Thursday, February 27, 2014

Hives.....

Noun1.hives - an itchy skin eruption characterized by weals with pale interiors and well-defined red marginshives - an itchy skin eruption characterized by weals with pale interiors and well-defined red margins; usually the result of an allergic response to insect bites or food or drugs

Thank you  ----  http://www.thefreedictionary.com/ ---- for the description....

As a somewhat health conscious (paranoid) individual I have always preached to Karla that you should voluntarily adopt a healthy lifestyle and not wait for a doctor to tell you that you have to.

I have continued to preach this as Karla would make what used to be her daily ritual of going to the gas station every morning for a big 20 oz. Diet Dr. Pepper and a pack of Nutty Bars.

I continued to preach this as I worked out four days a week and Karla, well, didn't.

I really started preaching when we recently hit our forties.....

And I really, really, started preaching when friends started coming down with medical conditions that I thought we wouldn't have to deal with for at least another ten or fifteen years.

But trying to get someone to adopt and appreciate a healthy lifestyle that doesn't really have an interest in doing so is kind of like trying to nail Jell-O to a wall.

Karla feels the same way about me when we talk about money.  I have no interest in reading her T. Rowe Price magazine and pouring over charts and projections.  I think I would almost rather run a rusty nail through my foot than talk about the power of compound interest and the value of a Roth IRA.

So, while frustrating, I do understand that a lifestyle choice really has to be something that you are passionate about.  Karla, to put it mildly, is not passionate about eating healthy and working out.

But I can't help but preach......because I worry.

Enter Mr. Food Allergy......My new (albeit really strange) best friend.

Last fall, Karla started breaking out into hives.  At first she thought that it was job/stress related and was confident that once everything settled down the hives would clear up and everything would be ok.

Things at work settled down ---- the hives, however, in all their itchy, red glory, didn't go away.

To watch your dog itch and writhe and grunt is bothersome......To watch your wife itch, writhe and grunt will drive you absolutely crazy.

"You know what, dear, I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

So once it was confirmed that occupational stress had nothing to do with Karla's hives the only thing left to do was to tackle her eating habits.  This pleased me greatly.....  (I only smiled behind her back)

I asked her if she was going to see a doctor.  Her response?  "No, he'll just tell me to eliminate all processed food and work them back in gradually....I got this."

Oh.....well, ok then.

Long story short; we have discovered that processed foods (duh), bread, and pasta are a no-no.

Sadly, that means no more Piasano's......I really love that place.  :(

Really super sadly...Pizza is the king of all no's......Dammit man.

Mexican food is okay as long as Karla eats corn and not flour tortillas.

She can eat a hamburger as long as she removes the bun. (Kind of pointless, I feel)

Still haven't quite figured out the Chinese food....That's been hit and miss.

Of course, the best option is to not eat out at all and, to be honest, when going out to eat starts to feel like dietary Russian roulette it's simply not worth it.

When Karla started revamping our menu at home the end result was a healthy dose of beans.....Lots and lots and (sigh) lots of beans.

Home made bean and cheese burritos.  Black bean soup. Chili (never thought I would get sick of chili). Red beans and rice. Beans, beans, beans, and more mother effing beans......

Why?  Hell, I have no idea.....Maybe it was on sale........

Please, for the love of Pete, no more beans for awhile.....When your teenage son says that he is tired of farting that should tell you that we need to lay off the freaking beans.

But, beans aside, Karla's new diet, coupled with a Zumba routine five day a week, has been paying out some nice dividends.  In less than two months Karla has lost weight and, most importantly, she has not had any issues with hives.

Now that everything seems to be back under control I find it amusing/somewhat aggravating that an itchy rash can make a bigger impression on Karla than anything I have been saying for years about adopting a healthy lifestyle could.

But, that's ok.....What important is that she's eating healthier.  Life is good.

Now if Toby could somehow break out into hives every time he misses the toilet....That would be awesome..  :)

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Working on commission...

One of the things Karla and I learned from Mr. Dave Ramsey via Financial Peace University is that kids should not be given an allowance; they should work on commission.

