When MrZ and I met, we were both very much Type A Control Freaks. The main difference was that he’s also a perfectionist. I may have wanted it done my way, but my way seemed to always allow for me slacking than his way did. I like to say I was a Lazy Control Freak.

This made it so that over the next 10 years, his way won out more often than not. Because, let’s face it, if we’re both right, but he’s also perfect, then chance are his way is going to be the better option. This has lessened my need for control over the years which is better in many ways since MrZ – in general – has better taste than I do. And the things that he doesn’t care about? Don’t have to be perfect. This is good for me because the things he doesn’t care about? Are the things I do. So I can still do them lazily. Most of my domestic chores, cleaning especially, is done to my standards…NOT PERFECT. This suits both of us because he doesn’t really care about perfection in the Clean House area.

The time this balance does not work? Is when it’s a chore I have to do due to the SAHM convenience, but it’s something he cares about. In other words, he would like to be doing it but can’t because he works in an office. Like mowing the lawn. I do that since I’m at home and I know it kills him I don’t do it in the systematic even smooth way he likes. But you know? I’m doing it. It will need to be done again in a week so no one gets stressed out too much. But it does bother him.

Now we’re at a point where it causes us a big problem: MY PAINTING. MrZ does not have the time to paint the new house. The new house needs to be painted and we’d rather do it before we move in. We can’t afford to hire someone to paint the entire house. And it all has to be done in 11 days. This means I have to do it. And this is killing him. Every time I paint a room I leave behind drips and uneven lines and smudged trim. I try not to, but it’s hard not to when that natural propensity to perfection is not part of your psyche. This means MrZ spends the rest of his life seeing those errors and thinking about them. THEY EAT AT HIS SOUL. Trust me. I painted the bathroom in our old house a few weeks ago and he has reminded me no less than 75 million times that if I wouldn’t put so much paint on the roller it wouldn’t leave drips.

I didn’t care too bad, we’re leaving that house.

The new house, however, I’m trying so hard to be perfect. AND IT’S KILLING ME. First, there are drips already on the walls from the previous painters. Second, this is me and I just am not a perfect painter. I’m trying, I’m trying so hard, but I’m just not perfect. Luckily, we decided the compromise would be to hire someone for the common rooms MrZ would be in a lot and let me do the kids rooms. He can live with errors there since those rooms will get destroyed over the years anyway. But it’s making me crazy because everything he steps near the walls I’m painting I’m already screaming, “Don’t point out the mistakes or I’ll rip your eyeballs out!”

This is me cutting him off before he gets a chance to say: Looks good, Kim.

He’s trying to be nice, but we both know that he sees the errors and my point of all of this? I’ll be happy when we’re done. Then the mistakes are there and it’s his job to live with them. Right now I still have so much to do I’m still stressing about being perfect. In the end? I’m not the perfectionist so it’s impossible to be perfect. Somehow he can do it – I’ve seen his work. No drips. No smudges. Same tools as me. But, he knows he’s lucky I’m doing this so he tries not to say anything negative even though we both know he’s thinking it.

*sigh*

Please tell me someone out there is also married to a perfectionist that knows what I’m talking about? And then let me know if they’ll be will to come paint for me for a few days. Thanks.

Many moons ago I took this picture:

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

All About The Cake Poppers from zoot on Vimeo.

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.

Is there anything cuter than kids in footed PJs?

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.

Happy Anniversary, hon. Love ya.

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?

I’d totally blame the one with the goatee.