Reason 419 That I Miss Living In My Mom’s House

When the fires in San Diego flared up, we made an early morning decision to pack up and move to Mom's house in a more southeast section of San Diego county. It was mostly so we could keep me out of the smoke and soot that seemed to be all around us but also just for peace of mind. Our section of Poway was never "officially" evacuated, we were this 1 small square of land on a map that wasn't pink (pink=evacuated), although some neighbors received Reverse 911 calls.

Packing your belonging is, of course, an interesting experience. I remembered the framed picture of my dad as a little boy but forgot my toothbrush. I grabbed all of the quilts that David's Grandmother has made but they never actually MADE it to the car. And then, there's the fact that I completely overlooked packing ANY of my sister's beautiful artwork-but I got every single one of the kids' "Cars Movie" die cast metal cars.

Once we got to my mom's house, it was nice to feel safe, breathe relatively clean air and just relax. I was thankful David didn't have to go to work. And then, there was the REAL reason to be happy:

Every night we were at Mom's I took a soak in this bathtub of beauty. It was wonderful. I read books and wondered how long I could stay in the tub before I shriveled up like a raisin. This tub was so deep that if you filled it to capacity, you had to try to hold on or you'd float. It was not hard to reach the perfect balance of hot and cold water (but one night I over "essence oil-ed" with the Spearamint oil and no matter how hot the water was, my whole body was minty-cold-fresh.)

Now that we are home, I am happy to be living in a place that is more Toddler-ized with my own bed and things around me (like a toothbrush but more on that another time) but my bathtub is just not up to par.

And my mom lives too far away to make a nightly drive just for a tub soak.

Go Fug Yourself...No Really, You Should!

The blog that I am currently obsessed with (at least for this week) is a site called "Go Fug Yourself." It is a place where celebrity fashions are reviewed in a snarky and hilarious manner. And if you know anything about me, then you know that not only did I fall in love because of the snark but I also fell in love because I think the word "fugly" is the funniest word ever. (Although not one I have in regular rotation in my personal vocabuary.)

All of this is to say, go check it out.
And laugh.
And wonder if George Clooney really is their intern.
And think how you want to be their best friends.

And start with this post that actually made me laugh out loud.
Lion For Fugs

And That's Why He's MY David

The day I told David that I wanted to marry him was July 4, 1995. I don't think, if you'd asked me then, if I would have been able to give you a detailed list as to WHY. So much of it just "felt right." I was 18, in love and young. Probably too young to even make up my mind about matters of the heart.

David and I got engaged about a year later and married a year after that. This year we celebrated 10 years of marriage. There isn't a whole lot that completely surprises me anymore-although every once in awhile he will pull something out of left field and try to find a function for all the leftover crusts cut off star shaped sandwiches for a birthday party.

Tomorrow the local firehouse is going to have an Open House. David planned to take Nathan and Nicholas to the Open House ("Mommy! We might even get to slide down the pole!") and possibly to the Miramar Air Show as well. David is excited to take the boys and Nathan has been talking about the firehouse for many days.

At work today, a coworker asked if David could cover a meeting tomorrow morning. It would only be a couple of hours and if David covered it, the co-worker would give us a very large gift certificate to any restaurant we desired.

After 10 years of marriage, 2 years of dating and more "moments of truth" in those years than an average Lifetime movie, I was not surprised to hear that David and my boys will be at the firehouse tomorrow.

He can lose all his hair, he can gain over 50 pounds, he can become a mouth breather even but no matter what, he will always be the most handsome, most wonderful, most amazing man I have ever known. And I don't think I could love him more than I do right now.

First One to Get a Clogged Artery Wins!

Him: I got the results of my blood work from my physical today.

Me: Oh good, what do they say?

Him: Wow. My cholesterol is high. My triglycerides are too.

Me: How high? WOAH! I totally won that one. Mine aren't nearly that high!

Him: What did you get for Glucose? I got a 76.

Me: Ha! 72. I win again. What about Creatinine?

Him: What is that?

Me: Doesn't matter, fess up!

Him: I got a 1.0.

Me: Woo Hoo! I got a 0.9.

Him: But maybe we WANT that one to be high!

Me: Don't go making up rules because you are losing.

Him: Whatever. Potassium?

Me: 4.0.

Him: Me too. It's a tie.

Me: OK, I'll give you that one. But your cholesterol and stuff, we need to really do something about that.

Him: The letter here suggests "lifestyle changes." And I need to make a follow up appointment with the doctor.

Me: Sounds like a good plan.............Hey, can you finish off these cheezy scrambled eggs and buttered sourdough toast for dinner?

Introducing...Lunch

I am such a cliche.