Now there are those that strongly believe that children should do work around the house for free just to be a contributing member of the family; and to those people I say that I whole heartedly agree.  There is nothing wrong with a kid rolling up his/her sleeves and doing a job just because it is their part of being a family member.

My reason for making the kids work for a commission is very simple.....I do not want to just give them money.

Here is one of the definitions of allowance in the online dictionary (Thank you, dictionary.com):

a sum of money allotted or granted to a person on a regular basis, as for personal or general living expenses

By definition, the word allowance simply won't work for me.  I don't like the idea of my kids being allotted or granted anything; if they want it, they are going to have to earn it.  Plus, if they happen to learn some lessons about money along the way......
When Karla and I were both full time employees we always tried to keep a chore chart for the kids.  But then life would get crazy and the charts always managed to fall by the way side.

But now that I am home there will always be someone to stay on top of the charts and keep track of each kid's commission.

The chore chart is an awesome way to teach responsibility.  I don't tell either of the kids anything.  I don't remind them that they have chores to do.  I simply check the chore chart at the end of each day and double check the work that they performed.

If they didn't perform their daily tasks, they lose their allowance their commission for that day.

If they performed their daily tasks in a sub par manner, they lose their commission....(I'm actually fairly lenient on this one, although I probably shouldn't be)

If they performed the task but didn't check it off on the chore chart, they lose their commission for that day.  I like to refer to this part as the life isn't fair lesson, or sometimes I will call it the CYA (cover your ass) lesson.  Or sometimes I'll just say, tough shit, get over it......

Nope....Life's not all hugs and puppies.  I would rather they learn that lesson from me than for them to find themselves in a pinch when they are out on their own.

(Another rule that helps keep the house clean is the 24 hour rule.  If one of the kids leaves something laying around and it is there for more that 24 hours it gets "impounded" and a fee will have to be paid in order bail it out....I charge .25 cents an item......Clutter has not been a problem for a while now.)

When you combine the chore chart with the 50/50 rule you end up with a very powerful teaching tool in regards to financial and personal responsibility.

The 50/50 rule is another outstanding parenting tool that we borrowed from Karla's parents.  Here's how it works;  We tell the kids that if they can save half the money for any item over 'x' amount of dollars then we will cover the other half.

This is a great rule for a few reasons.

1.  Kids want a lot of things, and those things get more expensive the older they get.  Now I don't have a problem with getting them a nice Christmas or birthday present, but the rest of the year the kids need to learn how to be patient and save for those big things that they want.  The one thing I don't want them to get used to is unearned gratification.

     I do realize that kids simply don't have the resources to earn the kind of money they need to get something like an Xbox or a laptop.  If they were solely responsible for those things they would get frustrated and give up.  It's unreasonable to ask a kid to save for that long.  That's why Karla and I chip in half.  We did have to start specifying that we would pay half on anything educational after Toby proved to be a savvy saver and we had to spring for half a laptop and half a trampoline within a 12 month period.  He also managed to get a TV and a mini refrigerator out of us before we reassessed and put new rules in place to keep him from breaking our budget.

2.  Once they have scraped and pinched and saved for their big purchase, I guarantee they will take better care of their purchase as opposed to if it were just given to them.  The kids realize just how long it took for them to save for the item and will have no desire to repeat the lengthy process.  They want to save for the next purchase!  :)

3. They will get a head start in learning the value of a dollar.  Make a kid save for an item and suddenly you will find them pouring through sale ads and surfing the net for a deal.

    When Toby starting saving for his laptop at nine years of age, he got on line and learned about hard drive capacity, memory, processor performance, graphics cards, etc. etc.  He would have never learned that had we just bought him the laptop.

    In short, Toby started to learn how to get the biggest bang for his buck.


Karla and I have found that combining the 50/50 rule with the chore chart is a great way of showing our punks that money does not grow on trees and that they should never expect anything to be just given to them.  It gives them a small idea of what it's like to work for a living and the importance of performing a task to the best of their abilities....I haven't had to fire either one of them yet...  :)


This summer we plan on expanding and getting more aggressive about teaching financial responsibility.

