Top Ten Reasons I Love Husband Face

Us. Showered and shiny (very rare, take it in)


Sorry for the long hiatus. It has been hectic around my very small home. Between visiting my sister in the hospital(who is now home and doing well, fyi), preschool starting back up, work and the beginning of football season (Yes, I am including this in my "Reasons that I am busy rant," I spend an absurd amount of time thinking about/arguing about/watching football), oh and my children and husband and the eating and the bathing stuff, we are busy. Shortly after my last post I regretted writing it. I may seem bitter and and angry (in the post), but I am not. Really that fight lasted until the next morning and then was done. I have learned an important lesson: avoid blogging while angry (even though that is the fastest I have ever written). And sticking with the spirit of openness and honesty, as much as that post makes me cringe and feel like a crazy person, I am going to leave it up. This is me, good, bad and ugly. Enjoy.

In looking for atonement for my poor behavior towards Husband Face, I offer this post. As promised earlier, "The Top Ten Reasons I Love Husband Face."

1. He fixes my broken shit. Over the past several years Husband Face became handy. This was surprising, but awesome. While he will procrastinate and claims he cannot fix certain things (like my silver shiny piggy bank he destroyed in his clumsiness, which I nearly divorced him over) he somehow comes up with a reasonable solution (in the piggy bank situation the solution was copious amounts of glue).

2. Knows how to make me smile. That came out dirty. Clarifying: He entertains me. Whether it be his dry sarcasm or running around the house tackling babies, I am rarely bored when he is around. He is witty and smart with his humor. While I come from a background of loud talking smart asses, he does it (humor) in a much more subtle way, which probably explains why he is generally better liked than me.

3. According to Husband Face, he has superior genes. He claims that he cannot get sick. And while I have seen him sick before, it is rare. Unlike me, who gets sick if someone sneezes within a 50 yard radius of me. I am fragile. I am hoping the children get some of his super human anti-sick genes. This is also beneficial because he always takes care of me when I am sick. It is awesome. If being sick didn't blow so much, I would lick hospital floors to contract the swine flu. Matt lets me sleep all day and brings me toast with 7up and orange juice, while wrangling the grease monkeys. Perfection.


A couple of the children who benefit from the superior genes.

4. Unfortunately, after I get well he leaves, for a good job. I love that he is in a field where he will always have work. And while we can barely afford to support our family, here in America's Finest City (we would be living the good life pretty much anywhere else), he is employed. In a recession. With zero worries about getting fired. It is a major plus.

5. In addition to being employed, he is a genius. Please, don't tell him this. I like to make him think that I am the superior intellect in the relationship, but I am terrified to take any type of IQ test with him. I know he would win, but never want him to know that I think that, does that make sense? Sometimes (when I say "sometimes" I mean "most of the time") when he talks about what he is working on or a problem at work, I nod my head in understanding, but rarely fully comprehend. Lately, I just stopped listening and smile and nod like a goober. This is not an act of rudeness, but rather self-preservation, I NEED to think I am smarter. It is my thing. I am smart and witty, and he is lucky. Really I am hoping that I am the lucky one, I think of him as the next Bill Gates (who Husband Face recently explained to me IN DEPTH is really not that smart, but stole Windows from some other company, blah, blah, blah or was it Steve Jobs, damn it, I think it was, there goes that witty commentary).

6. When he is not being brilliant, he likes (or at least tolerates) snuggling with me. I am a not a needy girl, until I am. It is complex and hurts Husband Faces overly logical brain. I am independent and would rather die than have my husband speak for me in any situation, I am a control freak, I think chivalry is dead and I am happy about it, but I really like cuddling. There are many rules to the affection: not in public (unless I am drunk), he has to smell good, no half hugs (I must be able to bury my head in his chest like a small woodland animal), and I must initiate it. I hate being touched by pretty much anyone else, maybe my dad and children can hug me if I am having a really good or really bad day. But I have never been a hugger. My poor friends probably hate me for not using the acronyms BFF and Bestie often enough and have stopped trying to hug me years ago, but I am not affectionate, and kind of think it is ridiculous and sad (exception: if you are an adolescent, I realize your hormones are doing crazy things. Hugs not drugs, kids). Now that I am stressed out ALL day and have had a headache since 2006, I need snuggle time. And Husband Face always obliges me. He is like a big furry bear or Chewbacca (shout out to his nerd side). He hates snuggling and cannot go to sleep, conversely I cannot go to sleep without being cuddled. On most nights, he waits patiently for me to fall asleep and then gently sneaks over to his side of the bed. Dedication, people.

6. Along (and somewhat coinciding with) the hugging, he calls me pretty. While half the time I am have bodily fluid or condiments on my clothes, he says I look pretty. And when I was 7 months pregnant with twins and yelled at him for complimenting me he didn't take it back until I threatened to go into labor (and then he still said I look cute when I get feisty).

7. Husband Face, as much as he denies it and tries to avoid it, is a good dad. He can't help it. He loves those kids, and while he once yelled at our 2 week old daughter for screaming at 2am for four hours straight "for no foreseeable reason," he still sat there rocking her so I could get an hour of sleep. K-Dog is asks the same question 15 million times and Big J is generally attacking whatever Itty Bitty is playing with causing tears and screams, but every night he still comes home and plays with the mongrels and tries to help me contain the madness.


Nothing sexier than a man who knows his way around a double stroller.

8. Sometimes I am crazy. As previously mentioned, I was not hugged enough as a child (at least that is what I am blaming the crazy on). Somedays, for literally zero reason, I act crazy. I am a control freak and have serious issues. Husband Face makes sure to remind me that I am acting crazy and I need to check myself. Unlike previous boyfriends that tried to reign in the crazy, Husband Face has been the only successful one, the others have gone down in the crazy flames. I admire his persistence, and I am working on the crazy.

9. Along with my craziness, my need for constant compliments and affection (depending on my mood), I cannot cook (I know, I am quite the catch). Also, did I mention that I am the worlds pickiest eater (once again, blaming my childhood full of fast food and toast). If Husband Face is sick of the four meals I can cook well, he cooks for us and it is good. I am going to stop writing about this topic, because it makes me look like a horrible wife and makes Husband Face sound gay (he's not, by the way, case in point the three babies).

10. He is a good person. He is not mean-spirited and is gentle with his sarcasm (unlike some people he may or may not be married to). He is nice and genuine. I feel confident that he will never hurt me intentionally and that gives me peace. Also, "he would be good looking in Boston," (his words, not mine, so Husband Face, try to not fall in love with him).

