If He's Samson and HE'S Delilah, who am I??

Remember when I wrote this post about getting O's hair cut?

I'm fairly certain that by reading that post, it would become CLEAR to you
(or anyone who's literate)
that  I am not ready to part with my son's locks.

My Dearest Spouse?
Didn't get the fucking memo.

He has been on my ass about cutting his hair since O turned 1.  Even before.

It has been a weekly argument.
That always ends in tears.
Mine.

The last time we had the argument, I told him:

I am not ready.  I love his hair.  LOVE.  I am not ready to cut it.  AT ALL.  I know it's long and shaggy, but I ADORE it that way.  It's not hurting anybody!  Leave me be.  I will let you know when I am emotionally composed enough to cut.

Maybe that is  over the top, but I could give a shit.  

And why the fuck this was such an issue for my husband I'll never know.  He's not a rigid guy about hair or dress etc., usually...

The whole thing was really pissing me off.

Then this weekend rolls around, and I had anticipated staying in.
O was sick, and we had already canceled all of our weekend plans, so as not to infect anyone else.

Movies, and Comfies, and Snuggling! Yay!

People?

Instead?

Sobbing and Fighting and Shearing, is what I got.


Husband announces to me, late Saturday afternoon, that we are taking O to get his hair cut.

Ummm, no we are fucking not. The baby is not feeling well. We are.NOT.

Husband says:  Yes we are! And we're bringing my mom!

Are you shitting me?

He is not, friends.  He is serious.

We fight.  It is obvious to anyone with a pulse, that I am not happy.
And he's using his innocent mother as a human shield?
Poor form, Husby. POOR.

I do NOT want this.  I do not agree to this.

 But, I feel badgered to death, I am tired of arguing.  It is obvious, that on this point, my usually sweet partner has a mental block to hearing me on this issue.

So we will go. For Fuck's Sake, we will go.

But this is just a TRIM.  As in his bangs.
So that they are out of his eyes.
(as that seems to be the monumental force behind this movement)

Fine.

I was promised that THAT would be all.

His curls or wispies would not be harmed.

Outright LIES, readers. LIIIIIIIES.

We get to the hair place....
It's brightly colored and has rocket ships.
WooFuckingHoo.

Do you know what I see?

A bunch of little ones getting sheared and sobbing.

I try not to meltdown.
My husband is trying to cajole me.
It will not work.  Do not kid yourself Senor.
I again, make him promise a trim...

It's our turn.

She straps him into his rocket.
The tears start to well...
She puts the smock on.
Tears are rolling...
She asks what we want.
I am sobbing.

Yes, I really was sobbing.  As I may have mentioned? 
I FUCKING LOVE HIS HAIR.
DO NOT TOUCH IT.

I couldn't form a sentence....other than to say: I don't want to cut it.


Instead of stopping right then and there? Which is what I would have done?

She asks my husband what he wants.
Really?!!


Instead of saying:

Just a bang trim, Thanks!

He starts talking about the back and sides.
They agree on a cut similar to a boy that just left.
With barely any hair.


WHAT THE LIVING FUCK?

I can't even say anything because I am so irate. Oh, and sobbing. Lest we forget that gorgeous piece of public humiliation....

I try to croak out that I just want his bangs cut....please don't touch the rest, but she is already busy snipping away.

That traitorous bastard I married?
He's happily snapping pictures.

I am still sobbing AND trying to blow bubbles to keep O calm.
[BTW, sobbing and blowing, in any arena? Doesn't mix. A helpful hint from me to you.]


The cut is done.

It's awful. 
It's very Slingblade-meets-Toddler bowl cut, with a mullet starter kit in the back. 
(only worse.)


I look at him and just cry more.


My husband now realizes that the has made a grave mistake.

I can see it on his face.

This allows me to make the transition from heartbroken to livid.
I was already at my boiling point before we got there and this sent me over the edge....

My MIL takes the baby so we can get some food.
I am a big believer in not fighting in public.
Honestly.
BUT.
We sit down to eat and I just LOSE MY SHIT.

Have you ever seen the couple at a restaurant who are fighting-- but quietly, through clenched teeth?
The harsh whispered screams?
We are that couple.

I am angry and heartbroken.  I do not appreciate having my feelings in the matter totally disrespected.  I am hurt/embarrassed that he just stood there while I sobbed.  And?  He let them butcher our son's beautiful hair.

He apologizes.
But he thinks I'm overreacting.
I can tell he thinks I'll get used to it...