 Toby now has his own checking account and is responsible for paying for anything school related out of his own pocket.  He will be responsible for ledgering all of his checks, keeping receipts and documenting all purchases made with his debit card.....I have to admit....The debit card makes me nervous.  But, as I stated earlier, it's better that he take his lumps now as opposed to later.

After I spent the entire blog saying I don't want to just allot or grant anything to my kids we are making one small concession.  Toby has reached the age where he is very picky about his attire -- so much so that he has successfully aggravated the shit out of his mother.

So now Toby now gets a clothing allowance once every six months so that Karla won't throttle him every time he tells her that her latest purchase sucks and he doesn't want to wear it.  (Actually, Toby would just say that he doesn't care for it....Tera would most definitely tell Karla that it sucks)

But the clothing allowance, which we started last summer, is already paying big dividends.  Suddenly Toby's insatiable desire to buy every pair of shoes Nike makes has been greatly curtailed.  He now goes into the stores looking for sales and tags that say 50% off on them.  Now, hand me downs from his cousin aren't such a bad thing.

And he isn't asking for a new pair of shorts every pay day.

We won't be that aggressive with Tera, given she is only nine.  But with our tournament schedule starting in April and running through June there will be plenty of opportunities for her to ask for something out of the concession stand......

Sorry, kid, you're going to have to spend your own money on that.  However, I do have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a home made granola bar or trail mix that you can have.  And a non carbonated drink like water doesn't taste bad at all once you get used to it.

I can just see the look on her face now......"Fine, whatever."  And then she will snatch the sandwich out of my hands and eat it with great disgust....Om, nom nom.....

But Tera, being a bright kid and a little bit of a travel hound, knows that we will take a vacation somewhere at least once over the summer.  I know her....She will save the money to purchase a memento.  She always does.


I have no idea if what Karla and I are trying to do in regards to teaching our kids financial responsibility will turn out to be successful....Only time will tell.

But we can at least say we tried.



Thursday, February 13, 2014

Opposites attract.....Happy Valentine's Day

As another Valentine's Day comes and goes I sit back and marvel over how much I've changed since Karla and I became a couple.

It's crazy to think that I was seventeen and Karla was fifteen when we started dating; just pups.  I think I would have a heart attack if Tera were to be in a relationship as serious as ours was as such a tender age.

I wonder how Tera would handle living in a convent?  (Just kidding.....sort of....No, I'm kidding.......Maybe)

If not for Karla I would have never left the small town I grew up in.  I would never have traveled and seen what the world had to offer.  I would have never been open minded about trying new things --- (well, almost open minded....I'll at least consider now.)

I have, overall, become a much better person because of Karla.....

Not that the whole experience hasn't had it's drawbacks.  I still struggle with anything that deals with a healthy dose of  hobnobbing (something Karla is very adept at).  Company parties, fund raisers  --- just about anything where I have to use small talk is still a nightmare scenario for me....

I am just not a small talk person.  I can't just shake hands with someone and rattle on and on and on about anything from work to hobbies to family.  If I don't know you, or if I know you but haven't seen you in a long time, I find whole process exceedingly difficult.....Unless I've already slammed a few beers, then I'm ok.

So Karla has come to accept that if she can at least get forty five minutes to an hour out of me then all is well...She will then release me so that I may either go home or to our hotel room; never to be seen or heard from again...

The one thing that she really pushed me on is traveling; and I have grown to almost love it.  If I could just somehow skip the airport I would be more than happy to travel all the time.

Over the years Karla has learned that, while planning out a vacation, she has to work in some down time for me.  If she doesn't, by the end of day two of vacation I get really tired and surly.  I have to have some time to myself in a quiet setting or things start to unravel.

Karla, just like her Dad, is an insane planner. (And I mean that with the greatest affection) If she had her way the vacation itinerary would begin at the ass crack of dawn with a set time and duration of stay for every place we go to.  We would have a half an hour to wolf down lunch and then resume hauling ass from one place to the next until the sun went down.