If You Give A Mouse (or a Husband) a Cookie

Last Wednesday I decided to plan Husband Face a surprise vacation. He has been awesome helping me out since the twins were born, and I wanted him to know that he is loved and appreciated. I knew that our friends were going up to San Francisco for the weekend and thought it would be the perfect chance for him to get away from the chaos that we call home. I also knew that I would not be able to go since we have three children that need quasi-supervision, at least more than Google Video Chat can offer. I was bummed that I couldn't go, but was feeling like the best wife in history.

Not to be cocky or demeaning, but I am completely aware that Husband Face will never be able to surprise me as well as I did to him. He can hardly manage to get me a card on Valentines Day (this is not a joke, all I wanted for Valentines Day was a card, since we are supporting lots of mouths and they drain our souls and bank accounts, and he forgot. Knew it was Valentines Day, but forgot to get me a card. The last 3 birthdays he has either given me cash or a gift card, and he has never gotten me an anniversary present). All of that is fine with me. He makes the majority of the money in our household and he has never regulated my spending (partially because I am the thriftiest person in America, I get off on the Target Dollar Spot and partially because he trusts my judgement). I like giving presents. I know that sounds so corny and self-righteous, but it is true. I am a good person to get a gift from. I think it through and I am diligent. Over the past 5 years, I have bought Husband Face more "ram" and "video cards" (these are tech items that are little and generally silver that he freaks out about) because I listen and remember that he always says he needs more "ram," similar to how I mention I need a pedicure, but my toes are still neglected. I am feeling like this may sound like I am whining, I am not. I really do not care that I am not one of those pampered women. I have always been really independent and I think I would stress out if a Husband Face tried to lavish me with gifts.

That was entirely off point. Back to it. I pumped Husband Face up all week about his surprise. I did not give away any hints, he was completely clueless. I had him come home early on Friday and then blindfolded him and put him in the car. I drove through shopping centers and around the local college three times to confuse his sense of direction. It was perfect. We got to the airport (which he guessed because of the distinct geography we had to drive through and the roaring planes flying over head) and he was so excited to go. I had packed him a bag and his laptop, which included a long letter about how much I adore him and gushed about how lucky I was to have such a great life partner. It was ridiculous. A big ego booster for the Husband Face. Then our friends came over to the terminal and off he goes to San Fran.

The Surprise Unveiled:

Then I am alone. This is the first time in nearly 5 years that we have been apart for more than a day. Never have I spent a night alone. Friday night I couldn't fall asleep until 3am, because no one was snuggling me. Saturday night I was awake until 1:30am, and finally caved and let the dog sleep with me (wagging her tail in my face all night, she was stoked). The kids were actually really easy. I spent a lot of time going through bins of baby clothes. I went to the ICU to visit my sister a few times. My fabulous mother-in-law entertained K-Dog all weekend. I showered once. I remembered to lock 2 of the 3 locks in our home. I took out the trash once it started to reek. Overall I would consider me as a single parent a success. Not once did I talk to Husband Face sober, which is fine, I expected him to get belligerent. The night we video chatted he broke into a ballroom at the hotel in order to find free WiFi. He proceeded to tell me how much he loves me and the children for 20 minutes (it was drunk chatter ending in him dropping the laptop and nearly falling asleep). I am glad he didn't get arrested.

Sunday rolls around. I am thrilled that he is coming home. I spent the day back to school shopping for K-Dog, and cleaning the garage (one of the items on HIS list). I slowly realize around 6pm that I haven't heard from the crew all day. This worries me. They went on a Napa Valley wine tour and I can picture Husband Face and his buddies jumping off of the returning ferry. I know that much free wine is trouble for my lush husband. Husband Face is supposed to be at the airport by 8pm to make his 9pm flight. At 8pm one of the girlfriends calls me and sounds flustered:

Me: What's wrong? Is Husband Face at the airport?

My poor friend: No. He is wrestling in the pool with my boyfriend.

Me: WHAT THE FUCK?

My poor friend: I lost control 5 hours ago.

(I was right. The wine tour did him in. I can hear the them "playing" in the background. At this point I feel so bad for my friend. Not only does she have to deal with her boyfriend, my husband is just fueling the fire without a wife to contain him.)

Me: I am married to a teenager.

Over the next two hours there is a string of phone calls in which Husband Face blames ME for missing his flight (because I sent him on the amazing bay area vacation). I have K-Dog crying uncontrollably because he wants to see his Daddy, I am going through snuggle withdrawals and have been limited to talking with infants and small children all weekend so was desperately wanting adult interaction, even if he smelt like red wine and sweat. I am not mad that he missed his flight. That would be stupid. I am mad because he was to wasted and then missed his flight, neglected to call me, somehow blamed it on me and left me another snuggle-less night. Not okay. And when hormonal Italian women are mad we call our friends and cry...

I call College Barbie. And as I am describing what I would like in the divorce and how I never would be so selfish/careless and she basically says, "Bitch calm down, you love him" which I did, and I do. However, am still very much upset, but no longer wild and crazy upset. In lieu of a divorce, I am watching the new episodes of Mad Men and Entourage BY MYSELF and then DELETING them. Don't piss off your wife with access to the DVR, especially on a Sunday night.

My Gray Child

Husband Face and K-Dog playing in his room.

Side Bar:
Like the "sun shade" on his windows? K-Dog was waking up "with the sun," and I was getting cranky. I started looking for blackout window coverings and it was going to cost us $80 for ONE window. Solution: Black sheet, stapled to the framing, $4. Works like a charm. Looks perfect when it is down and keeps it cooler in there during summer, warmer in winter. I literally do an evil laugh every time I think about the suckers buying "blackout shades." Sue me if my home isn't Pottery Barn approved, actual living human children live here, we cannot afford style and class.

Over the past several weeks I have been spending my nights with my sister at ICU bed #1. Most nights I am able to put the babies to bed but K-Dog is left to fend for himself with Husband Face. I try to call him right before he goes to sleep to ask him how his night went (generally on summer nights he is allowed to do fun things like swim or bike or tackle our dog).

On this particular night he went night swimming with Husband Face:

K-Dog: Hi Mama. I went swimming and played with a boy. He let me play with a gun and I shot him.

Me: Wow. What a nice boy. What boy was it?

