Just The Two of Us

Frugal Brilliance

Yesterday morning I was making Karen's birthday cupcakes.  Yes, I realize they are a smidge late, but even the fact that she's one of my bestest (yup, pretty sure that's a word - at least in my vocabulary) friends could not counteract the fact that the heat index was 115d the day before her birthday, and no amount of "friendness" could make me turn on my oven.

As I was throwing the cupcake bases into the oven, I was also reading the directions.  I'll admit it, that has been a weak point my whole life.  I'm not really a "directions" kind of person.  I'm more a "fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants", come what may, person. 

I remember one time in 8th grade, Mrs. Johnson gave us an assignment.  It was a sheet of approximately 20 instructions on it - she told us to just follow the directions, it wouldn't be hard to complete.  The very first direction stated that we were to read the instructions all the way through.  Yeah yeah yeah... yada yada yada.  I skipped down to #2, figuring I'd get a jump on everyone else in the class (I was a bit competitive that way).  Reading #2, I boldly followed the direction, got up from my desk, walked up to the front of the room, and wrote my name on the board.  I was the only one.  This should have been a clue, but I was smug in my 8th-grade knowledge of the world, which included the fact that I was exceptionally gifted.  HA.  I turned around to go back to my desk, and all other 8th grade eyes were upon me.  Curious.  Ever confident, I moved on to #3, #4, and so on.  Just about the time I was on #5, Mrs. Johnson asked if we were all done?  Huh?  Come to find out that #20 stated to skip instructions #2 - #19.  Oops.

Given that, I had forgotten that in addition to the other foodie things that I needed to make these particular cupcakes, I also needed donut holes.  Irritated that I would now have to run up to Target to purchase donut holes, and thus interrupting my cupcake-making effort, I was suddenly struck with a brilliant, brilliant idea.  Running upstairs, I shouted to RW:

ME: "Hey Babe!  Want to save us 80 bucks?"

RW: [looking skeptical] "How?"

ME: "Run up to Target and get some donut holes for me!" [batting my eyes]

RW: "And how does that save us 80 bucks?"

ME: "Because I wouldn't be stepping foot into a Target store!"

He went to get the donut holes.

 

Stepping on Thin Ice

  Just a suggestion...

When watching your husband labor tirelessly building new steps, railing, decking, and framing to your front porch because the old stuff was rotting out and dangerous, do not wait until the steps are built, painted, and new framing in process to have the following conversation:

RW: "What do you think?  Do we need a railing?"

ME: "No, it's fine, I like it just how it is."

 
RW: "So, your parents could get up and down with no problem?"

ME: "Umm... build the railing." [looking pensively at the project]

ME: "Hey Babe?"

RW: [bent over with the tape measure] "hmm?"

ME: "Since this is already a lot of work, why don't we just reconfigure the front porch?  It looks funky, this rectangular thing just jutting out from the house."

RW: [incredulous stare] "Are you KIDDING me?? I JUST get the steps BUILT, working on the FRAMING, and NOW you bring up changing the whole configuration??"

Ummm yeah.  Do you hear that sound?   That is the sound of me tip-toeing back from where I came from, far, far away from RW.

 

Stoned

They say (and who, exactly, is they?  I've always wanted to know.) that there is nothing as painful as giving birth or kidney stones.  Unless it happens to be giving birth AND kidney stones - now I would imagine that to be quite painful.  Sort of in the category of beyond pain, if there were such a thing.  Seeing as I've never given birth, I can't really talk about that, but I do have experience with kidney stones, and I know that they are oh so fun.

I had 2 or 3 bouts with kidney stones 8 years ago, so when I was brutally awakened one night with lower back pain, I knew I was headed for the Dante's Inferno equivalent of pain. Can I just mention that I seem to be overcome with kidney stones at the most inconvenient of times. Granted, I'm not exactly sure what would be a convenient time for a kidney stone, but I have particular bad timing in this area. 