I wouldn't have any idea what we were eating for supper because I would be taking advantage of the down time to get a nap in.

Oh.....we had steak?  I'll take your word for it.

Then we get back to the hotel room late at night and while I am already passed out in one bed; Karla is sitting crossed legged in the other, pen in mouth, area map spread out and things to do brochures scattered everywhere.

I fall asleep to the sound of, "And then when we finish here we can go........."

ZZZZZZZZZ

One of the best parts of having kids is that both Tera and Toby love amusement park rides; which means Karla now has someone to ride with.  The latest trip to Disney World was a blast.  Karla and the kids got on the rides while I, for the most part, sat on a bench and waited for them.

(I did manage to get on a few....and only regretted getting on one.  I'll never trust the kids again.)

I suffer from motion sickness and while I am aware that I could take a pill, get on the rides, and be just fine the drawback is that the pills, while not completely knocking me out, make me very groggy. Which really just kills the vacation.

(I have since discovered the patch....But that is a story for another day.)

I remember when Karla and I went to Disney World before kids.  There was this ride called Body Wars that Karla wanted us to get on.

I distinctly remember reading the sign in big letters clearly stating that if you suffer from motion sickness then this is most definitely not the ride for you.

"Um, dear....I don't think I should do this."

To this day, I can hear her response as plain as day.

"Don't be a pussy.....Get on."

"What did you say?"

Well, my manhood had been challenged.....What choice did I have?

The Angel was on one shoulder pleading with me to listen to the voice of reason.

"Tom, do not be tempted by her foul words....You know this ride will render you utterly useless.  Please, I beg of you."

The Devil was on the other shoulder.

"Did you hear what she said to you?  Are you just going to take that?  You have to prove yourself.  If you don't get on that ride you may as well just stuff your testicles into her purse.....Well, unless they are already there....You wuss."

Needles to say, Pride won out.

The Body Wars is/was a simulator ride.  There is a large movie screen in front of you and your chair, or in this case the entire ride, moves in correspondence with the actions performed on the screen.

"Well, this doesn't seem so bad." I thought as I buckled myself into the chair.

The buckle.....Yes, the buckle should have clued me in.

The movie on the screen started and some guy was going on and on about how we were being shrunk down so that we can ride a body probe vehicle inside the human body to do....do....I don't know......something.

JUST GET THE DAMN SHOW ON THE ROAD!!!!

The next thing I know I hear about some poor schmuck getting sucked into a capillary and that we must go after her.

"Here we go!!!!"

On the movie screen the ship nose dived straight down and into a capillary.  Suddenly the entire room jerked violently to life; I could feel the ill fitting belt buckle digging into my waist.  As the room dropped, so did my stomach.  It felt as if I had been punched in the gut and I could taste vomit in the back of my throat.

"OH MY GOD!!!"

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes so as not to see the movie screen....It was my only defense.

The room rumble and jerked, shook and rattled and I was quite certain that my bowels would turn to water and that some unfortunate janitor would be hating his job in the near future.

I opened my eyes just enough to see the poor teenage girl sitting beside me, stricken with fear.  Not by the ride, but by the sweaty idiot nearing the blow chunks phase of the ride.

I have no idea how long the ride lasted, but it felt like an eternity.  When it finally ended, I opened my eyes and saw that the teenage girl that was in the seat next to me was long gone; she had no intention of sticking around and seeing the launch.

I wobbled out of my chair thankful that I, so far, didn't blow chunks.  When I got outside I saw my loving wife with a (slightly) remorseful look on her face.

"I am so sorry."

"Karla...If I ever get to feeling better I'm going to kick your ass."

I believe Karla took that as meaning apology accepted because what she said next absolutely floored me.

"Well, the next ride is really tame.  You'll see."

Are you shitting me?  Really?

I was so sick I don't even remember what the ride was....Hell, I don't even remember getting on it.  I do remember laying my head on the side of the ride and wishing like Hell we could just go back to our hotel room.