We go home.

I am angry and hurt and silent.
Looking at the baby makes me cry.

I know that Husband feels awful, but I need time to process.
I tell him that I accept his apology, but that he needs to give me space.

But he won't.

He HATES when I am angry at him.  It makes him want to crawl out of his skin.
While I understand, I try to explain that I am thoroughly hurt and angry on several levels...this is going to take more than a minute to subside....

Explaining and justifying on both sides turns to more fighting.
My temper is no longer in check.

I go take a long shower. With the door locked.

I get out a calmer me.
He is a more honestly apologetic him.
He finally sees what this was for me.

And he admits that he thinks O's hair cut is as AWFUL as I do, and that it was mistake to rush his first hair cut.

We kiss and make up....sorta.

I warn him that I am still not 100% over it.

Next morning?
It still makes me weepy to look at the baby's head.

Husband is desperate to save this somehow.
He decides that he will use the clippers to cut O's hair so that it is 1nch in length all over, evening it out.



You may be yelling at my obviously crazy husband:

BITCH, DON'T GO IN THERE!! You're gonna get killed!!

But you know what?


I LOVE IT.

I'm still mourning his curls and wispies, but his new 1950's-style little man 'do makes me smile....
[and forgive that traitorous bastard husband of mine....a little bit more.  Hey, it's a process.]

Still?

Heartbroken.
His hair was awesome.

Spouseface owes me BIG TIME for our anniversary and my birthday.

BIG.
Ha!

The LISSSSST.

Alright, as I warned in Thursday's post, I'm putting up a Birthday List.
Dun, Dun, Duuunnnn!!!!

Only problem?
I don't know what I want....

Okay, so I DO know of things I want, but I feel like it's all too frivolous and/or expensive.
I'd rather be practical.
I don't want to get all Veruca Salt up in here....

But I know it really annoys my husband when I ask for practical things on holidays/birthdays (he also loathes giving gift cards), sooooo:


Let's do this Fantasy-Style.
I'm just going to go CUHRAAAZZZY and list it ALLLLLL.
I am turning 30 (eeek!), after all!

Do I expect everything?
That's a negative, ghostrider.  I'm not delusional.

But it's still kinda fun.  And, as a geniusy little bird suggested, If I list more than a couple things, I'll get that surprise my neurotic romantical heart hopes for!  WIN.


Are you ready?
You may learn things about me you didn't wanna know.
Don't judge!

BirrrfdayWishList:

The Verizon iPhone-

I  really want an interwebs phone.  Ever since my iTouch drowned (I need to do an in memoriam post) 2 weeks ago, I've been kinda lost and heartbroken.  I think an iPhone or (or a Droid) could heal me.  Maybe I just want a new iTouch....IDON'TKNOW!

My ILs got me the new iTouch and and adorable case! I feel complete again! TRUTH!

Nars Lipstick, Gipsy-

This lipstick makes me feel- Kinda sexy (yikes!), but it is puhhhhRICEeeey!  Hey, it's my birthday, right?
My really good friend Rach sent me a tube today (3-23-11) in the mail for an early gifty! Yay! I will look all KINDS of sexy while picking up toys this evening!

Steve Madden Boots, Candence-

In black or cognac...or both?   OMG, I would die.  Size 7.5/8  
Saaaaad Day. I went to look at these again and try them on, in the event that I might actually get a pair, and they would never work for me...so the Hubs bought me a gorgeous black pair of Uggs. I promise I won't wear them with short-shorts.

Lisa Leonard Designs, itty bitty hearts with a W and O Necklace-

So many things I want from her site, but I'm obsessed with this piece right now.  Her jewelery is just so simple and happy and sweet... 
This was my anniversary gift from Husby! So perfect!

A Facial-

I don't have a specific one, I'd just like a really good facial.  I've only had 1 my whole life.  It was fabulous.  I'd like a repeat...

Eyeliner Touchup-

Yes.  My eyeliner is tattooed on.  No, I do not have a single tear inked as well.  Shut it.  Trying to put eyeliner on when your fine motor skills aren't so sharp, is dicey.  So I got it permanently done.  It's totally tasteful....SHUT UP.

Aldo Sandals, Marello-

Any/all colors.  Size 8.  I live and die by the flipflop.
My ILs got me two pairs of Tom's....Where have they BEEN all my life? Shoes that I can wear?! Whaaa? They don't hurt my feet and I can easily take them on and off myself! MIRACLES!

