My Husband Rocks
Dear Darling Husband,
This week, we rediscovered an old CD-ROM favourite — You Don’t Know Jack.
Since we have very different interests when it comes to games — me being card-challenged, and you hating my Friends trivia DVD game — it’s a miracle when we find one that we can play together.
While the super-sunny week had record-high temperatures, and everyone was spending their evenings outside, we were crowded around your fancy computer monitor in the dark, playing a late-90s trivia game. We always do things a little differently, don’t we?
I am still laughing over how we actually got ready for work really fast the other morning, just so we could sneak in a quick game before the commute.
This weekend, I demand a re-match.
Love, your wife
xoxo
Isn’t that always the way?
You take a test.
It’s negative.
Your period arrives two hours later.
I think First Response might be in kahoots with Mother Nature. They want our money, girls!
I should be buying these by the case
Took another one this morning.
Yup, another one.
In the same month.
Let me explain!
Since a few people told me I might have taken the last one — which came up negative — too early, and since I was still feeling (or thinking I was feeling) symptoms, and I still have not gotten my period, I thought I would give it another go.
And it was a one-liner (a.k.a. Not pregnant).
My hopes were only a teensy bit up when I took it this morning, because really, I do trust the good people at First Response. If I had gotten pregnant this month, I am pretty confident the first test would have worked. I mean, it is called First Response — not “Sorry-it’s-too-early-to-tell sticks.”
I just wanted to take another to make sure. And, um, because I am addicted to peeing on these damn tests.
I went almost 26 years without buying one, and now I can’t stop!
Living like there’s no tomorrow
On the drive to work this morning, our fave radio station was discussing people who are unhappy with their jobs.
One announcer said they actually wanted to punch people who seemed to be feeling dreary at work, and a caller chimed in to say that everyone “should live life like there’s no tomorrow,” and do jobs that they love.
I listened quietly, and then snapped it off. I don’t get it. Sure, living “like there’s no tomorrow” sounds nice. But if I was really going to die tomorrow, or next year, I wouldn’t be working at the job I am now. I would be … writing or teaching art classes or something!
If everyone did whatever they felt like doing, no one would own houses or have savings. No one would think of planning for the future. People would be in debt up to their eyeballs, because they wouldn’t care about paying it off.
I have always been a future-thinker. I chose my university based on which one would give me the best job — or so I thought. I wanted to buy our first place in an area with a good school system, even though kids were waaay down the road at that point. I basically decide everything in terms of the long-range.
I poured all of this out to Darling Husband, but he actually said he agreed with the caller. He has always been a very happy-go-lucky guy, but he is not irresponsible. He loves one of his jobs, and does the other to supplement his income. He is a champ at letting go of things and just relaxing, but he also knows when to be serious. He believes in buying little things we want, but is not reckless with money.
I had to admit that if anyone lives for the moment — but is still mindful of the future — it is probably him.
And I could learn a few things from him.
Journal rant
I’m sure I have mentioned it before, but this whole not-knowing-you’re-pregnant-for-the-first-four weeks is so lame.
How am I supposed to write in the first four weeks of my cute little planner? It has a spot for entries beginning at Week One …?
How can I write things like, “My, I am ever so excited, to think my wee spawn could be conceive-eth today,” when I don’t know when I’m clear to begin writing?
I guess you are supposed to either begin journaling two weeks before you could get pregnant, and then White-out all of the entries if it turns out you are not …
… or start the book four weeks into it, and try to remember exactly how you felt for the last month?
Somebody should be fired over this.
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