"Tom get your head and arm back inside the ride or your going to lose them."

"Ugh....I don't care.....Just let me die...."



The next day Karla wanted to go tour MGM studios.....I, myself, had had quite enough.  I wanted no part of Walt and his wild rides.  I wanted no part of getting on a bus.....I wanted no interaction with the outside world......I curled up in bed while Karla went to MGM by herself.

She just couldn't understand.....Why is he being such a kill joy?

Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because you nearly sent me to the hospital yesterday.


Ah....Memories....

But if not for Karla I wouldn't have vacation memories, good or bad, because I simply wouldn't have went.

My world would have been a much smaller and ignorant place without her.  I can honestly say that I wouldn't be even half the man I am without her and for that I am eternally grateful.

Thank you, Karla, for pulling me (forcibly) out of my shell and showing me what a wonderful world this mysterious place called earth can be.  It's been a wonderful ride.

Well, not the amusement park rides....Those suck.

Happy Valentine's Day, dear......


http://grooveshark.com/s/A+Real+Fine+Place+To+Start/4LU6Ye?src=5


:)
























Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Workin' out --- it ain't what it used to be....

The driving force behind working out is completely redefined when you hit your forties.

As a young man full of testosterone it's easy to put on your angry music and grunt, growl, and fight your way through a workout. You have plenty of young man reasons to keep working out.  You may still be playing ball or just love to stay in shape to impress the ladies.

(Side Story; I have never impressed the ladies....I can honestly say that Karla is the only woman I have ever felt at ease around.  (I can't explain why)....All other interactions with the opposite sex usually results in mumbling, stuttering and vapor lock....Yes sir,  I am smooth.)

Probably my finest moment in regards to trying to impress a member of the opposite sex was when I was running on the treadmill at the gym.  An attractive young blonde started to run on the treadmill beside me.  Being an idiot I tried to be all studly and nonchalant whilst attempting to take off my sweatshirt as I ran.  The end result was me wiping out, slamming my armpit into the treadmill rail, landing my back and being unceremoniously deposited on the gym floor.  It was a fine moment.

Yes, I was married at the time....But I'm being honest.  Let's face it....It doesn't matter if a man is married or not.....If he sees an attractive woman he is going to suck in his gut before she has a chance to realize he has a dunlop.  Men can't help but show off when their young (Ok, when their old too, in some cases)....It has nothing to do with trying to get a date or anything, we just like to make a good impression.......We're just stupid like that)

I don't know what the average age of "in one's prime" for a man is, but I can tell you that at twenty seven years of age I was in the best shape of my life.....I felt invincible.

Fast forward......(I didn't mean that fast, dammit)

As an older man who has mellowed considerably whilst fighting nagging aches and pains I find it hard at times to stay motivated.

Part of the lack of motivation is the fact that I have been married for almost twenty two years now.  I have two children and have grown very comfortable in a very, very, good marriage.  However, one of the pitfalls of a long marriage is that it's easy to grow complacent.  Seriously, for those of you who have been married a long time, how many of you, men and women, have asked yourselves "Why should I care what I look like?  What do I have to prove?  I don't need to impress anyone anymore...."

Did anyone raise their hand?  C'mon....I know I'm not the only one.....Don't lie to me......

Well here is your answer....How about impressing your spouse?......

I am a brilliant dumb ass......

Like I said....In a long marriage it's easy to grow complacent.  It's not that I love my wife any less or that I don't feel the need to impress her......It's just that I know that I'm not going anywhere....So why put a whole lot of effort into working out?

Yeah, that's not a very good excuse.  Time to do another set.....

Actually, now that I think about it, perhaps the biggest reason working out as an older man is more difficult is because, as a young man, you are "building" and working hard to get bigger, faster, stronger....

When you get older you switch from "Build" to "Prevent"....It's just hard to get excited about preventative maintenance.  It sucks knowing that I have to work twice as hard and eat less than half of what I used to to get the same results that I got over fifteen years ago.