New Bedding-

I love our bed.  It's a king.  It is magical.  But I'd love to get a new bed set...but king sets?  Ridiculous.  I adore Anthro bedding (the whole store, really), but holy fuck in a bucket, talk about expensive....
I also got a new duvet and shams for our anniversary! Not Anthro, but Ikea...WAAAY cheaper, but simple clean and pretty. Best part? He likes it too! Yay, Domestic Harmony!
  

Sprinkles Cupcakes-

Why yes, I am watching my girlish figure.  Thank you for noticing.  Ahem.  Anyway.  I lurrrve baked goods! Especially cupcakes.  Especially THESE cupcakes.  Red Velvet?  Chocolate Coconut?  Strawberry? Droooool.
My husband brought home half a dozen...for our family of 5 (not for baby!)...I ate 3 of them. Over 4 days, but STILL

 New Clothes-

My wardrobe is kinda sad (and scandalous?).  My clothes are getting tired.  I just had to pitch a bunch of tanks and chones because of holes...the thing is?  I feel like I don't know how to dress myself any more.  I'm not even sure I know what size I am...I need comfy and easy to move in, but I need some sass in there as well, because who wants me be the Frump Master General?  As much as husband hates gift cards, it's safer than trying to guess size/color...GC's to Macy's (they have great sales), Target (Who doesn't love Target?), and Old Navy (Their online selection is way better than in-store) would be much appreciated.
My friend K gave me a GC to Macy's...excited to spend it!

A New Camera- Like of the FujiFilm EXR variety

My digital camera is 3 years old.  It's been through a lot.  Some day, I'd love to get a big girl camera, but until I finally take a photography class and get some photo programs, a point and click is all I am equipped to handle.
Hubs ALSO bought me a Fujifilm z800 EXR. Love it, still trying to use it properly!

Tattoos- 

I have so much more work that I want to get done!  But I know my FIL would have a coronary.  He HATES tattoos.  He's learned to live with the ones I have, but I think starting the sleeve I want would put him over the edge.  Maybe when we finally move out.  And you know...get rich...pshhhh.

Ear Piercing-

I want to get my second holes done.  I know.  What am I, 8? For the record, I have my ears pierced, and I've had many other piercings over the years, even second/third/cartilage holes, but they all closed up.  Don't mock me! 

iTunes Gift Cards-

I may not have my iTouch anymore, and if I'm honest with myself, the iPhone is a pipe dream, BUT I can still listen to music on my computer.  There's quite a few albums I want....
My darling friend M gave me an itunes GC, which I spent IMMEDIATELY. Adele and Mumford & Sons. Happy.
 
 Okay!  I think that's hedonistic enough! Gift it up, Husband!
[ Poor Guy, Our Anniversary is 3-8, and my birthday is 3-29]

And if any of you, my lovely readers/friends want to send me gifties?  FEEL FREE.  Ha!

This was fun!  I feel like one of those girls on My SUPER SWEET SIXTEEN SPOILED ROTTEN show! 




Where the FUCK is my new Beemer?!!!
 
   

Hear ye, Hear ye:

My husband would like it known that he is not a completely insensitive jackass.

He feels as though my Valentine's Post was rather slanderous.

[When I pointed out that it wasn't untrue, he made his sad face....poor man.]

He blamed it all on a tragic miscommunication, and vowed to make it up to me....

His first attempt, the day after V-Day, well, it didn't work out as he'd hoped...


He, sweetly, brought me home a heart-shaped box of candy, a box of jellybellys, and a silly singing monkey*...


All super valentinesy.  Yay!!!

Except I hate boxed candy.
And Jellybeans.
He has been told this before. Often.


He forgets things. Often.

Hello!! He was focused on the Valentine's Day theme....
Made perfect sense.

I just had to laugh.  It was too funny not to laugh.
Husby just made his sad face again.
Poor, sad, spouseface.


He was going to make it up to me, damn it!
What did I want?



What did I want?????



SPRINKLES CUPCAKES.
(which I had mentioned several times BEFORE Valentines Day...ahem.)


Ohhhhhhh yes.

So.very.Deeeelish....

OH! And lunch at my favorite Mexican joint that we never go to because it's 40 minutes away.

Ummmmm, what could be better?!

Nothing.  



So last Saturday?  
That's what I got. 
Cupcakes and CheesyMexicanBuenoness....
 YUM. 

It was a great day. For the whole Family! 
(O had a quesadilla and got beans in his hair, hooray!) 