K-Dog: The brown boy.

Me: Ummm. Who?

K-Dog: The brown boy. He is my friend and he has a gun.

Me: Put your father on the phone.

(I can hear Husband Face laughing)

Husband Face: Hi.

Me: You cannot let K-Dog refer to people by the color of their skin. I am pretty sure we will get thrown out of preschool.

Husband Face: No, it's fine. I think it is funny.

Me: Of course you do. Please have a race relations talk with your 3 year old before bed tonight.

Husband Face: That does not sound fun. Do we have a book that can explain it?

Me: Deal with it. Welcome to parenthood, nice of you to show up.

The following is what Husband Face relayed to me when I got home that night:

Husband Face: K-Dog, you cannot call people by their color.

K-Dog: Why not? You are gray.

Husband Face: Really. What color are you?

K-Dog: Gray. So is Mama, Itty-Bitty and Big J. Leia (the dog) is brown. My teachers our brown.

Husband Face: Ok, interesting. But we call people by their names.

K-Dog: I forget names, a lot.

Husband Face: Good point.

Awesome. Now I have spent countless hours trying to dig into his tiny little mind. It is not like he is being a racist. I am almost positive his preschool curriculum hasn't covered slavery or the civil rights era. Although with Barack as President, K-Dog is very curious. Being a politically vocal and inquisitive individual over the past year we have had many discussions about race/civil rights in my home, as well as on the news (which is ALWAYS on in the background of my world).

K-Dog constantly asks me: Do you like Obama or Uncle Sam? (Not the national personification of the United States, my brothers name is Sam).

or

Who is better Beyoncé or Obama? I like Beyoncé she is a single lady. (This is not a joke, he really loves Beyoncé).

I think his little brain is now more aware of other people and not so self involved. I am going to chalk this little exploration into race as childhood curiosity and not me raising a bigot. While I am not entirely sure of how to raise a child, I am steering clear of racial slurs in his expanding vocab. For now, I am not going to dive into a huge discussion on the history of race in America. I am simply trying to work on the child's capacity to remember names, as to avoid any awkward public moments and continue on my raising open minded, hippie children.

Really you think your kids are cute? Have you seen K-Dogs' dimples?

Sunday

I have probably lived more than a quarter of my life. Just when I feel like I am starting to figure my world out something happens that changes everything. I have made a list (remember I love lists) of the days/moments that turn my life in a different direction, usually not one that I planned. I put them in chronological order to ease confusion amongst the readers.

-In April 2001 I got my first job. This was so huge in my world. First of all I was one of the only people, aside from one of my best friends, College Barbie, that actually had a job. I went to school in this strange world of middle to upper class kids that were to busy to be employed. And by busy I mean they were going on "missions trips" and had choir practice and three different church services they HAD to go to, so obviously they couldn't pay for their cars or food or clothes, they were serving the Lord. This is a whole separate issue, and truly not relevant to this post. And I will add that 90% of the people that I went to school and church with are genuinely good people with good intentions. Also, at this time in my life I was also attending the occasional mission trip, and I am sure the greater Seattle/Vancouver area is still reeling from my visit, but I am bad at religion and never really got it. Like I said, a whole different post.

Back to the job. I started working at a movie theatre. I met new people that I had not known since I was five, unlike my school where I was literally in K-12 with the same folks (I have had the same best friends since my early childhood, we could be a fun girl movie). These new friends were creative and liked to talk about films and music and art. I had so much energy and was so naive, I literally could not wait to go make my own money and take on new responsibilities. I loved that job and think everyone should clean at least one movie theatre in their lifetime, you will never litter again. I saw every movie, for free, and felt liberated, not enough to ever say a four-letter-word or stop going to church, but it was a start. That job opened my eyes to new types of people and ideas, an truly great experience that I cherish.

Me and holding a very expensive piece of paper.

-In the Fall of 2003 I went away to college. I remember packing my little Toyota Celica so tight it was hard to find the radio, seriously I put a bike INSIDE the car. I only stayed for a semester at that college, but I was hooked. I loved learning. I loved sitting down with a new class schedule and thumbing through it to find the perfect class to fill a time slot. I loved studying until I fell asleep in the library. I loved starting over. Truly school is something that I can manage with ease. It was never too difficult for me, granted I was a Communication major, not exactly rocket science. Teachers loved me and I was an eager student for them to feed ideas to. I soaked it all up. Daily I wish I was on a college campus somewhere heading to a class to discuss the previous nights reading. Graduating was a sad day for me, the end of my eager student era. K-Dog is in summer school at my Alma Mater and everytime I pick him up I wish I was walking from a Rhetorical Theory class and not from the latest mommy play date. I am a nerd at heart.

K-Dogs first Christmas morning.

-My spring break in 2005 was a big one. I met Husband Face and shortly thereafter was prego with K-Dog. It is strange how pregnancy changes you. Aside from the glaring body image issues, I instantly become less selfish. Sharing my body with a fetus is not fun for me. I am not one of those happy cute pregnant women. I was miserable and not a fan of waddling around college campuses. But I did it. I was bound and determined to not mess up this kids life. I realize we are only three years into this parenting gig but, I am fairly confidant in saying that we have avoided giving him major psychological issues. K-Dog makes sure to remind me daily that I am not an old pro, and need to be more patient and not threaten to take away his speaking privileges (True Story: One afternoon I forbid him from talking until his father came home. You would have done the same thing if you had been fielding questions all day about why my car doesn't talk like Lightning McQueen or why we cannot eat lunch while we are in the pool).

Cuddling.

-In January 2009 we brought the twins home from the hospital. They were really not that difficult to deal with when we were at the hospital, partially because K-Dog was with his grandma and partially because ALL I had to do was hold them. No laundry or dishes or dirty floors were glaring at me. Also, I love nurses, enough said. Once Itty Bitty and Big J were at home everything changed. I immediately felt like the Old Woman who lived in the shoe with all so many kids she had no clue what to do.

The space issue was major, well still is. The first three months of their lives they slept in various places in our room. Itty Bitty had colic and major reflux issues so she was in a modified Pack n' Play that was elevated to accommodate her issues. Poor Big J got shoved in our walk in closet in a baby hammock. Mind you, this is not a master suite, it just a room with a tiny bathroom and walk-in closet, not spacious without four people sleeping in it, but we literally had no other options. Since then we have all three of the ankle bitters in the other room. K-Dog is in a twin bed, Big J is in a full size crib (which he briefly shared with Itty Bitty. You always here cute stories about twins cuddling and sleeping together for years, this was not the case for us. Big J often "attacked" Itty Bitty), and Itty Bitty is in the same Pack n' Play. They are still no where near sleeping through the night, it has been a long 6 months.