The first time it happened, RW's 2 cousins and 2 of their kids had come to visit us.  Trust me on this, one doesn't get many visitors willing to leave the land of fruits and nuts (that would be California, for the uninformed) to come visiting in weather-neurotic Minnesota, so one really doesn't wish to squander that opportunity when it arrives.  Be that as it may, it didn't stop me from keeling over in pain, pacing the floor on tip-toe (wouldn't want to wake the guests), and eventually giving in to RW's increasingly insistent suggestion that this type of pain is not normal, and perhaps he needs to drive me to the Emergency Dept.  So as quietly as we could (as quiet as one can be when they feel like a cannon ball is shooting into their kidney, sucking out every form of sanity one has ever possessed), these hosts left our guests home alone for the night.

Fast-forward to another very... inopportune time for kidney stones.  RW and I were about 1 week into our annual 2-week camping trip to the Black Hills.  Did you catch that?  Camping trip.  We went to bed, and about an hour later, something woke me up.  This time Dante was knocking at our tent door (zipper?), yanking me back into his Inferno of Pain, and making it worse was that it was a 30 minute drive to the closest Emergency Room.  Unfortunately for me, it was just that.  An Emergency Room.  One room, 2 beds, and a doctor they had to call in from home.  Apparently this wasn't exactly the big city.

However all's well that ends well (so they say), and a couple of hours later I was blissfully in that netherland of morphine and demoral, catapulting me back up to earth (well, and let's face it - possibly beyond.)

The next day I uh... passed... a positively gargantuan kidney stone - really, it was almost the size of a walnut (can you imagine now why they hurt?)

 
.. I did say almost. 

 

Is Karen a Good Friend? You be the judge...

So yesterday I mentioned to Karen that she should do a guest post on this blog.  I figured.. "Hey!  She's the one with something to say - I was out of it for the better part of 4 days."  Also, I was feeling slightly lazy.  However, she immediately said "sure".  I should have been suspicious at her quick agreement.  Quick agreement means that she must actually have material.  That didn't cross my mind, I was just happy that I didn't have to strain my brain to do any writing. That may have been a monumental error in judgement on my part.  After reading what she wrote, I seriously considered saying "thanks but NO THANKS!"  However... if I did that, she'd probably just post it on HER blog, and then half of the people I know would read it anyway.  So... I may come to regret this in a big way, but here goes, a guest post from Karen:

Last week I had a great life experience. Seeing one's closest friend heavily medicated is something we should all aspire to experience. 
 
I had the pleasure of being with Deb and her family the day of her surgery.  I was the first to arrive.  I actually beat Deb to the hospital.  Deb strolled in and we were told that RW could not accompany her at this time.  RW is sort of a hands on kind of guy...I could tell he was a bit irritated at their separation.  So RW and I chit-chatted about the world and all of it's problems, and also the abrasive, irritating, and somewhat unsettling hospital artwork.  Not only is RW a expert in animal science, but also in art.  Who knew he was so diverse in knowledge!!
 
At that point RW decided that it had been too long and he just waltzed himself into the pre-op area and straightened the nurses out.
 
We said our good-bye's and that was it for a few hours.  Fast forward to Deb being rolled into her inpatient room.  Upon entering the room she said she was feeling pain.  We were all a little disturbed that she was feeling pain already.  RW was prompt on that...what a fighter he is!  Soon to find out that it's not that she was feeling pain right at that moment but that she didn't intend to at any point in her hospital stay..."I just thought I would stay ahead of the curve." she says.
 
After they got her all settled in Deb was all ready to be quite the hostess.  Here she was, just out of surgery asking us all how we were doing and how our waiting time was.  Sometimes her questioning coherent and other times, not so much.  We would ask Deb a question and all stare waiting for a response...waiting, waiting, and then the answer would come.  I think the drugs were delaying her response time a good 30 seconds.  Her eyes however were in perfect function getting a lot of activity.  You know how when you're really really tired and you let your eyes close and then fling them open with everything you've got and your eyes roll around in the back of your head and then fix on a stare straigt ahead.  Yeah that was Deb...over and over...until they just stayed closed.  So we were just sitting there quietly talking about something when we would hear, "Could you guys talk about something?!?  I want to listen."  So we'd start talking about something... and would glance over...Deb in deep sleep so we thought.  This demand of conversation brought about Deb's mother asking RW about the airplane.  Aaaahhh the airplane, yes, that's a great conversation...let's talk about that airplane!  This has been an issue of let's just say disagreement from day 1...Or maybe day 2 when Deb found out that it didn't actually fly yet!
 
