FYI, Menfolk

I think that if I rarely call my husband at work (and never for stupid things like asking, "Do you still love me?"), then he should have the decency to stop typing at his keyboard for the 45 seconds it takes me to ask him where the corkscrew is. Not that that bothers me, or anything...

And they wonder why women become disinterested in sex. This article says scientists are trying to develop a pill for FSD. That's female sexual dysfunction, for those of you not aware that there is a new epidemic sweeping the nation. A pill? We don't need no stinking pill. We women are a tad more complicated than men when it comes to these matters, in case you all haven't figured that out yet.

For example, the article does not address the relationship between housework and sex. As in, men who do the dishes after dinner may just have a better chance of getting lucky that night than those who watch TV while their lovely sex slave toils away in the kitchen.

Or fatigue and sex - There's nothing like running after the kids all day, making meals, cleaning the house, and doing the bedtime routine to put a damper on any amorous notions a less exhausted woman may entertain towards her husband. You know, reading Curious George to your 4-year-old in the evening while your wife takes a much-needed break just may be to your benefit, guys! Extra points if you actually take her out to dinner!

Or good old-fashioned wooing and sex - Flowers, chocolates, compliments: these are all time-honored methods of courting a woman's favor. And they all work way better than saying pointedly, "Well, I'm going to bed now!" and hoping your wife takes the hint.

It's not a pill we need, gentlemen - a little romance (of the non-physical kind) and attention (gifts don't hurt, either) would do the trick (ooh, no pun intended). Some things never change, now do they?

And for heaven's sake, stop working for a minute when your wife calls you at the office. Would it kill you?

Thankful For The Small Things

I'm thinking that it is hard for a woman to restrict both her food intake and her non-food purchases at the same time. I've lost another pound (thank you, yes, I do feel great, except for this gnawing feeling in my stomach); but I keep buying things online. Things that have been sitting on my Amazon wishlist for 6 months, say...and some more fun workbooks for the kids...and a bunch of educational CD's that put science to music I've been eyeing for years....

(I must say, that until you've learned about DNA to the tune of "Shortnin' Bread," you haven't really lived. This is why I home school.)

I haven't even hit the yarn sites yet; but I can feel it coming. Where do you buy your Cascade 220, Amy? I think I'll be ordering some next time I want a cookie.

You know what? Nothing to complain about today - I lost a pound, I got my 15-minute walk, only one kid wept through dinner, and my husband has not exposed me to a media firestorm of epic proportions. What's not to like about that?

For Better or Worse?

I read an interesting article in our paper yesterday about a man who is taking meticulous care of his wife (she has Huntington's Disease). I was telling Larry (on our date last night) how impressed I was by the steadfastness and loyalty of this guy, and Larry said, "Well, he's certainly raising the bar, isn't he?"

I think I had better make sure I have a good long-term care plan lined up, don't you? Just in case...

And to all of you who asked - Yes, thank you, I am feeling better. My mystery disease has finally gone away. The problem with feeling better after being sick for 2 days is that the house is totally trashed. Which makes me feel sick. It's a vicious cycle. I cannot imagine what this place would look like if something happened to me (like, death, say). Actually, yes, I can. And it's not a pretty picture.

It's late. No, it's not. I mean, it wouldn't be late if the powers that be hadn't made us mess with our clocks. But they did. So it's late. And I'm going to bed, even though I probably won't be tired enough to sleep for an hour yet.

Miscellaneous This and That

I started feeling worse and worse yesterday; so I attempted to take it easy around noontime by sitting in my beloved floral Ektorp and cuddling Susie in my lap. Unfortunately, she was emitting this constant whining sound that reminded me of nothing so much as a dentist's drill. (Why was she doing that? Ha! I know not why.) So I went up to bed (where Larry was already napping) and lay down (yes, we are both pathetic) and Susie followed me. Then she heard someone knocking on the front door, which resulted in her running downstairs to shout, "Mommy and Daddy are in the bed!" to whomever was at the door. Cool. As if our neighbors didn't already think we are a bit too frisky, what with the 6 kids and all...