Here are some examples of what I'm driving at: (and these are extreme examples....I can't help it.  That's just the way my warped brain functions.)

Young ---- I want six pack abs.....

OLD ---- I'll settle for pinch an inch.....Just as long as it doesn't turn into grab a slab......

The metabolism has slowed.  Now if I want a six pack I actually have to watch what I eat.  I'm not optimistic that I can stay disciplined enough to regain the concrete wall that I once had for a stomach.  I fear my six pack will be permanently hidden beneath a bag of chips.

Young ----  I want to build up my bi's and tri's and get that line that separates the two......You know, definition.....

OLD --- I don't want bingo wings.....

At this point I could give a shit less about definition....I'll settle for good muscle tone.

By the way.....Bingo Wings has to be, by far, the most unflattering term I have ever heard.....

Young --- I want to look good in my jeans.

OLD ---  I don't want my ass to disappear....

What is it about the male posterior that causes it to melt away?  Is it sudden?  Do you just wake up one day, reach around to scratch your ass, and discover that it has gone AWOL?

This it the worst part of getting old, in my opinion....I see all those guys with suspenders, overalls, or a belt cinched in tight, and there is this flat void where their ass once resided......Really.....what happened?



Ah, hell....you know what?  I'm getting bent out of shape about something I can't control.  Time will have it's way with me someday.....But until then, I'll just keep fighting.....It's the only way I know how to deal with it.

And I will do it with a smile on my face........The best advice I ever got was from a friend who's once told me "Just keep laughing".

Great advice.  The world is a much better place if you can keep a sense of humor about it.

So smile I will......I figure that, someday down the road, if I smile big enough, no one will notice that my ass is missing...

:)












Thursday, February 6, 2014

Odds and Ends -- 2/6/14

The Gardening Neophyte....

The Burpee catalog showed up in the mail today!!!!

I have to say; when I opened this catalog for the first time it felt as if I had been introduced a wonderfully strange new world.  The colors flew off the page in a wide range of shapes and sizes; a presentation made by mother nature at her artistic best.

And the names of all the plants, fruits, and vegetables just had a way of getting me totally amped up for spring:

Honey Delight Hybrid -- yellow tomato

Diablito -- Hot pepper (For Toby, the salsa freak)

Porcelain Doll -- a pink pumpkin -- will probably skip on it....But the name and the picture were really cool.

Moulin Rouge Hybrid -- Not a freaking clue.....A beet maybe?  It was purple (I bet it will stain your clothes something awful)

I have to be careful, though.  The last time I was this excited about something new I went to the Bass Pro Shop and bought a tackle box the size of a small foot locker and filled it with all sorts of fishing gear; ninety percent of it I never even needed.

It was as if my logic was "Hey, I don't have a clue......I better just buy everything!!!!!"

Not this time.....I will remember the old K.I.S.S acronym.

Keep
It
Simple
Stupid

Yes....Simple.....The garden has to be small this year.  I have a lot to learn and the worst thing I can do is to get carried away and create a monster that I will not be able to control.

Still....I can hardly contain my excitement.  It, quite frankly, has been a huge help getting me through a long, dreary winter.

Speaking of winter........




Jack Frost is an A-hole.....


For those of you that keep up with me either here or on FaceBook; it is no secret how much I have grown to despise old man winter.

I blame it on my Filipino genes.....I believe that, deep down, there is a part of me that feels that it has somehow, mistakenly, gotten lost in the snowy domain of the Eskimo when it should be walking on the beach of a tropical island.

Don't get me wrong.....I love to sled and build snowmen; and I love hiking in the ice and the wind for some odd reason.  But I only love it for about a month.  If cold, snow and ice were to last, say, the entire month of December (gotta have that white Christmas) and then jump right into spring in January; I would be quite all right with that.

One of the biggest reasons I harbor such disdain for winter is that I do nothing but get sick throughout the entire miserable season.  Shot or no, I usually have at least one bout with the flu and I always seems to have a cold that just never really goes away....A scratchy throat one week, a dull throbbing headache the next.......A runny or stuffy nose the week after that....Joy.