So RW starts explaining that it's so close to being done...it only needs one solid week of work...no one's willing to commit to it...it's impossible to sell an airplane that doesn't fly...
 
Deb's mom:  "Oh so you want to sell it?"
 
RW:  "Well I wouldn't be opposed to it, yeah I would offload it."
 
At that very moment I look at Deb.  Now at this point it's been a good 5 minutes since we've heard from her or have seen any visible movement showing she's even awake.  At the very mention of selling the plane, with eyes still closed a huge smile appears.  And her eyes are forced open and stare straight at RW, as if to say, "I HEARD YOU!" And at that back out she went!  If anything could wake her that airplane could!!
 
I went back to visit the next day as well...Thankfully she was a little more with it to actually carry on a conversation in a timely manner.  Short term memory was still lacking, one sentence to the next was forgotten, but at least the 30 second delay was gone! 
 
Then, mid-conversation...
 
Deb:  "Oh, sorry I just farted!"
 
Me:  "That's nice."
 
Deb:  "Can you smell it?"
 
Me:  "No."
 
Deb:  "Oh, I can.  The nurse has been asking me if I've farted....now I can tell him YES!"
 
Thanks Deb, so happy I could experience that moment in life with you!

Taking a Shot at the Flu

So I'm guessing that RW had the dreaded H1N1 last week.  I'm guessing, because he didn't actually go to the doctor so we don't know for sure, but if the fever, cough, headache, and overcrowded sinuses are any indication, he's "been there, done that."

RW doesn't believe in the flu shot.  Not that the H1N1 shot is even available to him yet, but even if it were, he wouldn't get it.  A few years ago my dad was driving us to the airport at some horribly inhumane, sub-dawn hour and he and my dad had a little...um... disagreement about the flu shot:

RetiredSurgeonPROMedicineDAD: "Well you ARE getting the flu shot, aren't you?"

MedicinelySCEPTICALRW: "Nope.  I never get it.  I never will."

RetiredSurgeonPROMedicineDAD: "WHAT?!  Why WOULDN'T you get the flu shot?" [he seemed to have strong feelings on the issue]

Medicinely SCEPTICALRW: "My mom got sick after getting the flu shot.  I'm NOT getting it." [RW can match my dad on the intensity of feelings any day]

RetiredSurgeonPROMedicineDAD: "Well what are you going to do, PAL?  Take a bottle of HERBS?"

I'm pretty sure that last line left RW somewhat speechless.  I know I was.  To this day we can crack each other up (RW and myself, not myself & my lovely DAD) by calling each other "PAL".  Not pal.  PAAAL. Just want to make sure you get that right.

Anyways, even after being married 11 years, I can admit I have some things to learn yet.  Like a little word called EMPATHY?  Let's face it, I'm HORRIBLE when RW is sick.  I mean, I get him things and make his special tea (Joel - do you remember the special tea?) and ask him if he's ok.  I do those things.  But I must be lacking in that extra-special "I feel so sorry for you because you are so sick" sorta way. 

For example:

RW: [calling me at work late one afternoon, voice gravelly with flu] "Hey Babe... When are you coming home?  I MISS you!"

ME: "I'll be home soon, love - just finishing up a couple of things."

RW: [sounding positively LONELY] "Come home SOON!  I'm BORED.  And I MISS you."

1.5 hours later....

RW: [getting me on my cell phone] "Where ARE you?"

ME: "Almost home.. sorry Babe!  I got caught at work." [ok, read no further if you don't want to embarrass me with my ummm.... thoughlessness.  ] "I knew I could work later today because I didn't need to take the dog out."

Uh huh.  Yes.  I did actually say that.

RW: "So let me get this straight.  I'm at home SICK.  You know - maybe the THIRD sick day I've EVER taken, and you can stay LATE because you don't have to take THE DOG OUT?"

Yeah. I pretty much have no words to explain that one...

At least I didn't tell him to go take his bottle of HERBS.

Loose Lips

Last night RW was in bed before I was.  I stayed up to watch the news, and then went to bed.  Kind of.  Let's say I got into bed.  I flopped myself in just as he was turning off the light, and started talking.  And talking.  And poking.  And flopping myself again.  And more talking.

At one point I heard RW's breathing change:

ME: "HEY!  Don't go to sleep yet.  You CAN'T!  I'm STILL TALKING!"