How often do you think I get invited to a grown-ups only social event? Almost never? You're right! So it would stand to reason that I would be too sick to go yesterday evening to our neighbor's house where she was having a little farewell dinner party for another neighbor. A real dinner party, where you drink cocktails before the meal and sit at a table to eat your food and (if you're my husband) stay until midnight laughing and chatting with the other attendees (all grown-ups).

Not that I am jealous or anything...

And that cauliflower I managed to serve the kids on Friday? Made me sound pretty good, huh? It probably appeared to the casual reader that we always have a fresh steamed vegetable (with ketchup) at dinner. Wouldn't that be nice? But, in reality, it's usually just a bag of baby carrots thrown on the table as an afterthought (eat them or no dessert!), or some carrot and onion in whatever stir fry Theo has thrown together. Bagged salad makes an appearance every once in a while. The kids' favorite dressing - French, of course, because it has ketchup in it.

We do have a special family ritual here - every other week I buy the healthy veggies at the commissary, and then, 2 weeks later, after they have decomposed sufficiently, I throw most of them out. Sometimes I treat it as a homeschool science experiment by demonstrating to the kids what mold looks like (biology!). Or I can list it under earth science by calling it compost.

It's a learning lifestyle, that's what it is. Mostly the kids are learning how I waste good money on food we don't use. And I'm learning that you can lead a kid to cauliflower, but you can't make him eat (at least, not without a lot of ketchup).

If I were really blog-savvy, I would insert a YouTube video here of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young singing, "Teach...your children well..." But, alas, I'm not blog-savvy; and Larry wants the computer. G'night, all!

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

For years, I've battled my kids' predilection to put ketchup on all comestibles. I've read Mrs. Pig's Bulk Buy to the little savages any number of times. To this day I refuse to help them put ketchup on their hotdogs, as I have no wish to aid and abet a culinary crime. And I blame my husband for not nipping this ketchup thing in the bud. If it were up to me, their virgin mouths would never have tasted anything but mustard on their frankfurters.

Anyway, dinner yesterday - baked beans, cauliflower, and salad. No meat, since I'm raising a bunch of Catholics who must be penitent on Fridays in Lent. This restriction makes them more whiny than remorseful, however, as they are used to having hotdogs with their baked beans. Susie, trying to make the best of a bad situation, asked for ketchup for her cauliflower. And, in a moment of weakness, I gave it to her.

You know what? She ate that cauliflower. She said it was, and I quote, "Yum." So, cauliflower and ketchup - go ahead and try it. It's the cuisine du jour. Yum.

I slept on the couch last night. There is only so much snoring one woman can take. I can sleep with regular, rhythmic snoring. It's listening to the "Snore....hold your breath for 15 seconds....loud SNORT....hold your breath...." routine that destroys sleep for me. Call me fussy, but when the person in the bed next to me isn't breathing? I don't find that restful.

It's Saturday, the day we either run around and get a lot of stuff done or else do something fun with the kids. And guess what? We're doing neither. Larry's sick, I've got some lousy head cold that is giving me a bad attitude, and it is pouring rain (cold rain) outside. Luckily, the teens are out of the house all day working a fundraiser (in the rain) for workcamp. I hate having them around on a bad day, because they make me feel worse.

Of course, having the little kids going stir-crazy in the house is no picnic, either. I just bribed them - if they would please leave me alone for 20 minutes, I would play UNO with them. Now they are all sitting at the dining room table (i.e., within earshot) bickering over how to deal out the cards. Good Lord, just kill me now.

I have to pull myself together. I was reminded last night that I am supposed to talk about homeschooling math materials at the curricula meeting today. I don't know what was going through my head when I promised to do that. Maybe I thought the weather would be springlike and none of us would be sick and that I would actually be able to find my math curricula materials in time. Wrong, wrong, and wrong. So I'm showing up with a headache and doped up on Sudafed and Tylenol, with nothing but my son's 6th-grade math workbook in my hands.

Hey, these new homeschooling moms need a dose of reality anyway. Let them see what being home with the kids every day can do to a person. That way they can go into this homeschooling thing with their eyes wide open. With terror. It gets their adrenaline pumping.