Or, at least, the answers to your questions that you so sweetly asked when I phoned it in on Tuesday with my whiney post. And, in a gesture of gratitude, if you left me a comment/question, I will link the comment back to your blog (if you have one. If not, then I guess just a “thank-you” will have to suffice) So here goes:
Erin asked: “What’s the strangest mix of dream and reality you’ve experienced since she’s been sick? For me, sleep deprivation often leads to strange wanderings of the mind . . .”
- Honestly, before I had kids is when I would have the weirdest dreams. As in, I would wake my husband up because I was laughing so.damn.hard at how ridiculous the dream was. Then when I was pregnant, my dreams were things like I dreamt that I invented a quasi-ultrasound machine that I could put in front of my belly & watch the baby moving around. My dreams were always so specific too. Like, I knew exactly how I invented the machine & could spout off weird facts about the accuracy in the clinical trials. Weird. When I was pregnant, I also had a lot of dreams about my (now dead) great-grandmother who was such a kick-ass lady & I miss her so badly that I’m not surprised at all that she would come visit me in my dreams. Although, she would usually come and tell me that (when I was pregnant with Adrianna) my little girl was going to be exactly like me so I had better watch out. Come to think of it, she was probably just coming back to haunt me in my dreams. That’s how awesome she was.
- But now, I’m so exhausted that when my head hits the pillow, I’m out like a light and don’t dream about anything but ways to get more sleep.
Helena said: “You know how stumped I get when it comes to post ideas. But you were totally right: I did not want to read that. Kidding. I’ll see what I can think of.”
- Since Helena’s “question” wasn’t a question at all and she insulted me, I would normally be mad. But, she totally rocks my socks with her funny stories about her husband and stick figure renditions so you should go check out her awesome-ness anyway.
AceRunn asked: “How did you and your hubby meet? Drink of choice?”
- Bonus points to AceRunn for the 2-question response!
- Greg and I actually met when I was 3 and he was 5. My mom used to babysit him & his sister after school until their parents got off work. We hated each other with a passion that would rival a soap-opera romance. Our mothers always told us that the best revenge they could get would be for us to grow up and get married. We were always horrified by that idea. Our paths criss-crossed throughout the years but we didn’t actually start dating until I was 16. His best friend and I went to the same high school and he tagged along to come to my Sweet 16. (It was a mud-wrestling party. I will spill the details of that in another post.) We didn’t have our first real date until almost 2 weeks later because he was helping his dad harvest & couldn’t get out of the field. I eventually forgave him when he caved and took me to see Runaway Bride for our first date.
- My non-alcoholic drink of choice is typically a Diet Coke, Iced Tea with Splenda or water with no lemon.
- My alcoholic drink of choice is a Rum & Diet Coke to get started and if I’m with a bunch of people I’m not too familiar with. It’s easy. It’s familiar. Once the party gets started, I like to move into drinks like Bacardi O & Sprite. If you have never tried one you should. They are delish. Then, once my tongue goes numb, I like to bring out the really trashy side of me and start slamming Red Headed Sluts or Slippery Nipples but only in shot form. I have no idea what’s in them, but I know that I love ’em!
Amanda said: “How about what to do when your husband is a stay at home dad during the week so that you can work full-time to make extra money for the family, and wait for it… he won’t change your kids diaper so now they have blisters and every time you go to wipe their little hiney it bleeds. That said parent that is working all these extra hours who had to give up being a SAHM to do so is seriously considering putting said child into daycare– one of her worst nightmares. You could write a post on how to deal with that. 🙂 ❤ you.”
- Even though I’m in no way pretending to be writing advice that should be taken seriously, I would suggest a few things in your case.
- Tonight when you go to bed, wait until he falls asleep. Then, just as his eyelids begin to twitch back and forth and you know he is deep asleep, you get out of bed, grab all of his clean undies, dunk them in a sink of water & throw them in the freezer. When he wakes up, he will have no clean underwear. Since he is a stay-at-home-dad, I realize that this may not be an issue for him just yet. But eventually he will need underwear.
- Stop doing things for him. Like laundry (which, if you follow my previous advice, you will have less of anyway), dishes, cleaning of any sort. When he asks why you haven’t been cleaning, tell him that you are too busy snuggling the baby and consoling him because of the awful blisters on his unmentionables. For extra guilt points? Tell your husband that the baby will likely need counseling in the future because of this issue.
- Talk to him. Seriously. This is my actual advice. Get somebody that you trust to watch the baby for a few hours while you and your husband sit down and hash this out. It is not going to be easy. It damn-sure won’t be fun. But it needs to happen. Some of the worst fights but best resolutions come from these talks. He may not be trying to be insensitive to you (& the baby) but he is a man. Men need to have their hands held during every step of the way. Talk, talk, talk. Talk until you are blue in the face. Open communication is so very very important.
- I love you too, honey.
J Oliver said: “A post about not knowing what to post is totally relatable! And meta. Reminds me of Seinfeld!”
- Even though this isn’t technically a question either, I’ll give a shout-out because I’m
easysuper-nice & I’m pretty sure I was just compared to Seinfeld. So, yeah. Points to J Oliver for the compliment. Even if he wasn’t following the rules.
I think after this, I should change my name to Dear Abby. Or Dear-Tara-please-never-give-us-any-advice-on-anything-ever-again.
Probably the second one since it’s the most accurate.