Aside from the cramped living conditions, the noise and overall stress in the household increased exponentially from each child. I know that I will one day look back and long for the days that I had to run a hair dryer for 45 minutes to get the twins to sleep and had to prepare for hours to do simple activities like going to the pool (less than 50 yards from my front door), but right now in my current state of mind, I often think about escaping with a good book and a strong margarita to a private island with no kids allowed.

Multiple babies changed me much more than just having K-Dog. He was a relatively easy baby and I still had MY life going on. The twins have drained any social tendencies I had left. Even if I had the time to go out, I think I would opt for a good nap.

My lil' sister holding Itty Bitty or Big J (I know I am a bad mother for not having a clue which child it is)

-On July 19, 2009 my little sister was in a really bad car accident. We were basically told to say our goodbyes a few times. I have never been in an ICU or had to deal with any type of tragedy. So I have definitely had finer moments of composure. As of today she is stable, but it has been a rocky couple of weeks. Lil' Sis is still unconscious, has a broken neck, had brain swelling/bleeding, lungs collapsed and is currently in traction with a broken femur. The hospital she is at is the best, but about 40 minutes from my home and the ICU is obviously not kid friendly, but I try to make it there daily. I sit and read Harry Potter (which I have been warned could cause more damage, but I am confidant that they have not read the CHILDRENS' book) to her. I had one bad bad day with lots of crying and questioning and now that is done. It is not productive to cry or be sad. I am hopeful and trying hard to have a positive attitude.

From all bad events/days/circumstances a lesson can be learned. This tragedy has taught me to give lots of hugs and tell people you love them a lot, even if I don't at that moment. And while lots of people draw on faith in times of trouble, I am not one of them. As previously stated in this post, I am bad at religion. I am glad that my family feels comfort from prayer, and it seems to bring them peace. I also love these people a lot and I am grateful for their support and love, especially during this tough time, even though they know (maybe not accept) that I am a a bleeding heart liberal making my own crazy path wandering away from their religion.

Please keep my sister in you thoughts/prayers/good vibes. I will take help from any Deity. Also if you are in the greater San Diego area you can donate blood under group code JS21. If you would like updates about my sister from my persistent father you can check out her Facebook Page.

Too Hot To Have Body Image Issues

Palm Springs in all of it's very hot glory.

The Rancho Las Palmas, has an awesome kid area with popper park, beach (with sand) and a lazy river. We didn't even go to the adult pool because we felt like we related more with the children and the noise.

For our second wedding anniversary we decided to go to Palm Springs for a one night getaway. Neither of us had been there since high school (apparently Husband Face went with some man named Bruce in a van for a "tennis trip," he has never played tennis before, this is suspect) and since it is literally hotter than hell there (I imagine that hell is 100 degrees, to keep it simple for the demons) the hotel rates are dirt cheap in the summertime. Honestly we could have stayed in the Motel 6 down the street and would have been so overjoyed to sleep a solid 5 hours, but Husband Face did it up big (well, "big" for two poor people that have basically been on house arrest and sleep deprived for the past six months).

It was such a teaser vacation. We know that no one can handle all of our kids for over one night, so as we sat poolside it was bittersweet. Bittersweet for two reasons:
1) We didn't want to get to comfortable in our inner tubes, because we knew the screams of little children was our fate in a few short hours.
2) I had two babies 6 months ago, I have zero motivation/time to go to the gym, a bikini was not my ideal outfit choice. However, it was so damn hot, going outdoors in anything more than a loincloth would be criminal.

About 20 minutes into our lazy river experience Husband Face and I concluded that we need to get our jiggly butts to the gym. There were women and men double our age that, while they were leather like and will most likely develop skin cancer, had rocking bodies that made our not obese but leaning towards extremely neglected bodies, sad. After observing this we proceed in drinking 1,000's of calories in margaritas and sat in our tubes for 3 hours. We also got milkshakes and fries on the drive home. Seeing beautiful people in bathing suits profoundly affected us for half a day.

I ran for a quarter of a mile to Petco with my crazy dog biting my ankles the whole way. I have also gotten dressed for the gym 3 times resulting in zero actual trips to the gym. Right now I am in gym attire, and I am seriously considering going once Husband Face reappears from his daily 8-10 hour hiatus. But it is highly unlikely I will be able to peel myself away from my viral videos. Latest addiction: Anything preformed by the NYC Gay Men's Choir.

So happy together...

Big J playing rough

Fish hooking his sister at 6 months.

Super sanitary, mouth to eye action.

Itty Bitty thinks it hilarious and Big J knows it.

Highlight of my week: Giving Blood

Prepared to save lives.

I am seriously not trying to be a martyr or proclaim how awesome I am, but this week I took my butt and the twins tiny butts down to the blood bank and gave blood. When I was in college there was always a blood mobile on campus so I would donate there, creating a habit for cranberry juice and snack food. This was the first time I had been to an actual blood bank. And the first time I had ventured to donate while caring for kids simultaneously.

So I casually stroll in with two infants and a mission. I can be a contributing member of society and can function with all of these tiny people outside of the walls of my home. I just fed Itty Bitty and Big J so I knew I had about an hour before the proverbial shit hit the fan (knowing full well that with my luck it could be possible for real feces to hit a fan). After going through all of the paper work and oh's and ah's of people realizing that I have twins, I finally get to a chair.

The twins were content in the stroller and I realize that no matter what for the next 10-15 minutes I HAVE to sit here. It was so awesome. They start taking my blood and I am feeling good. My nurse asks me if I want anything to drink and I tell her to keep the cranberry juice coming. It was sort of like being on a lounge chair in Cabo, but inside, with children and no vodka in my cranberry juice. The whole time I am chatting it up with the guy next to me and his daughter. They were donating for their twins in the hospital and I was sharing some of my baby horror stories with the new dad. Itty Bitty was cracking up at all of the different nurses and new sounds and sights and in turn Big J was laughing at her laughing. It was really a good time. I felt like not only was I saving lives but I was sufficiently showing this father the ups and downs have having twins. Ten quick minutes later I was done with my donation and the nurses started unhooking me, then I passed out. I have never passed out when giving blood, or ever, for that matter. Passing out is weird. Apparently I was only out of it for a minute but I had the craziest most involved dream. Not being a drug user, that is what I imagine acid feeling like. I came to not remembering that I had responsibilities or hands...

