Running Red Momma

We decided to combine fun these last few weeks by having my husband work 70 plus hours and installing wood floors. This lovely combination has left me alone with the kids, eating out of my car and driving aimlessly.  Although I got kisses in the dark when I was half-asleep, we still weren't seeing that much of each other.  I felt a little sorry for myself and grouchy.   I have always been one for crazy dreams.  So, these lonely days created a genuine nightmare for me.  For some unknown reason, my husband was talking to me in a dream...don't know if I was married or engaged, anyway, he said it wasn't working out.  I tried to convince him otherwise.  I asked,  "who else would laugh with me, who would sit back and see the things I see, who would stick with me through everything, who would be my best friend?" I woke-up sobbing.  Fortunately, my husband was still there and I was so shaken that I sat in his arms and wept until I calmed down.   I was so strongly reminded

When I was a teenager, we used to hear the urban myth of a married couple putting pennies in a jar for each time they had sex.  Thereafter, in the years following, the couple should withdraw a penny for the same concept.  The idea being the jar would never empty.  I guess that is the myth part. Actually, I am relieved  it can still be great after ten years and three kids.    You never know how time, marriage, kids and health can impact your personal recreation.   However,  there have been a few books lately about having sex for 100 days or a year straight (what can I say, I fold laundry while watching tv).  Honey, I am not on that boat.  I don't see myself enjoying that kind of a commitment.  For me, the next morning is about smiling to myself, "Yeah, I got some."  It makes my whole day great and I think of my husband more that day.  I like the spontaneous nature of the whole thing; little else in my life feels off the cuff.  It don't eat ice cream every day either.  

We have had this grand goal of being more green.  Hence, we tried to go no car for a week this summer.  It failed after two days.  Biking with all of the kids in 101 degree heat did not go well.  Fall hit,  and I wanted to try again.  We were on day 3 of our no car pursuit.  I loaded the kids, sans cell phone and rushed to pre-school.  We were late and I was pedaling like a woman possessed.  (Yes, have I foreshadowed this enough?)  I bounced over the tracks and the trailer caught the edge of a pole.  No, of course the kids were not hurt.  The trailer slowly wobbled and squeaked.  I was only a half-mile away from my goal.  As I tried to slam the wheel back into place, a kindly older man helped me lift the cart and suggested a rock.   A few bashes later, we were on our late way.    After I picked IJ up from pre-school, I reminded myself to slow down and enjoy the day.  We took a bad brush with a prickly bush and we were done for.  Having no phone, duh, I had to figure it out alone.  I

I have been going to the local rec center for kids' swimming lessons. The last few nights I have seen two men swimming in boxers.  Why does that make me ill?  They really don't cover any more or less than swim suits.   Thank heavens they are not the peek-a-boo kind. Trust me, I checked.  Which says what about me?  I didn't stare at them forever.  So, maybe I was just lucky.  They are the plaid like joe boxers.  Yet, I kind of shudder and want to yell, "Hey we're all in this pool of bath water together here.  So,  let's have some mutually acceptable swimwear."  Maybe, I am being neurotic.  

A while ago, we had some extra money in our medical savings account which needed to be spent. I was feeling a little bold, so I picked my first pair of designer "Bebe" glasses. I was thrilled. I usually don't do extravagant things like that. So, it was fun. When I walked in the store to pick up my frames, I hopped to the counter to see my new, snazzy glasses. As I pulled out the "couture", I was stunned by how far my pathetic prescription lenses jutted past the frame. Did I mention I am unable to see the big "E"? Suddenly it seemed like a Prada bag was being stuffed with pork rinds. It dimmed the effect. Deflated, I tried them on my face. As I turned to the side, I felt all I could see were those HUGE lenses.  I was transported to those sad days when I would bring a novel to dances so I had company during the slow numbers.  Now, it may seem like an exaggeration to you. But, don't you have something that still kind of lingers from fourteen?

It doesn't seem kosher to add a political note to my current sphere of commentary. It seems LDS women stay in the family, humor and hobbies arena. What makes me nervous to comment on politics, is I am not as informed as I would like to be. I don't follow all of the specific newspapers or talkshows and programs. I don't have the time or motivation (if I were not being honest). I kind of skim and dip down and grab a bit of information. Therefore, this makes me unable to clearly explain things or provide support for all of my positions. That would be my first secret. When I am with a number of friends, whom I love, I have realized one can be drastically different in politics and yet really have the same values and beliefs. Strange as it seems, it can work. Let's accept that although I have may have personally conservative moral values, this can still steer me in a different voting direction. When I voted for John Kerry, I felt let down by the end. I don't w