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same_skyM: Do you want to?
K: I don't know, do you want to?
M: Ummm... yes. Damn it, it's quality time. Hop to it, bitch.
We are very sweet to each other in this household but I think maybe most people would think otherwise if they eavesdropped. The conversation in question was related to our discussion on whether or not to light a fire and read on the couch with the Christmas tree twinkling merrily in the background. I was saying earlier that we should endeavor to spend more quality time together, as we may have a decrease in the amount of time we have to just be US in the near future. M apparently agrees, but in a more manly sort of way. (By the way, "bitch" is not used as an insult in our house.. before you all start thinking that I'm married to an abusive sort.)
Would you like to hear a wonderful story? I didn't link to it at the time I read it because I was in the closet, so to speak, about my own pregnancy, and I couldn't say what I wanted to about it. I Interrupt This Interruption. She's the mother of two-year-old triplets. She was in the middle of posting installment entries about her pregnancy with the babies two years before when she had to interrupt herself to care for her puking-illness babies. For two weeks. (Can you imagine?) I really enjoyed the pregnancy entries, too. You should read those when you're done with the first link. Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V. Post-infertility surprise pregnancies are high on my list of favorite blog entries to read, and hers was a particularly special one, I think.
Anyway, I was so clever, thinking about going to bed with clean sheets and how lovely that would be, so I threw everything into the washer this afternoon. Then we went furniture shopping and picked up some groceries, and I totally forgot about all things laundry. M remembered it after nine, so we are now waiting for them to finish drying in order to go to bed. Well, I am. M always stays up late on Sunday nights. We have an extra set of sheets, but we washed the mattress pad so we're kind of stuck anyway.
We've decided that we should bite the bullet and buy some bedroom furniture. Our bedroom is the weakest link in the house, furniture-wise, for several different reasons. We were going back and forth on whether to buy a king-sized bed or not. We talked ourselves into and out of it with regularity. My mom called this morning to ask if we wanted a new queen-sized mattress. The one we have is worn out and hideously warped. Quiet there in the peanut gallery. It was an inexpensive mattress--my parents bought it for us when we got married. (My parents pretty much rock. They also bought the couch at the same time.) They had bought this set at a charity fire fighter's auction recently, and they didn't need them. I'm not sure why they do that because they once bought a recliner for the same reason, and it is now sitting in our living room. So, we made an Official Decision to stop worrying about it and go with the size we have. This clears us up to buy furniture, since we were not doing that while we didn't know what we were going to do. Now, the hard part is finding something we like. And not talking ourselves out of it again. I am especially bad for doing this.
If you were a set of funky Christmas cards that I bought at an after-Christmas sale last year and did not get stored with the rest of the Christmas decorations and cards, where would you be? I know that I have seen them at some point since we moved, and I thought, "oh, I need to make sure I remember where I put this!" And then... I didn't. And it is time to send them now, and I haven't the faintest idea where they would have gone to. There are big problems here in my world, can't you tell?
K: I don't know, do you want to?
M: Ummm... yes. Damn it, it's quality time. Hop to it, bitch.
We are very sweet to each other in this household but I think maybe most people would think otherwise if they eavesdropped. The conversation in question was related to our discussion on whether or not to light a fire and read on the couch with the Christmas tree twinkling merrily in the background. I was saying earlier that we should endeavor to spend more quality time together, as we may have a decrease in the amount of time we have to just be US in the near future. M apparently agrees, but in a more manly sort of way. (By the way, "bitch" is not used as an insult in our house.. before you all start thinking that I'm married to an abusive sort.)
Would you like to hear a wonderful story? I didn't link to it at the time I read it because I was in the closet, so to speak, about my own pregnancy, and I couldn't say what I wanted to about it. I Interrupt This Interruption. She's the mother of two-year-old triplets. She was in the middle of posting installment entries about her pregnancy with the babies two years before when she had to interrupt herself to care for her puking-illness babies. For two weeks. (Can you imagine?) I really enjoyed the pregnancy entries, too. You should read those when you're done with the first link. Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V. Post-infertility surprise pregnancies are high on my list of favorite blog entries to read, and hers was a particularly special one, I think.
Anyway, I was so clever, thinking about going to bed with clean sheets and how lovely that would be, so I threw everything into the washer this afternoon. Then we went furniture shopping and picked up some groceries, and I totally forgot about all things laundry. M remembered it after nine, so we are now waiting for them to finish drying in order to go to bed. Well, I am. M always stays up late on Sunday nights. We have an extra set of sheets, but we washed the mattress pad so we're kind of stuck anyway.
We've decided that we should bite the bullet and buy some bedroom furniture. Our bedroom is the weakest link in the house, furniture-wise, for several different reasons. We were going back and forth on whether to buy a king-sized bed or not. We talked ourselves into and out of it with regularity. My mom called this morning to ask if we wanted a new queen-sized mattress. The one we have is worn out and hideously warped. Quiet there in the peanut gallery. It was an inexpensive mattress--my parents bought it for us when we got married. (My parents pretty much rock. They also bought the couch at the same time.) They had bought this set at a charity fire fighter's auction recently, and they didn't need them. I'm not sure why they do that because they once bought a recliner for the same reason, and it is now sitting in our living room. So, we made an Official Decision to stop worrying about it and go with the size we have. This clears us up to buy furniture, since we were not doing that while we didn't know what we were going to do. Now, the hard part is finding something we like. And not talking ourselves out of it again. I am especially bad for doing this.
If you were a set of funky Christmas cards that I bought at an after-Christmas sale last year and did not get stored with the rest of the Christmas decorations and cards, where would you be? I know that I have seen them at some point since we moved, and I thought, "oh, I need to make sure I remember where I put this!" And then... I didn't. And it is time to send them now, and I haven't the faintest idea where they would have gone to. There are big problems here in my world, can't you tell?
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-04 09:50 am (UTC)That blog is lovely, thanks for sharing it, I love reading those too although bizarrely adoption ones are my favourite... not sure what that means... :)
no subject
Date: 2006-12-13 05:03 am (UTC)