I spent the next two hours negotiating with nurses that I was fine and needed to go. K-Dog was at summer school, but the child is better off there than in my care on most days. Honestly I did not try that hard to get released. It just kept getting better. The majority of the nurses all wanted to hold a baby, and forbid me to, so I had a team of babysitters while I continued on my cranberry juice and cookie binge. While I cannot guarantee that your local blood bank will be as awesome as mine, it really couldn't hurt (only a pinch, and the possibility of passing out and having crazy acid dreams) to try it as a quasi-babysitting service. According to blood donating policies I cannot go back until mid-August, which is silly to wait because I have lots more blood ready to go. Come mid-August I plan on being there under the guise of saving a life.

DONATE!!! Find your local blood bank here.

Father's Day Weekend=Zero Help from Husband Face

Husband Face with Itty Bitty watching K-Dog on a ride at the Fair (more to come on that crazy day)

Husband Face is a great dad and husband, but I really do not think fathers in general deserve a whole weekend to be recognized. Moms are at home all week with the kids and EARN one weekend a year to be adored. Personally I think working a normal job is easy compared to dragging three kids to the grocery store (this is what that looks like: a car seat in the cart, a child strapped to my chest, a leash on K-Dog tied to the cart, and me in tears). Really, is sitting in a office is that hard? I would kill to sit at all during the day. Now I think my Husband is a quasi genius and I admittedly cannot do what he does, so I recognize this is a case by case situation. Husband Face also spends an inordinate amount of time with the kids, he watches/feeds/puts to bed the kids 2-3 times a week so I can go make that dollar. Most dads would not say they are incapable of such tasks, that spiel does not work on me. You have two arms and a brain, figure it out man.

And while I have issues with Fathers Day, Husband Face did not hear about them. I was pretty much the best wife/mother he could have asked for. I took both Saturday and Sunday off so he did not have to deal with the madness of corralling them. On Saturday we hung around the house and then went to a Padres game in the evening. The pads suck, but the tickets were free through Husband Faces work and came with a food allowance so I was very happy and full of expensive ball park food. And thanks to the greatest mother in law, a night away from the kiddos was fun.

We searched the park for kettle corn. SO worth it!

I love baseball and kisses.

Then there was Sunday. This year we have implemented a new rule concerning holidays, especially Mother's Day and Father's Day. On the latter two days, the Mother (me) or the Father (Husband Face) can choose what she/he wants to do on their day. We have also decided that we will go to one families holiday party per holiday. This decision was made after K-Dog had a sugar meltdown at Easter and the twins were a wreck from being of their napping schedule, it was loud and involved lots of tears and will never happen again. I hate it when my kids breakdown or act like brats in front of family. Because as much as we all love each other I know the judging is coming down and cannot stand the scrutinizing looks of pity/failure. We want to accommodate all of our family sprawling from North San Diego county to very very East San Diego county, but it is not going to happen for awhile, at least until the twins are in grade school. That being said Husband Face decided to go golfing and get extremely inebriated while doing so. I took all three of the kids to my family's house to see my daddy. It was relatively stress free. I do not remember any major breakdowns. I always held a baby and then various members of the family would hold the other half. K-Dog ran around a pool (I know that this isn't safe, and he has since learned his lesson the hard way, but at the time I was not going to rock the boat with petty safety concerns). Husband Face came home after 9 o'clock and then made a bee line for our bedroom. K-Dog falls asleep in there and then when we go to sleep we transfer him into the kids room, this avoids the risk of having K-Dog wake the babies up with his constant requests for water/toys/hugs. Drunk Husband Face and K-Dog proceeded to talk about his golf game for an hour. This is the conversation I heard:

K-Dog: Did you hit the ball over the tree?
Husband Face: Yes, I hit it over lots of trees
K-Dog: Oh, that is awesome. Did you hit the leaves?
Husband Face: Yes, and most of the time I hit the tree.
K-Dog: (Laughing) Why did you do that?
Husband Face: Because I suck at golf.
K-Dog: What is suck?
Husband Face: Don't say suck.
K-Dog: Why? Because you said.
Husband Face: No, because your mom said.
K-Dog: OHHHHH. I am mad at mama.
Husband Face: Why?
K-Dog: I don't like her hair.
Husband Face: Why?
K-Dog: It is not awesome.

Overall it was a good day and my hair was weird. I spent the day with my dad and further developed my crush on Ricky Barnes, and Husband Face realized how horrible he is at golf and further developed a drinking habit. No complaints, except for Barnes losing the open.

I think that people may be concerned that we do not want to spend Mother's/Father's day with each other as a family THE WHOLE ENTIRE DAY. Newsflash: We do that every weekend. Not joking. We never see our friends or go shopping or be frivolous. We work and hang out with our kids. That is all. So for one weekend a year we decided to be selfish. And I am completely comfortable in that statement.

Month 39 of MommyHood, Month 5 with the Duo

Me and all the kiddos at Sea World.

I was talking with one of my close friends and apparently my blog may portray that I am I miserable human being and generally unhappy. This is simply not true. In order to dispel any rumors and reassure concerned parties, once a month I will write a letter to my kids, and post it here. Not wanting to be a horrible parent, most of the content will include anecdotes that express how much I love them or me rambling on for 500 plus words about their sparkling blue eyes. It will be riveting.

In May, I took you to Disneyland all by yourself. You at tons of candy and got spoiled rotten. This is my attempt to buy your love and good behavior.

Us at Disney on the swings. We went on them 4 times. It was sickening.

Playing video games with pops.

