That’s a picture of half of my walk-in closet collapsed to the ground. It was taken relatively soon after we bought our house and not much later…various other pieces started collapsing as well. Up until last month we had no more hanger space than the average NON-walk-in closet because so many of the other pieces had fallen off the wall or were simply too wobbly to use. This is why the closet renovation is a must before we sell the house. It’s currently useless.
One good thing it offered, however, was a room to get ready in when the other person was still sleeping. I don’t think I realized how much we used it for that until we no longer had it. We currently have everything from the closet spread across our bedroom and MrZ has the closet taped and covered in plastic for painting. Most mornings I get up first so I just try to grab what I need and get ready in the bathroom by the kitchen. MrZ tried a different technique this morning. He simply turned on the light in the bedroom at 4am while he gathered his things to go swimming. Since this is a very rude gesture when someone is still sleeping (4am!), he decided the best road to take to keep from waking me was to make me think he was trying to murder me in my sleep.
Well…I’m sure that’s not what he was thinking. But let me tell you: When I felt him place a pillow over my face? While I was in the unable-to-process-events-logically state of awareness? I totally had an adrenaline rush and the sudden horrific thought that, Oh no! He’s had enough me wearing my houseshoes all day! He’s trying to kill me! And that was officially the worst way I’ve every woken up from sleep in my entire life.
Also…this is how a very kind gesture can be interpreted as a homicidal one. In case you were ever wondering.
So, instead of doing the snarky My Family Sucks At Basic Household Chores type of entry, I’m going to do something a little less mean towards my husband. You know…just in case.
Blog Entry Option #2: Cute Video Of My Kids Getting Hopped Up On Cake Poppers
My kids were eating some cake poppers I made and I decided to interview them about it. I promise the smile my son gives you at the end of the video makes it all worth it.
At 8am this morning (Central Time), MrZ will be starting his half-marathon. He’s registered to run his first marathon in December but he’s had some injury issues and this will be the longest run he’s done since the first of October. (He ran 20 miles then.) He’s frustrated with himself and really putting a lot of weight in how he does today. Part of him feels like if today doesn’t go well he should just postpone his marathon attempt until he’s in better health. The other part of him wants to get this monkey off his back already as he’s been trying to train for a marathon for two years now but keeps running into injury issues. Either way – today is a big day for him. Please keep him in your thoughts.
The weather should be perfect which kinda pisses me off as it was perfect for him the last time he ran this race. The year I ran it? WORST RUNNING WEATHER EVER. It was raining and frigid for the entire race. I practically cried the last several miles I was so miserable. Yet, somehow, when he runs the race? Mother Nature hands him sunshine and cool (but not cold!) temperatures on a silver platter. More proof that I believe the universe is entertained by my misery.
I painted signs to hold to cheer him on today. I’ll try to make four different points of the course to wait for him. He doesn’t depend on spectator support but I totally loved it so I do what I can to provide it. I also have one point where I get to wait for him to turn back around so I get to cheer for the back part of that pack – which is where I always am when I race. Let me tell you as someone who is usually in the very back of the pack? Having random strangers cheer for you is the BEST THING EVER. So, I try to do what I can for my comrades with the slower pace.
Think about him and all of the runners today. And for all of you training to run the half-marathon with Linda in New Orleans? I’ll be thinking of all of you today too. Wishing I could be there in March to hold signs and scream like a maniac for all of you.
6 years ago today MrZ and I were married. It was a small-ish wedding. We just got a friend of a friend to take pictures but we had two kegs at the reception. I made my wedding cake out of Krispy Kreme Donuts but we had a DJ and a dance floor. The wedding was very us in that we chose every detail. I remember all of the us details as vividly as I did that day. MrZ forgot the wedding bands and my Dad had to rush him back to the apartment before the ceremony to get them. LilZ walked me down the aisle with my Dad, I took the kids in the neighborhood in the limo that morning to say “Thanks!” for all of the help they gave me making favors and decorations. I skipped the veil but wore fake fingernails. I cried like a baby when I kissed MrZ and did a “WHOOOOOOO!” when they announced us as Man and Wife. We left the wedding to “I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is Gone” which still gives me goosebumps when I hear it. I tripped walking down the aisle. I danced all night long and wore hot pink butterfly shoes under my dress. LilZ still says it was one of the most fun days of his life. My Dad always said it was the best wedding he had ever been too. I married my best friend that day.
