Monthly Archives: August 2011



Typically I look at Mondays with dread. In fact, I have been known to dread them so much that I will completely ruin my Sunday evenings. Not on purpose of course…’s just that I start thinking about the upcoming day and the start of a new week, and instead of enjoying the quiet Sunday evening I start to get frustrated and sullen and yes, sometimes even a bit bitchy.

So, I’ve decided to try something new. I’m going to try to see Monday as a fresh beginning – much like Spring. I’m going to try to stop focusing on all the crap that comes with a new work week and instead I’m going to think about the times that won’t be spent working. The times when we sit at the dinner table together, or when we play a game together, or watch a movie together, or take a walk or ride a bike or play with the dog or make homemade cupcakes or read a book or laugh at something funny that we said or talk about what we want to be when we grow up or just sit and look at the stars. (yes I know that was a ridiculously long run-on sentence, but it felt right)

There are so many big things that can frustrate and upset us. So many big things make us go down paths that we don’t really want to venture down and certainly hadn’t planned on. Oftentimes we focus on these big things so much that we forget that the things that are most important are usually the little ones. I know that I miss so many little wonderful moments because I’m so concerned about the big things….the Mondays.

So no more Mondays for me. I’m going to try to see every day as a Saturday filled with love and family and opportunities to make fantastic, breathtaking memories. Maybe you should give it a try too……have a wonderful Saturday – every day!



Defensive at Dinner


Skinny waitresses annoy me. They’re intimidating but they seem to be everywhere – taunting me.

I really don’t like it when the young thing that shows up at my table is a virtual toothpick with perfect hair, long lashes and tanned skin. It’s really tough to order my double cheeseburger add mushrooms and a side of ranch from her. We were in an ice cream shoppe the other day and I ordered a strawberry cheesecake sundae with marshmallow and extra caramel……from a girl who may have been 17 and looked at me as if I were requesting an atomic bomb. Why is she working in an ice cream shoppe if she is morally offended by someone ordering a sundae big enough to feed three? And then there’s the buffet waitresses. If we go to a buffet filled with macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, green beans, rolls, gravy, cakes, brownies – well, you get the picture – why am I not greeted by a waitress who very clearly enjoys the food being served? Again, when they take away empty plate after empty plate I’m pretty certain I can feel the disdain in their fake smiles.

I know everyone is looking for jobs and I’m fully aware of the hard economic times we’re in. But really, for the love of all that’s good…..skinny girls, please start applying at health clubs, gyms, fitness stores, health food stores, bikini shops and all the other similar places where I will most likely never ever run into you.

Thanks so much.

Channel Your Inner Fog Horn Vintage Harley Davidson Industrial Fan


Snoring is a common issue and let me say upfront that I am in no way complaining or venting about sleeping with a snorer. This is all about laughing at myself. For the first time in I can’t tell you how long, I woke up, tossed and turned, chuckled at myself and eventually climbed out of bed much earlier than my typical summer rising time. But, it’s a good thing. I think laughing at myself so early in the morning has put me in a fabulous mood.

I think it’s funny that people use the saying “snoring like a bear”. Has anyone actually slipped into the den of a hibernating bear and listened to and/or recorded the snoring of a bear? I rather doubt it. And really, my mental image of a bear is of a fuzzy, furry, cuddly cutie. Granted, I know and understand the nature of a bear, but I guess I have a more Hallmark vision of them.

Snoring is an interesting thing. I suppose we all do it from time to time. It’s my understanding that a very deep sleep can elicit some amount of snoring in even a typically silent sleeper. That’s not the case with my husband. He’s not a random snorer, he’s a very exuberant devout one.

I guess time has diminished the trouble that I have sleeping while he’s snoring. Early in our relationship if he fell asleep first ,which was almost always the case, I would toss and turn and stare at the ceiling for hours before I would finally drift off. Now, I don’t have much of a problem. I suppose I’ve become used to it and most nights I don’t really even notice it very much – I may chuckle a little because it happens so quickly – but it doesn’t keep me from sleeping. But that’s been a long time coming. Let me sketch you a little picture of how I got to this point.

Jacob has this fantastically enviable trait. The moment his head is upon the pillow he falls asleep. It’s remarkable. I’ve watched him do it countless times. There have even been instances when he was speaking to me and mid-sentence he would stop, I would look over to see what the trouble was, and he was in fact asleep. Because, as he was speaking he placed his head upon his pillow. At first I thought his pillow must be laced with some type of chemical that would bring about instantaneous sleep. But, after trading pillows with him and seeing him conquer the same feat in every hotel, on every sofa and in every person’s spare room we have slept in, I now believe the chemical must seep from his ears. It’s also invisible.

So as I was saying…..the road to here……

In the beginning I would stare at the ceiling silently for a while, not wanting to wake him, and attempt to will myself to sleep. I would pretend that I was somewhere tropical and that the warm breeze was blowing and I could smell the salty air, see the beautiful blue-green of the water, feel the sun on my skin….so calm and quiet….until the fog horn would sound and that fantasy was over. The next stage was to toss and turn and huff a bit. I would turn from side to side every minute or so and let out a long exasperated sigh in the hopes that he would feel the shift in the bed or hear my breath somewhere in the distance. Thereby possibly waking enough to shift positions and silence the noise for just a moment so I would have a brief window in which to fall asleep. When that didn’t work I opted to gently poke him and ask him to turn over. That didn’t go over so well. I quickly found out that he takes his sleeping seriously and doesn’t take kindly to being awakened numerous times to turn over. It would especially irritate him when I prefaced the turning over by asking him if he was asleep. Nope, he didn’t like that at all.

As time went on I tried all sorts of various options. I counted sheep. I drank a cup of chamomile tea before bed, but that just meant that I had to get up in the middle of the night to pee. I counted tigers. I considered those foamy earplugs but was afraid that I wouldn’t hear the alarm go off in the morning and I’ve always had this fear of something getting lodged in my ear canal.  I counted dinosaurs. I tried warm milk but I had the whole bathroom issue again, plus I don’t really like milk. I counted motorcycles. I would sometimes lie in bed on my side, not only cover my ears but also press in so that sound is shut out and your own voice is amplified and I would sing or hum to myself – but my fingers would go numb and start to tingle and I’m really not that great of a singer. I counted dollar bills. I toyed with the idea of those big huge earphones that the guys that stand on the tarmac when a plane is taxiing in wear, but decided that those would most likely not be very comfy to sleep in being that I tend to be a side sleeper. I counted beer bottles. I tried a sleep aid and found that while I could fall asleep, I couldn’t really wake up all that well – all that well being not until sometime the next afternoon. I counted shots of Jameson.

Eventually I suppose the sleep gods smiled upon me. Even though I know for a fact that his snoring is still shaking the walls, I magically can now fall asleep. I’m guessing that they have bestowed me with a chemical of my own – one that blocks out sound and/or makes the sound of snoring peaceful and soothing.

This morning I woke up at 4:30am – because I had to go to the bathroom, not because of snoring. As I crawled back in bed, and listened to the rhythmic sound of the guttural fog horn Harley Davidson industrial fan coming from my husband as he slept peacefully, I couldn’t help but laugh.  The snoring no longer bothers me but now I have to get up at least once a night, sometimes twice to pee. Ironic I guess.

I suppose the moral of this story is to not take things too seriously and laugh at yourself as much as possible. I’ve found that it’s really very therapeutic and is apparently a great way to start the day. And at night…..have sweet dreams!!