Husband is all redeemed and stuff.  He is a peach of a man.


But really?
If we're honest about the situation?
This was all my fault.

So sayeth my loving husband:

If you had just dictated to me what you wanted, then I would have gotten it, and everyone would've been happy.  I need you to help me help YOU be happy. Just ask and you shall receive...oh, and write it down, 'kayThanks.**


Sigh.

Dictation it is!

My birthday is next month....
You better believe there is going to be a list!

I'm going to start that list as of....
now.

When it's done, I will post it here.

It will be Written AND Public.


I shall be blameless and well-gifted.


Ha.





[Just so you don't think he's all neglected, he got some pretty awesome gifties, FYI]















*Okay, the monkey?  He has these huge cartoony Frank eyes and sings the L.O.V.E Song.  Tre Creepy....
O loves it!


**He really would give me just about anything I want...if he could just remember what it was....writing down and blatant hints that aren't really hints but flat-out requests + reminders are key in our marriage.  I need to let go of the surprise option....see?  It really IS my fault!  Shhh.  Don't tell him....

Tantrumatized...

O is just about 16 months, but the Terrible Twos are in full swing over at my(ish) house....

Tantrum City!

I'd always sorta secretly hoped that through my sure-to-be-genius parenting, I would escape the screamy stalemates of tantrums.

Pssssh.
So foolish, I was....

O is a sweet boy.  But he is curious and stubborn and determined and smart.
He has got THINGS to DO.
Do not get in his way...
Do not thwart is path....

It will end badly.

Tears and arching and screams. Bloodcurdling screams.  ::Shiver::

I try to always be calm.  To explain the whys.
To acknowledge that he is upset and frustrated.
And that THAT  sucks...

BUT, Mommy and Daddy make the rules.
And sometimes the things he wants are off-limits (mostly because of safety/nutrition)...

It should totally be a peaceful exchange. Duh.

Except you cannot reason with a toddler.
He does not give two shits about safety or nutrition.
He has a world to explore and put in his mouth.
I am stagnating his journey of self-discovery.
And that, friends?


Is totally harshing his mellow.

Yesterday I was really stressed about this tantruming situation.

What if this becomes a habit?
What if he develops a behavioral issue?
Am I not doing enough as his Mama?
Am I too soft?
Am I too hard?
Is he going to end up on America's Most Wanted?

[They'll interview me about his victims as they flash all the pictures of his sweet little baby face....I can see it now.......Ahem.]

Perhaps, I spiraled a bit?

Anyway, later that evening after O went to bed my husband and I were talking about something and he brought up an issue that was absolutely going to fucking leadboot my plans....

I.was.LIVID.

I'm just trying to accomplish this simple g-ddamned thing and I'm being stopped at every turn!

WHYTHEFUCKCAN'TIJUSTDOTHISONETHING??? 

Frustrated, I commenced in raging to (not at) the husband about the injustice of it all and slamming shit around my desk...

After he fled, under the guise of cooking dinner, I raged on in my head and slammed some more shit....

Then the lightbulb went off:


Fuck.

The apple doesn't scream too loud from the tree....

O is totally his mother.
Including her temper.

He gets frustrated because he is constantly getting stopped from doing what he sees as necessary, AND he can't express himself on the issue-- other than to scream and cry.....

[Something I was pretty much doing last night]

My frustration at not being able to do what I see as necessary and my inability to express myself on the matter?


Totally harshes my mellow.


Sigh.

Sorry little man.  I feel your pain.  I really do.









But the toilet is still off-limits at the moment.  Mommy loves you.

Why ya gotta do me like that, Valentine's Day?

I'm sorta sappy, and huggy and lovey and stuff.

I adore a good Real-Life love story, I cry at weddings, etc.

It would follow that Valentine's Day would be one of my favorite holidays...

But Valentine's Day can kiss my ass.

It pretty much, without fail, always lets me down.

And it ain't my expectations, I can tell you that much.

I know we've never had any money, so all I really want is a token, a small romantic gesture.

A little bouquet of flowers (from like TJ's, not a doz. roses)...
Maybe a little love note?
Perhaps heart-shaped cookie?
A mix tape?
Or, dinner at our favorite burger hole, but we have to get all dressed up?
A Romantic Movie?
Something that he put some thought into.

SOMETHING!

Sigh.
But, there's always a road block to my romantical hopes.
My husband.

He is loving and affectionate and wonderful, but he's not romantic.

