast: How to Keep a Baby Occupied in a Ski Lodge for Six Hours
  • Why Won’t the Bar Open Before Noon?
  • Five Easy Steps to Filing a Stolen Skis Report
  • The Art of Selecting the Right Hip Flask
  • A Jackass’ Guide to Choosing the Only Ski Day with Rain in 2014

 

OK, I’ll admit, I’m being a little dramatic. Except for the Minivan Jenga, stolen skis and all references to the bar. Never mind that the total number of adults in my family to actually ski equaled zero. The important thing is that my six and four year-old made it through ski school without any major fallout.

 

 

If you ask them, though, that was not the important thing at all. The important thing to them was clearly the fact that our hotel had a TV in the bathroom. If you want to blow my kids’ minds, apparently all you need to do is let them watch Disney Jr. while taking care of business. Somehow this detail escaped me when dreaming up my family’s future winter getaways.

So we’re not a ski family yet. We’re still more of a TV-in-any-location people.

But we’ll get there. Maybe.

 

 

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Filed Under: Family, Places Near and Far 5 Comments