K-Dog, do not tell the other children (or your father) but there is no way I can ever love anyone as much as you. When I was pregnant with the twins I would cry every night because I felt so bad for "ruining" your simple little world. While you don't get as much attention as you did pre-babies, you love your brother and sister so much. You are a fantastic older brother. You know who is crying without looking at them and you always remind me when it is time to feed them. I have never had to tell you to be gentle or careful around them (but I may start, you accidentally threw a bat at Itty Bitty the other day), you have always just known that they are fragile. You try so hard to be quiet when they take naps, but it is impossible for you to have any type of ""inside voice" and you feel bad when you wake them up, so I try not to be mad at you. It is the beginning of summer now and soon you are starting swim school. You love to swim/float. The previous two summers I have scrambled to make sure you don't jump in every body of water (including, but not limited to: pools, fountains, streams, the ocean, puddles), but now you patiently wait by the edge of the pool. I cannot wait to watch you swim the pool by yourself. You are getting so big now. I swear everyday you have ten new phrases. One day you came home from school answering all my questions with, "I don't know" and "whatever." I nearly lost my mind and told you those were bad words and the other day you told grandma not to say "whatever." You are simply adorable.

You and your father were matching and I had to document the moment. Sometimes I think you only got his DNA.

Swinging with your girl.

Big J, you are just easy to love. You are going to be exactly like your father. So easy going it is almost annoying. You are no longer a little infant that resembles an alien like creature. I cannot believe how big you have gotten. Seriously 5 months ago you were this tiny little guy with bug eyes, luckily you have grown into all of your features. I think it is impossible, or at least extremely unlikely, to have cuter children, which contributes to the easy loving part. I have a theory that ugly kids may be harder to love. If someone is throwing up and screaming all day at you AND they are ugly, my love would run thin. Anyway, you are far more active than Itty Bitty, and as much as I try not to compare you two, it is inevitable. While Itty Bitty wants to spend her time eating her hands and being held, you don't mind playing by yourself on the floor. You have mastered rolling over, and Itty Bitty hardly tries before she NEEDS to be picked up. But you love cuddling too. And my god, your laugh is the cutest thing ever. You giggle and coo anytime anyone looks at you. Today we were at McDonald's and I was trying to wrangle the crazy child to go and you started falling out of your stroller. Instead of telling me, a woman came and picked you up and you could not stop laughing and looking at her. While it was extremely awkward and inappropriate of her to hold my baby, you loved her, just like everyone else in the world.

You are even ladylike in your sleep.

Swinging with one of your boys.

Oh Itty Bitty. I predict that in 16 years your brothers are going to beat up a string of boyfriends, because you are drama and are going to be a looker. I could look at you for hours. And while 95% of the time you are covered in baby puke and have never smelt good, you are beautiful. The blue eyes and dark hair are trouble waiting to happen. From the moment you were born it has been so obvious that you are a little girl. And for the record you have your father wrapped around your finger. I would start asking him for a car ASAP. You are quite taken with him as well. I know I am old news, and only carried you in my body for 8 painful months, but it would be nice to get cute Itty Bitty smiles all the time. Truly I don't mind, I look at your poppa the same way and I am ecstatic to watch my husband and daughter hang out. Also, I ask Husband Face this all the time, could we be friends in 20 years? I see these mother/daughters shopping and laughing with each other, and I think they genuinely like each other. Can that be us? I will try not to be crazy and could you try not to be a brat? Deal. Aside from your killer good looks, you are a happy baby, now. The first 3 months of your life you were miserable. Since you were so tiny your little stomach and kidneys had not fully developed, so you had a reflux and other preemie issues. I felt so helpless when you would cry for hours for no reason, at time driving us crazy, I am relieved that you seem to be feeling better now. You are my precious baby girl who is happiest when being held and tickled. I am the same exact way, maybe we will be BFF in 2029.

Mothers Day 2009

K-Dogs Theatrical Debut

Last week K-Dog had his first recital. I was a hot mess. I was convinced one of two things was going to happen: 1)He sees me and leaps off of the stage and proceeds to be obnoxious and we leave the school mortified. 2) He cries the whole time and we leave the school mortified. Luckily, I completely underestimated his theatrical prowess.

When he first walked on the stage he nearly jumped off when he saw me (I know my boy). I yelled (not crazy angry yell, but polite urging please don't embarrass me in front off all these parents yell) at him from the audience to stay there with all his friends and get this, he LISTENED. I was amazed. For some reason his teachers, who are well aware of my childs' severe anxiety issues, put K-Dog front and center. When he was actually looking at the crowd (the majority of the time his back was facing the audience and he was singing to the kids behind him) he looked terrified. But that all changed when "Hot Potato" of Wiggles fame came on. K-Dog has never been more excited than in that moment. His big blue eyes lit up and he began jumping for 3 minutes! Words cannot express the joy that those four men in matching spandex bring my child. Here is the video to prove it:


While I have the Wiggles on my mind, let me say, what the hell? I will be the first to admit that Anthony is a hottie, a toddlers across the globe would agree with me. But the nation of mothers is sick of "Fruit Salad" and not impressed by the "Big Red Car," the Australian quarto is getting annoying. The todders however disagree, they are like the Beatles for them. K-Dog watches little TV now, but during the long hot days of being prego with twins last summer the Wiggles (along with Elmo and Nemo) practically raised him as I lay motionless on the couch. That summer, I ingested every Wiggle lyric and wondered how Anthony looked so good in spandex.

Husband Face hates the Wiggles. He is one of those guys that is constantly saying, "Why didn't I think of that." He is also mad at Google and any social networking site (he claims that he invented MySpace when he was 12). When I told Husband Face how much the Wiggles were worth, plus that all of the hot moms love them, he began hatching his own children's band in his head. Husband Face says that he has a far greater superior intellect and should have of been a dancing/singing fool, software engineers get no ladies. He rambles on about he can make much better children programing and then (while intoxicated) tries to convince other 24 year old males to sing and dance there way to riches. To date, I have not seen any demo reels of my husband dancing to classic kids tunes, but I would not be surprised if one were to surface.

Golfing in our Condo "Backyard"

This is the most white trash series of photos ever taken. As you can see K-Dog is not wearing any pants, but has a helmet on, crucial. Also, our backyard is littered with toys and various other junk, adding to the overall appeal. Amongst the chaos, let us observe my sons' excellent swing. These photos will be in the PGA Tour pamphlet one day.

Are you joking me? My 3 year old keeps his head down the whole time... Watch out Tiger.

Top Ten Reasons My Marriage Could Fail

There has never been and never will be anything cuter than my babies holding hands.

While I was watching the season premiere of Jon and Kate Plus 8, (at my dad's house, since we have no cable/DVR/any modern convenience, awesome) Kate was trying to get out of being a horrible wife by saying that the parents of multiples have a higher divorce rate. I have looked around (by "looking" I mean conducting a 2 minute google search) and cannot find any stats on that info, but I will take Kate's word for it. I think Kate was talking about higher order multiples, but I am going to apply it to my life. After further thought about the divorce issue I realized that Husband Face and I are prone to several of the common "marriage risk factors." I decided to make a list of the most likely causes that will do us in, in order to entertain, to reflect and possibly work on our flaws.