RW: [in a somewhat deflated voice] "Don't worry.  I'm not sleeping" [as in duh.  How could I possible sleep with your 'goings-on' over here?]

ME: [Big, BIG sigh] "I CAN'T GET TO SLEEP!" [More flops.  More crazy leg movements.]

RW: [in a soothing voice] "When I can't sleep I get very quiet.  I look at the ceiling.  I think about things" [notice he said "think", not "talk"]

ME: "You don't need to INSTRUCT me on SLEEPING!"

RW: "I wasn't INSTRUCTING, I was COACHING."

And on and on it went.

Five or ten more minutes dragged by.  I was thrashing my legs about.  I was yip-yapping up a storm.  I was laughing at RW's witty remarks.  I was poking his exposed armpits.  I was generally being a pest.

ME: [finally noticing that I couldn't stay still]: "Do you think that I have Restless Leg Syndrome?"

RW: "No.  You do NOT have Restless Leg Syndrome.  You DO have Restless Lip Syndrome."

Okay then.

Funny thing.  Once I "rested" my lips, my legs stopped moving. Now I have a better understanding on why RW insists on a king-sized bed.

Put Some Kindling on that Fire

I can admit it.  When I get a "bug in my bonnet" about something, I can be quite persistent.  Just ask RW -  he will tell you.  More than you ever wanted to know.  That is why I was so successful when I was in sales - I just couldn't take no for an answer.  You've heard about it before - remember when I wanted that Wii?  RW took a different tactic on that one - he made me work for it!

Well, I have a new obsession.  The Kindle.  I pretty much try to work it into every conversation with RW.  I'm even trying a new method of bombardment this time - I put a link to the Kindle page on Amazon at the bottom of every email I send RW.  Good thing he finds this amusing, or he'd have probably changed his email address by now.

Some conversational snippets:

ME:[sitting in the car on the way to church] "Do you REMEMBER that HUGE bag of books we brought with us on our big camping trip last year?"

RW: [totally unsuspecting] "Yup"

ME: "It took up a lot of room in the back seat!"

RW: "Yup"

ME: "I remember how heavy that bag was - filled to the brim with all of our reading material for 2 weeks."

RW: "Hmm" [I don't think he was as quite as captivated as I was about this topic]

ME: [going in for the kill] "Think of how much better GAS MILEAGE we would have gotten on that trip if I had the KINDLE!"

RW: [in an eye-rolling-sort-of-tone] "So, you think the Kindle would have saved us money in the Black Hills?"

ME: "EXACTLY!"

Different conversation:

ME: [sitting on the couch watching TV] "Do you remember that trip into town to go to Borders last year when we were camping?  You know - because we didn't bring enough books and we ran out of stuff to read?"

RW: [already a little suspicious about where this was headed] "Yeessss"

ME: "If I had the KINDLE, we wouldn't have HAD to go to Borders! You know, wouldn't have had to drive 25 miles from our campsite.  I could have just FLIPPED ON the wireless feature of the Kindle and downloaded a new book!  We could have SHARED!" [yeah right]

By this time RW must have done some thinking about this.  He was... prepared for my onslaught.

RW: "So how many books does it hold?"

ME: [thinking "WOW - he's RESEARCHING now!  That's a good sign"] "1,500 or 3,000 depending on which one you buy.  Cool huh!"

RW:"And how much do these books cost?"

ME: [in a very "What a GREAT DEAL" voice] "Oh, I suppose they probably average out to about $6/book.  Some are free, some are really cheap, and some are $9.99."

RW ponders this and slowly nods.  My eyes got big with excitement.  It should have occurred to me that RW doesn't really give in that fast.  He likes to tease me for awhile first, but with visions of Kindles dancing in my eyes, all I saw was his apparent agreement.

RW: "So... what you are telling me is that this thing could cost us anywhere from $9,000 - $18,000?"

oooooh.  I didn't see THAT coming. I was completely unprepared to practice the first rule of sales - the ability to overcome any objection.  I was speechless, staring at RW with my mouth agape.  He, very proud of himself, started to laugh in a ha-I-gotchya kind of laugh.

Since that conversation, I've moved on to higher forms of persuasion.  I've looked up pretty much all the authors that he loves and loudly state that these books are available on the Kindle.  It's not over yet.  My birthday is next month - HEY - Maybe I'll suggest a Kindle!