I think I will have to do some research before next winter and see if there is anything I can do in the way of preventative maintenance....Well, aside from buying a winter home in Belize or Playa Del Carmen.

But, by far the biggest reason I hate the winter is because driving on the snow and ice turns me into an absolute basket case.  At one of my full time jobs I used to watch the weather channel and plan vacation days around up coming storms....I didn't want any part of having to get into the car and putter through the ice and snow.

Then, for reasons I can't explain, I volunteered to be part of the snow crew at my last full time job. Maybe it was because I was new and wanted to make a good impression?  I actually heard the small voice inside my head asking me in a shrill, panic stricken voice just what in the hell I thought I was doing as I agreed to help out with snow removal and salting down the sidewalks.

And, oh boy, what a joyous drive into work it was the first time the ice and snow came in for a visit........

I'm not ashamed to admit that I was the guy driving 35 and backing up traffic.  I had a death grip on the steering wheel and my ass was so puckered you couldn't have gotten a BB up it with copious amounts of grease and a sledge hammer.

Every little slip and slide would send my heart into my throat.  My whole body was in a permanent state of flex.  It's no wonder that I was tired, sore, and had a headache at the end of the trip.

Maybe I should buy a snow mobile.....

Especially now since I'm working part time....I don't have any vacation that I can use to get out of driving across the frozen tundra.

Or maybe a dog sled.....Yeah, I could handle that.




Two kids, two personalities.....


I have always known that, from a personality standpoint, Toby and Tera are about as opposite of one another as is possible.  But, even after all of these years, I still find it fascinating to observe.

The kids have missed three days of school because of bad weather; each one killing their time inside the house is totally different ways.

Both kids spent a lot of time in their rooms but Toby would seemingly always be on the phone talking to someone.  When he wasn't on the phone he was lifting weights and scuttling about the house, engaging in conversation with me occasionally.  In short, he never went too long without socializing with someone in some way shape or form.  Toby most definitely takes after Karla.......A social butterfly.

Tera, on the other hand, closed the door to her bedroom and only came out to eat and to go to the bathroom.  She may come over and talk for a little bit, she may not.  And while Toby had the stereo cranked in his bedroom; Tera's room was like a library, or maybe more like a graveyard.  Eerily silent.

It's not that Tera can't be social....There are times when she just chooses not to be.  She is quite content with laying in her bed and reading, drawing, or playing on her iPod.  I just find it strange that someone who can be so loud and cantankerous one minute can be silent and withdrawn the next.

I really don't know why I should find this behavior strange....After all she acts just like me.  Perhaps I find it strange because I simply can't explain why we are the way we are.

When you ask Toby about the future, he will say that he wants to be a nuclear engineer, is looking at colleges, and is getting a feel for the needed requirements in his field of choice.  When he talks, you get a good feel for how outgoing he is; how driven he is.  He is ready to tackle the world and make it work for him.

Tera could care less about the world.  She wants to be a veterinarian because she wants to work with animals and "I don't have to talk to a lot of people that way."

I get it.....It may seem stand offish but, trust me, it's not.  There are those individuals, like Tera and myself, who enjoy and need time alone.  We are individuals that enjoy silence and have no problem getting submersed for hours in a good book or an art project.  Or maybe we can just sit and watch the world go by while listening to the music playing on the radio.

It's not that we don't like to talk......We just don't feel the need to do it all the time.

I'm in no hurry to watch the kids grow up......But I can hardly wait to see what direction they will take when they are on their own......and while I'm quite certain that the two of them will go in completely opposite directions; I am also quite certain that they will each be successful in their own unique way....








Monday, February 3, 2014

You clean like a man....

Every now and then I will ask Karla if the house passes inspection.  Karla immediately responds "The house looks great.  It's nice to come home from work and not have to worry about cooking and cleaning. My stress level is way down.  I love having you home."

Then she gives a sly grin and says, "But you clean like a man...."

What in the hell does that mean?