Top Ten Reasons My Marriage Could Fail

10. Infants suck. Kids suck. Multiple of these beings does nothing to cultivate a lovey-dovey relationship. Sure they are cute and I love them, but between the whining and grossness shooting from multiple holes, by the time Husband face gets home I am near tears and smell horrible.

9. We were/are young. I think I underestimated how much I wanted to be 20 when I first "settled down", and not a middle aged housewife. I glamorized the world of laundry and bottles and put my friends lives out of my mind in order to stay sane. It would be nice to have had my own life before kiddos came along, and not have to ask permission to have a night out or consult my bank account before I buy a new pair of jeans, but these are my choices. I am 110% sure Husband Face feels the same way, but he lived a rock star life before I came along, while I was the nicest girl in the world, fresh out of a strict private school. I also truly believe that I am the best thing that has ever happened to him. I will forever remind him that I filled out his college application for him, granted he is a genius and it would have been accepted anywhere so it was easy, but he was also high and would have never had the gumption to do it.

8. I am a bitch. If you cannot tell by #9, I have an inflated since of how much I really matter. I know that Husband Face loves me, but really how much abuse can one man take? And I work on it. I think I have gotten considerably better at taming my inner bitch. I rarely yell and try to stick to quieter passive aggressive tactics. However, the worst story in the world includes me becoming bitterly angry because Husband Face did not butter my rolls when they were hot out of the oven. Not my finest moment, in my defense I was hungry and pregnant with two people.

7. Husband Face has his moments. He is super easy going on certain life issues (bills, negative monies in our account, politics) but other things drive him nuts. He cannot tolerate crying babies. Literally there is ALWAYS a crying child in our home, so I feel like he should adapt. He however feels like yelling about the nonsensical nature of their crying is helpful. He also decided that he was "handy" when we bought our condo a year ago and since then has tackled (and completed, I should note) several projects that should have been dealt with by professionals (pipe issues, installing ceiling fans, baseboards, plumbing woes). While several of his "projects" have ended up with desperate calls to highly "skilled" workers, there is a lot of screaming at inanimate objects in the meantime.





6. Big J. He is our most easy going child, and I have very few qualms with his personality. However, his scream is comparable to nails on a chalkboard. It hurts my brain. Also, he only looks left. Which is currently causing me to spend hours getting him to look right and worry about his head being misshaped. Not to mention that physical therapy is an hour away and has a hefty price tag.



5. Itty Bitty. Since the day she left my womb she has been loud. She was sick for the first few months of her life, which broke my heart, but many days and long sleepless nights, she slowly drove me insane. Itty Bitty could cry for hours, she throws up all over her adorable outfits (one of the only reasons I ever wanted a girl), and has to be held constantly (forcing me to neglect her quieter well behaved counter part). Lately she is smiling more and does not seem to be in pain, but she still projectile vomits constantly.



4. K-Dog. The child is the love of my life. I cannot imagine my world without him, but some days I try to, it would be quieter but not as rewarding. He is stubborn, really stubborn, which can be traced directly to me. I have tried every "Super Nanny" tactic and child rearing book to chill him out, but with no success. I plan my world around situations that will not upset him, and everyday I fail. I should not have been a parent so young, and feel like my inadequacies are hindering him.

3. Husband Face and I are both from divorced homes. Husband Face actually had a somewhat "normal" divorce experience. He was young and had visiting days with his father. He was raised by mostly women, which has helped our relationship immensely. My parents divorce took a decade, mostly in my teen years. It was crazy and I often felt like I had to raise my brother and sister. Once I had my license, I pretty much took over as acting parent. I blame most of my issues on my parents, it makes for a good scapegoat.

2. Since my ovaries are hyper active and produced two eggs and we have poor foresight abilities and severely underestimated the high cost of feeding and diapering twins, I had to pick up a night job. This is good for feeding babies, bad for my marriage. As I previously mentioned, Husband Face does not enjoy crying babies and when I am gone he is the sole caretaker. By the time I get home he is cranky, a child is usually still awake and screaming, and I am mad that I can't just chill for 2 minutes. I am considering "playing" the lottery to alleviate our financial woes, hopefully resulting in reduced marital stress.

1. Dishes and laundry. If you have a maid, you have no excuse not to be happily married. I cannot live in a messy house and therefore spend all of my time (that isn't spent on work and child rearing) cleaning and not paying any attention to Husband Face. So if you feel so moved to save a marriage you can donate a maid to my household. Please give my kids the gift of married parents, their future is in your hands.


To all of you who are worried about the state of my relationship, I will post a "Ten Things I love about Marriage" soon. I am truly adore and love Husband Face and could not imagine going through my crazy life without him by my side. Also, Husband Face read this before I published it and would like everyone to know that I am joking when I ask for a maid, or so he thinks...

The Gays in CA

Me and College Barbie at Gay Pride in San Diego. We took the twins and everyone thought we were a super hot lesbian couple, I wish.

Well it had to happen. This blog was bound to get political given my fiery spirit and the current state of the union. Let's keep it simple and only discuss the latest happening in California regarding Prop 8. Amongst other major political news, the CA supreme court ruled to uphold Prop 8, which passed in November 2008, amending the state constitution to say that marriage is between a man and woman. Passing Prop 8 left nearly 18,000 gay marriages in limbo, since the CA supreme court gave the ok to the gays to marry earlier that year. Today's ruling is like a slap in the face, but then they turn around and give you some candy, the justices decided not to force those married before Prop 8 to be divorced, swell. So not forcing 1,000s of people to divorce: good, continuing to uphold inequality: bad.

Let me state this before I continue: I love the gays. I vocally did not support Prop 8. My large prego ass was holding signs on election day for the cause. My car was covered in "NO ON 8" giant letters (Husband Face was convinced it was going to be keyed in our very religious/anti-gay community, thanks to all those who saw it but resisted vandalism). I have had heated battles with just about every family member about this issue, nearly destroying those relationships. It makes me furious and sad to see such disregard and hatred for a whole group of people. That being said, I am sort of glad the judges upheld the voters decisions. Best case scenario would have been for Prop 8 to have been rejected in November. But that didn't happen. I feared that if the judges overturned the voters decision today, the gay community would have been further ostracized by the conservative Christian base. Could you only imagine what Miss CA would have had to say about it? On that note, could the anti-gay folk out there get a better spokesperson, she is NOT helping your cause, just my opinion. I also think that judges are a lot smarter than the masses (especially Californians), and saw what was happening across the country and made a bold move last year. Today's decision is not really surprising, they seldom overturn the people's decision.