SpiderMan

Last night I was laying in bed reading my book.  I tend to read longer than RW these days, as for some reason my formerly "go-to-sleep-immediately-and-have-no-problem-staying-asleep" body has betrayed me.  Totally and completely betrayed me.  Nowadays, being the good wife that I am, I still go to bed at the same time as RW (around 7:15 or so.  Kidding.) - because somehow staying up later than RW and watching TV or getting caught up on email pricks my conscience, and being thus unable to concentrate, head contritely up to bed. 

I will myself to turn off the lights, alternately staring at the ceiling and the digital clock, counting RW's snores and sometimes making up games to pass the wee hours of the night.  Usually the longer I lay there, the more irritated I get with the "stereo snoring".  I have RW on one side of me and ZekeTheFreakRatTerrier on the floor on the other side of me, and they snnnnooooore happily away and I am decidedly NOT happy, supremely justified in my bad attitude because they have the audacity to sleep when I cannot.

Anyway, last night I was reading my book in bed.  As a side note, someone really must come up with a better way to read in bed. OH!  Come to think of it, I have!  It involves RW buying a Kindle for me for my birthday next month.  Or before.  Surely a KINDLE would solve all my problems.  Ok, perhaps not ALL my problems, but the ones involved in crunching myself up on my side holding a heavy book up with one wrist whilst reading one side, and then balancing said book on the bed to read the other side of the page.  Good grief.  By the time my body decides that it is done enforcing it's sleepless purgatory upon me, I won't be able to sleep anyway because I'll be so crippled up from the paper book.  Thus, a Kindle.

RW's eyes got heavy and he put his book down and turned off his light.  My eyes were still operating at full-capacity.  Come to think of it, I think they thought they were just getting warmed up.  At 10:30p, my eyes were nowhere close to "getting heavy", as much as I tried to convince them that they were.  So, I kept my light on, continued my body-crippling reading as RW bounced over to my side of the bed with exuberance, and snuggled into me.  He was just drifting off into sleep...

ME: [my full-capacity eyes glancing beyond my book to the ceiling] "GROSS!!  LOOK AT THAT SPIDER!!"

RW opened one eye and glanced at the ceiling without moving his head.

ME: "Don't you see that SPIDER?"

RW: "Hmmm"

ME: "Go kill that thing!  YUK!  I'll never be able to sleep knowing there's a spider on the ceiling!" [as if I can sleep anyway, but I decided not to add that, thinking it probably wouldn't help my case]

RW: [becoming somewhat more aware of the fact that I wasn't going to let this go] "I have nothing to kill it with".

ME: [Not really jiiving with his lame excuse] "HEY - it's MOVING!!"

Now RW actually opened BOTH of his eyes and lifted his head off of the bed.  We both watched as the spider scurried a few inches towards us, suddenly dropping down and then crawling back up.

RW: "I think it's in its death throes.  He's actually dying now."

ME: "It is NOT!"

RW: [humming.  Like a zen-thing] "HMMMMMMMMMMM. Hmmmmmmmmm.  HMMMMMMMMM."

ME: [staring at him trying not to laugh] "What are you DOING?"

RW: "Calming you down, of course."

Now I did start to laugh.

ME: [in full-on make my husband kill the spider even if he IS in "trying to go sleep" mode] "Get it!  You HAVE to get it!"

RW gives a heavy sigh, lumbers out of bed and kills the spider on the ceiling.  When he got back into bed, he stayed far, far away from me.

ME: "Why aren't you snuggling me?"

RW: "You might find something else for me to do."

Oh well.  At the very least, my manly-man husband killed a spider for me.  I'm sure I'll rest easier knowing the only other creatures in my bedroom are snoring on either side of me.

She Went Wii Wii Wii All The Way to the Gym

RW and I have a semi-unspoken agreement - any item over $100 - $150 really should get buy-in (excuse the pun) from the spouse before purchasing.  RW fudges this a little bit when it comes to Napa Auto Parts (exciting as that is), and I may fudge this a little bit at Target (like the time I may have purchased a Nintendo DS when RW was out of town on business).

So... I had been trying to think of a good way to approach RW about buying a Wii.  I didn't think he would go for it because he'd figure it was a waste of time, but I really, really, REALLY want one (I know, I'm 37 and I should act like it, but I was totally and completely deprived of video games as a child and I am REALLY trying to make up for lost time).

