the one with lots of capital letters aka a love letter

i have always been attracted to the bad boys. remember the weird-o kid in parenthood? loved him. edward furlong in terminator 2? nick stahl in man without a face? brent ogee in 6th grade. still makes my heart flutter a little bit. i like the bad boys. probably has something to do with the facts that i was known as "the perfect child", my dad was a cop and i didn't rebel in my teenage years. who wouldn't love the sexy, long greasy haired, introverted loners with a reputation like mine?

spring 2004. i meet ted and alan during church softball. those boys were/are CUTE. cute together. cute by themselves. cute. i could tell ted had been a little bit of a bad boy (i have badboydar) so of course i clued in and started paying attention. NOT TO MENTION, that bad boy could run the bases like nobody's business and he had very attractive arms while he was up to bat. what? i'd never cared about arms before. bad boys don't normally have particularly hot arms. but oh man, i always wished ted was up to bat. OR i wished that i would get hurt somehow, so ted would come show me sympathy. my wish came true frequently, because 1. ted is very sympathetic and 2. i got hurt a lot.

it took this bad boy all season to ask me out. that's the beauty of bad boys. they aren't cocky and forward. they are shy, planful and unassuming. during our first date ted invited me on three more in the next three days and he didn't even think i was a loser for not having any plans. pretty good for a first date.

so the next day when ted called me and said he would meet me at the movie theater, i was pretty bummed. meeting is no fun. getting picked up for a date is fun. so when ted called me back 30 seconds later and told me he would pick me up instead, i was thinking that he was the right kind of bad boy for me.

and that is the beginning of our love story.

this is the other beginning of our love story:

ted is not so much a bad boy anymore. sometimes, i have to convince him to be just a little bad and NOT eat healthy. or i have to make him blow off some responsibility for a little fun. other times he makes me do wild and crazy things like jump on the piles of fertilizer bags outside of safeway or chase an ambulance or two. we balance. his bad boy with my good girl.

tonight i was contemplating this man i LOVE.

he started back to school this year to pursue his love of music. he works hard on homework and studies every night and day. he puts a lot of thought and effort into cooking meals for our family. he spends time playing with the kids. once in a while he blows off his homework "just to hang out" with me. he reads hatchet to alan almost every night. he rubs my shoulders when i have a headache. he makes up stories to tell maya before bed. he makes me sit down with him and come up with a chore chart. he always does his chores and sometimes mine.

last night ted was super stressed about his homework and test today. (he has about a million hours of homework a week.) during study breaks he made cookies with the kids. (did I mention they were GOOD cookies??) then he took his test and got an A.

and today when he had the day off from work, what did he do? not the hours of homework he could have. he decided to take maya and alan to the skate park and then hike saddle rock.

this man is a GOOD dad.

he's a GOOD husband.

he's a GOOD student.

he's a GOOD guy.

i love my bad boy turned good guy. and his arms STILL get me. literally and figuratively.

why i don't share magazines with my dad anymore.

i seriously love readers digest. but i realized i was old the other day as i was reading it. i have been reading it forever, like since i was old enough to read (and it was safe because without a "sex and dating" column, i didn't have to anticipate my dad's "discussion" about the "sex and dating" topics). i realized i was old because i have started to pay attention to all the health, heart disease, diabetes articles that i used to skip because they were for the old people. i've always been in denial that its written for geezers and i sing its praises to everyone who cares (pretty much nobody) but i have finally decided to accept the truth, embrace the "studies show..." articles and try to learn more about (and not just eat) the benefits of avocados and how to sit and be fit.

i have always been amazed at rd's ability to bring me to tears and then get me gut laughing at some schmuck's stupid antics or some daily newspaper's misprint. oh boy, those things can crack me up. it is truly a great periodical that can bring you full circle in your emotions and brain function and leave you wanting more. (if i read people, i usually end up feeling ugly and disgusted with myself for caring about trash. i need the week between issues to recover.)