Evidently the traditional 6th anniversary gifts are supposed to either revolve around sugar or iron. (Really? Who makes this shit up?) Since I don’t weld, I opted to stay up until 1am making him the perfect gift. They turned out damn good, if I do say so myself. There won’t be any fanfare around today, we rarely do anything for our anniversary…but I did want to take a moment to at least celebrate it on the blog. That’s how I roll…you know.
Many moons ago, when LilZ was playing soccer (and hating every minute of it) MrZ had to have a talk with me. He informed me that he didn’t think it was a good idea that I constantly joke about LilZ inheriting his clumsiness or lack of grace from me. “He may have gotten that from you, but you might remove any possibility that he overcome that if you keep joking about it.” Something to definitely think about. Yes, his soccer playing reminded me a lot of my own as a child. Struggling to run and kick simultaneously. Yes, he sometimes tripped over imaginary objects. Yes, he often ran into things that had not ever moved – like walls in our home. All of these things indicated a strong Zoot-ness in his grace, but why should I point that out? MrZ had a good point, if I gave him that excuse early on, he might not ever feel like he can move past it. Imprisoning him to a lifetime of bruised knees and scraped elbows.
SO – you will not hear me say those things ever often regarding any of my children. At least not if their in earshot. No matter how much it may be warranted.
However…
If I were going to? This would be one of those weekends I’d be joking about it. There were bonked heads on tables that had never moved. There were scraped knees tripping over flat concrete. There was a bloody lip and a bloody toe. One child went to bed last night with an icepack on their food while another went to bed looking like they had gone a few rounds in the ring with a heavyweight champ. Let’s just say this: There Was Not A Lot Of Graceful Performances This Weekend. Maybe the floors were all slippery. Inside and out. Maybe there were shifts in the gravitational pull that threw certain children off-balance. Maybe elves secretly moved walls in our home while we slept. Whatever the cause…this was a weekend of blood and bruises.
Or maybe, a certain parent passed on a few clumsy genes. Not that I would ever imply that while the kids were listening – of course. But if I did?
She starts dance class today. It’s just a week-long introduction to see if she likes it. (Everyone in our family says simultaneously: Oh, She’ll like it.) I didn’t want to sign her up for anything for next year until I let her test it out a bit. Just in case her predilection for dancing doesn’t carry over to formal instruction.
Unfortunately, classes like this are only offered during the day. So, I have to work a wacky schedule this week (or at least the days I take her) that will have me bringing her to work with me (in her dance clothes) and then taking an extended lunch break (at 9am) to get her too dance class and then to school afterwards. I’ll have to work until 5pm those nights (I usually work 7-4) to make up for the extended lunch. I’m essentially telling you all of this so you will understand if I don’t post as frequently. Or if all I post is adorable videos of my daughter tap dancing.
I also wanted a lead-in for a story from this weekend. This story is better told by my husband but since he doesn’t have a blog I’ll try to do it justice so that we have it documented when we need firepower for the teen years.
This weekend MrZ and NikkiZ were dancing. She starting some “freestylin’” as MrZ put it and ran across the room and punched him right where no guy wants to be punched. He let out a wail and through clenched teeth asked her to go to her room and said he’d be in there in a minute to talk with her. He wasn’t sure if she knew what was wrong about the punch she threw, but he couldn’t talk to her at that moment. He gave it a few minutes and went back to her room where he found her sobbing hysterically.
MrZ: Do you know what you did that was wrong?
NikkiZ: Yeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh…(Said in her wailing sob)
MrZ: What?
NikkiZ: I punched you in the BAGINAAAAAA…
MrZ: Close enough.