Knowing that asking Miss Workaholic what she meant by that would surely result in me performing some undesirable shit work, I blew it off......

But after hearing how I clean like a man a few more times I couldn't take it anymore.

"Ok, I need a list telling me exactly what you mean when you say that I clean like a man."

Karla kind of back tracked a little, "No.  I'll feel like I'm being ungrateful.  You really are doing a good job."

"No....I need to know."  The thought of my male cleaning skills being inferior and, I suppose, lacking a feminine touch, bothered me.

For a couple of days Karla put it off and let it be known that she really regretted ever jabbing me the way she did.  She meant it in good fun.....But I could sense a grain of truth in the jabs and just had to know what it was that makes me "Clean like a man."

So after some coaxing I finally got a list from her.  As she set it on the table she told me, "I really feel like a B, I appreciate what you're doing."

"It's fine, dear....I need to know.  You're not going to hurt my feelings, I promise."

"Ok."

So....Let's have a look here, shall we?

First and foremost one the list....

1.  You clean "around" things......

Ok...I will readily admit that I am the round-a-bout king.  But I do move stuff occasionally.....I just can't remember the last time I did.

So I went over to the kitchen counter and moved the four canisters back away from the wall.  Behind it I found some old rice and some smears of things that I didn't recognize....All covered by a thin coat of sugar.

Shit.....Ok.....So I'm going to have to pull everything away from the wall at least once a week.

I noticed, too, that the canister were a little sticky....Eww....Guess I be wiping that down more often too.

The other part of my round-a-bout habit has to deal with the furniture.  I never move the furniture when I sweep and mop.  I just get under it as far as I can and call it good.  I mean, it's not like we are ever going to move the furniture....

Well, I'm not anyway.  It seems like about every six months Karla has a tendency to go apeshit and just rearrange the entire house and when I come home I walk around as if I'd been drinking all day.  I'm running in to all sorts of shit, cussing and acquiring bruises all along the way.

"Why are you messing with my feng shui??????  I have lost all feeling of joy and harmony!!!!......AAAAAHHHH!!!!  Dammit, that's going to leave a mark....."



2.  Dusting.

What dusting?  I have to admit that I never even had it my list of things to do.  I don't know why, but every time Karla mentions dusting I immediately think of a French maid outfit and a large feather duster.

Yeah, my hairy legs would so make that work.........I really have no explanation for why I think the way I do.

Fine.....Dusting will be added to the list.  But not without some compromise.

There really isn't a whole lot of furniture to dust.  The problem is that it seems as if all tables and desks become a dumping ground for mail, backpacks, laptops, magazines....etc. etc. etc.

It's actually kind of aggravating getting the house in order only to see it cluttered within minutes of everyone coming home......That will have to change if any dusting is going to be done.



3.  Use a toothbrush for the hard to reach places.

I knew.....I just knew it.  There was no way I was going to get through a list written by Karla without running into some big pile of shit.......and it is big.

In my opinion, a toothbrush should be used for just what it's intended for --- good oral care.

But to Karla, a toothbrush is what puts the finishing touches on a properly cleaned house.  A toothbrush can be used on the bottom of all baseboards and in the corners of each room that a mop simply can't get into.

A toothbrush is a fine instrument for cleaning in between all of your tiles and a great way to scrub all the places on the tub surround that a wash cloth won't reach.

Yes, sir.  Nothing says you've done a fine days work quite like sore knees, back, neck, elbows, and a dirty toothbrush.....

For Pete's sake.....why did I have to know?

I have grown to hate the toothbrush. I hate it even more than scrubbing the toilet.....that's saying something....

  I have actually found myself thinking as I'm scrubbing the tub surround:  "If I used Karla's toothbrush and rinsed it off real good, would she know?"

Karla:  "Does the new toothpaste seem gritty to you?"

Me:  "I have no idea what your talking about......"

GRRRRRRR.........I knew better than to ask....I'm an idiot.  Never, never, NEVER, ask a workaholic how to do a job better......Dammit.

Still.....the tub does look better.....

I really miss cleaning like a man......