Coming from a super religious/conservative family and school of thought, I know all of the anti-gay marriage arguments. Most of them are religious, which what ever happened to separation of church and state? I have been asked would I want my children raised by two men or two women? Frankly, I think that most of the heterosexual parents (including myself) are not qualified to raise and care for a hamster, much less another human being. Anyone that can go through the stringent process of adoption and make it through with a baby, has my ok. I am also asked if I would want my son taught about the "gay lifestyle" in school. My child being taught that in America you marry who you love, is a good thing, not some horror I need to shelter him from. I want my kids to grow up accepting others for who they are, not their sexual preference. I want them to be independent thinkers, who know right from wrong, but can discern the gray areas without judgement. I feel like what I want for my kids is what Christian parents want for their children too, they just have this "sinners" category that you should pray for, but never ever support.

Gay marriage is going to be legalized. It is not a religious issue or a party issue, it is a human rights issue. The gay community is asking to be equal with the heterosexuals and apparently California (of all the states, really) is not ready for that reality. It will happen though. Women eventually voted. Interracial couples eventually wed. The blackies integrated into the whiteies schools. Time is the biggest factor in this issue. Maybe not the next election or the election after, but gay marriage will be legalized. My kids will be taught that EVERY person is equal either by me or their teachers, most likely their teachers though, I am really busy.

I am sad for the coming battles that the gay community will have to fight, but I will not waiver. I will stand at rallies and make phone calls, annoy whoever will listen until they change their mind. It is easy to get heated over this issue and I don't understand why people are scared that the gays marrying somehow cheapens their marriage. Shouldn't they be more concerned with the rampant infidelity and rising divorce rate? That makes marriage look bad, not more people WANTING to be married. And don't get me started on the civil union joke. If it is the same thing as marriage then why isn't it called marriage? I would not settle for a civil union. It is like saying DiGiornos is delivery, sorry that pizza blows and I would pay the cost to get the good stuff. So gay community that is what you are doing now: Paying the cost so you can get the real good stuff. Do not waiver. You are fighting for those who follow. Trust me, it is worth the price, most days.


Miss California, drag style.

Three Kids, check. Husband, check. Mortgage, check. Graduating college, check check... I think I did it backwards.

I asked Husband Face how many other graduates he thought were thrown up on before the ceremony. It is SDSU, hangovers are not uncommon.

In September 2008 I was walking the proverbial halls of SDSU with two babies in my uterus. As a sat down for my first class of the semester I thought to myself, "I have been sitting in classes for nearly 6 years and have never failed one, why am I still here?" The class was "Writing for TV" and as the Professor spoke I realized that I already knew this information. When the class dismissed I made a beeline for my counselors office. After literally 45 emails between five different counselors/teachers/academia big wigs the remaining three classes I needed to graduate were suddenly "found" in my lengthy college history. While a normal student would be mad that she/he was graduating with 160 units, compared to the normal 120 (nearly a year and a half of additional education), I truly did not mind. Honestly the only reason I even went to the counselors office that day was because it was bloody hot outside and I knew she would have a nice cool beverage (a little water cup and drinking fountain) waiting. Also I had been to FIVE different colleges and was just asking for the powers at be to royally screw up. Did I mention that I genuinely enjoy school? Not only is it a day out of the house and away from children throwing up or throwing tantrums, I was among adults, well future adults. Without a doubt I was always amongst the most well spoken and studious students, which quite frankly isn't a huge accomplishment at an institution that periodically has syphilis outbreaks. But hell I like feeling smart amongst my peers and not just around small children. Me at SDSU is like being the tallest midget.

Long story short, I have been done with college courses for a year now but just "walked" this past weekend. I showed up to SDSU surprised at how weird it felt to be there. It was like running into an old friend that you hadn't seen in awhile. Unfortunately I had zero human friends there. Being away for a year did not bode well for my popularity. I ran into one person I took a class with a few years back with and was ecstatic to see someone I recognized which in turned scared the person away. The ceremony was fairly long which was fine by me. I sat alone in peace and quiet listening to the soothing sound of professors gripping over budget cuts (I think CA needs my tax guy, he can fix anything) and hundreds of names being called. When it was finally my turn to walk it was a genuine bittersweet moment. The lady reading my name was my favorite professor (which made me long to sit in one of her classes) and she read it with extra enthusiasm. I realize that furthering my education is not in my immediate future, and that saddens my soul. I am trying to be normal and not do 1,000 things with my life. School was difficult enough with just K-Dog and Husband Face to look after, the twins would experience significant neglect if I went back for my Masters. I would like if they did not have severe mental issues directly caused by me.

My 5 seconds of recognition.

Husband Face and I enjoying the kid free moments.

"Kiss me dammit, and make it look cute."

My "little" brother came with flowers. A few minutes after giving my the flowers he asked for them back and wanted to take several pictures of him giving me the flowers, to document his kindness. It looks like we are going to some type of strange prom.

After the ceremony we had family and friends over to "our" pool complex. I dressed the children in matching SDSU apparel, it was precious. Overall, a good day. However, after staying out to late with my girlfriends that night I got sick, as usual. If I do not treat my sleep deprived body very gently I immediately get sick. I had to work all day (the second day of a new job I don't really have the clout to call in sick yet) and then we had my sister-in-laws graduation party immediately after my shift. We march into the party (anywhere we go looks like an effin' parade) and after about a half hour of me infecting the masses with my germs I crash in her bed, for two hours. Awesome. Happy Graduation Steffers, we of course forgot to get you a present but I am going to go sleep in your bed, leaving my screaming children to fend for themselves. Enjoy.

Now all of the kids are varying from grouchy sick to deathly ill and Husband Face is in quite the mood after being stuck with the kids while I was working and dying of baby/sleep deprived flu all weekend. I told him I am "stuck" with children all the time and it is a wonder I am as personable and great as I am.

That would be my son playing by the pool unattended.

What? This isn't a bathing suit?