Anyway, a few weeks ago we were sitting on the couch when I turned to RW:

ME: "I think we should get a Wii."

RW: "Why on earth do we need a Wii?"

ME: [already totally and completely prepared for this question] "Well, they have Wii FIT!  You know all that money we spend on my gym membership..."

RW: [interrupting my intriguing ideas about gym memberships] "Yes, I do know about all that money we spend on the gym membership.  USE IT." [pretty sure he was referring to the gym there, not the money - just a wild guess]

ME: "But I wouldn't NEED the gym membership if I had a Wii Fit!" [batting my eyes at RW, trying very hard to appear logical and well-thought-out]

RW: [laughing.. LAUGHING at me] "You wouldn't use the Wii Fit either."

I listened to that laugh trying to remember where I had heard it before, and then it came to me.  It was the time I bought a pair of Uggs, telling RW they were for "shoveling the driveway".  Yeah. That was the same laugh.

ME: [trying to look astonished at the very SUGGESTION] "I so WOULD use a Wii Fit! Just try me! [well, I'd use it in-between the 15 other games I'm much more interested in, but I thought the Fit part might get me a better chance.]

RW: "Here's an idea... go to the gym 5 days a week for 12 consecutive weeks, and I will buy you a Wii."

ME: "Seriously?  Let's shake on that."

Perhaps using the Wii Fit wasn't such a smart idea on my part - look where it got me (well, the gym is good and all, but 60 times in 12 weeks?).  Perhaps I should have used Mario Kart - I could have told him that it would make me a better driver.  I just may have gotten more immediate results.

Meanwhile I have now entered "Week 3".  Just 9 long weeksto go.  I wonder how many visits to the gym it would take to get me a dishwasher? Just wondering.

Confessions of a Sugarholic

Remember how I said in my last post that RW has a trust problem when it comes to food in our house?  He may have a good reason.  I have a little confession to make – a short tale to tell.

You know that silly tradition of keeping the very top of one’s wedding cake to eat on your one-year anniversary?  Well, we kept our wedding cake top.  It almost didn’t survive our honeymoon.  When we came home from our wedding, the cake top and the uncut grooms cake [which was in the shape of California – a real feat] came with us.  I asked RW to put them in the freezer.  This was my first lesson in specificity as a new wife.  I just happened to open the freezer before leaving for our 2-week honeymoon to Mexico.  The 2 cakes were in there.  Sort of shoved in there.  They had no Saran wrap on them.  They had nothing on them.  Just cake.  Shoved in the freezer.  After staring at them in disbelief, I delicately finagled them out of the freezer and wrapped them up, making a mental note that in the future I may need to be more specific in my instructions.

Fast-forward a few months.  RW and I were going through a health phase and had decided to eat vegetarian [did you know that you can use ground up cashews for just about anything?  I just can’t imagine how I gained 10 pounds being a vegetarian].  Anyway, apparently we had decided that sugar wasn’t allowed, even though as far as I knew, sugar wasn’t made of meat products…  So, aside from the 20 pound pail of cashews, we didn’t have any snacks in the house.

This is a problem for a sugarholic.  When a sugarholic doesn’t get fed sugar, one becomes creative.  Remember that cake top?  That cake top we were going to eat on our 1-year anniversary?  I started eating it.  I ate everything you couldn’t see when you opened the freezer, i.e the back half.  Frosting?  GONE.  Cake? GONE. 

I started sweating it a bit as our anniversary got closer and closer.  The Day of Doom arrived and RW decided that NOW was the time to feed ourselves little morsels of year-old, freezer burned cake, because that is SO romantic.  I stood there, transfixed – frozen in an odd mixture of dread and giddy anticipation, while RW opened the freezer. There before us sat the cake top.  Perfect. Frosting delicately woven in that bridal cake way.  Frozen broccoli arranged ‘just so’ around the sides of it.  And then it was lifted out and set on the counter.

Silence.

RW: “Honey?  I THINK we have an issue.

ME: [sputtering] “Yes? What’s wrong?”

RW: “Call the exterminator. We must have a rat in the freezer.”

And THAT, my friends, is how RW developed that little, teeny-weeny trust problem.