but the day readers digest arrives at our house is like Christmas. and for a whole week (i used to be able to finish an issue in a couple hours but kids and family fixed that right up for me) my stomach tingles with excitement. sometimes i forget why i'm excited and then i remember! um, ted, i have to use the bathroom. i'll be right back. and I get two minutes of uninterrupted reading (the perfect amount of time for rd)

then this: (enter maya) maya go find daddy. no this is mommy's. i know it's little and has a ton of cat litter ads, but mommy is trying to read this right now. maya go see if daddy needs help. maya mommy needs some privacy. please. maya. please.

and then my rd disappears with my daughter into the other room. she thinks because it's small it's for her. i might have to start buying the large print edition. (so much of it makes so much more sense now).

oh well, my legs are usually asleep by then anyways.

ps. when seventeen magazine did a "sex and dating" on oral sex, i hid it from my dad. i'm sure you understand.

from the mouths of babes

my mom emailed me at work today:

"mikey says to maya: maya you should talk to your mother about being a pumpkin for halloween. maya says to mikey: i don't have a mother, i have a mommy."

she's so smart and so right. mother's are smarmy.

my contribution to the cultural education of my children

ted and i like to plan things in advance. and then we change our minds. and then ted changes his again. and then i get used to the new plan. and then ted changes his mind again. and then i get mad. and then i don't plan things in advance anymore.

ted wanted to go to barter faire and camp this last weekend. i did not. nothing against barter faire and all, but i was not too keen on subjecting my kids to a place so cold you are drawn to the flame....and that is NOT the place to be drawn to the flame, if you get my drift. so i let him stew on it for a day or two and then said things like"it's too cold" and "i have to grow a baby and it's too cold up there to do that" and "pot smoke is not good for growing babies or children." then he changes his mind. and then he changes it back. and then friday night we decide that maybe it would be ok to just go for the day. and i'm kind of ok with that and i get used to the idea.

saturday morning. t minus 3 minutes until we are going to leave and ted changes his mind (you live with him, you learn to expect it.) i find myself actually talking him into going to barter faire.

what?

driving in cars for long periods of time with maya is not. fun. capitol NOT. i, of course, make the mistake of telling her we will be going through a tunnel (her favorite) and then ted reminds me bebe bridge is open and we, in fact, will not be traveling through any tunnels. i think this is ridiculous and someone should build a tunnel somewhere on that drive. we then spend about 20 minutes convincing maya that it is actually more exciting to cross bridges then go through tunnels. this translates into a commitment to raise our hands and feet and yell like banshees as we travel over all 12 bridges between here and tonasket. we always end with clapping to celebrate. anything with water on both sides of the road qualified as a bridge. alan was the official judge and counter. i have never had so much fun with bridges. you should try it sometime. it's better if you do it on the way to tonasket, where all the people are a little cooky anyway and don't think it out of the ordinary to see a car full of people yelling and doing the wave over a bridge.

once we arrive at barter faire (following charming a cop out of a ticket and spending an hour in the driveway inching our way towards the parking lot) i learned several things. maya is not as bohemian as I thought. not brushing my hair or putting on make-up did not help me fit in. drug dealers do not discriminate against people with kids. or people in tennis shoes. my mother in law makes great pumpkin bread that is best if you just gnaw on it. the kids of free spirited parents are bratty just like other kids. free face painting for kids is an awesome perk. it really meant a lot to my mother in law that we came, seeing as it was her birthday and all. i am thankful and glad that i talked ted into going. maya melts down after two hours of living the bohemian lifestyle.
as we were walking around we walked right past one of the staff at alan's old school. i pointed her out (because it made me feel slightly more normal to be there after seeing her). i say "that was mrs. bull." ted says "oh really?" and alan says "that's unfortunate."

what?

I say "why is that unfortunate?" and he says "that a person like her would be at a place like this."

what?

i say "what about us? we are here." and he shrugs his shoulders.

ever since i have been trying to figure out exactly what goes through that kid's head about our family.

oh and excuse me but it is now called okanogan family faire...to make it more family friendly and less drug dealer friendly. i'm not really sure what to make of that. but thanks for the effort.

part of the family friendly aspect, i assume.

gone too long

i miss my blog and i miss writing in it. i think my new years resolution (what?) should be to start posting again. ok, it's settled. so for those faithful readers who have been biting their nails in anticipation that i would return to the blogging world, you are welcome.