Our first Valentine's Day together, He bought me a comic book (he also didn't make reservations anywhere, nor were there any flowers or cards to speak of).  I like comic books, but I'm not an avid fan, so I was pretty sure that was his way of telling me he wanted to just be friends....nope, he's just not the romantic sort....

Sigh...

Part of the problem are his delusions of grandeur.
I think he feels like if it doesn't involve diamonds and tropical getaways, it's just not worth doing.
Which in it's own way, is romantic, albeit it completely neurotic.

I will say, this year, was not TOTALLY his fault.

I got sick on Friday, and continued to get worse through the weekend. By yesterday, I was running a fever and could barely breathe.

[Also? On Sunday? My iTouch was accidentally  drowned. Completely.Shitty.Weekend]

So off to the doctor, I went.  Exam, Steroid shot-in-the-ass, xrays and $500 later, I'm sent home with a massive respiratory infection and a prescription.

Really? FML.

(Today, I have a follow up that's probably going to cost me around $200.)

Not feeling the love.

So I call my dear, sweet, husband to tell him what's going on, and also to tell him how much I love him, and he's my favorite Valentine, etc.  Apologize that I couldn't get him a card...which he's understanding about because I'm so ill.  And Frankly? He doesn't really care.  He's a dude.

So on his way home he calls and asks if he can bring me anything home.
When I'm sick, I want Cheezits and Gatorade.  I just do.
So he assures me that he will pick it up and be on his way....



Here's where I should know better. 
He'll come home and hand me Cheezits and Gatorade.
He'll give me a kiss and say how sorry he is that I feel like crap.

But he will not surprise me a card, or flowers, or a Valentine's cookie. No matter how much I hope he will.

Sigh.

He would if I asked him too, but where's the romaticalness in that?

That's RIGHT. There is NONE.


SIGH.

But I know he loves me.  With all his heart.  And?  I did get my Cheezits.

Some girls get candlelight, some get snack crackers.
Love takes all kinds, I guess.



I love you Querido.




I hope you all felt the love this Valentine's Day...in your own "special" way.

XOXOX!

CJ

Not an Edit, but a Revisit...

    I'm getting a cold....(I hope it's just a cold)

    Again.

    I immediately started panicking about having to go to the doctor.

    (no insurance=panic)

  It was making for kind of a Debbie-Downer kind of day.... 

Which reminded me of a post that had been nibbling at me: 

Remember my my post about Optimism?  Or, rather, my struggle with Optimism? 

I was not happy with the piece.  I didn't feel like I had articulated my feelings on the issue (my issues). 

From the second I hit "Publish," I was worried that people would read it and think that I was a really negative person....something I'm really not. 

I didn't take the post down, because it was where I was in that moment, and honestly?  I couldn't think of another way I wanted to address the post, so fuck it. 

But then I got an awesome comment of encouragement from my dear friend Andrea...Here's a snippet:

"...I think that if getting you through the day is to prepare for the worst and let optimism fly out the window, then more power to you. Seriously...."

I was so thankful for that.  I responded lengthily right.a-way.

 After reading my response to her comment a few times over, I realized that THAT was what I had been trying to say on the first go...

I was going to attempt to flesh that comment into its own post, but I'm feeling crappy and would rather watch a movie, so I'm just going to paste in (with a little bit of editing because this was originally typed via my iTouch) my response:

[Makes more sense, I think....?]

    "Yeah-Thanks so much for this comment! I really appreciate it. 

It's not optimism as a whole that I have a problem with, it's that 

"forced cheerfulness"  and "fantasyland optimism" that we seem to be forcing ourselves into as a society. 

Nothing is ever allowed to not be okay. 

Any time someone mentions how a portion or a time in life is hard, they are bombarded with reasons as to why it's "not that bad" and why the person should be happy. 

Planning for the possibility of hard times has become a character flaw. 

Acknowledging the toll that hardships take on you/your family has somehow been translated into ungratefulness. 

Rough times are turned into "blessings in disguise", disappointments become "lessons that needed to be learned",  disasters are not disastrous, but a healthy dose of "character-building"--and so on...

While I absolutely believe that you learn from the experiences in life, and need to look for the good in your life-not wallowing in negativity, I think we need to be a bit more realistic with ourselves. With each other.

Sometimes life is hard. 

Really fucking hard, and things don't always work out for the best. 

Most of life not going to just fall together happily in our laps. 

It takes work and planning and honesty about what lies ahead. 

And sometimes, even with all the planning or smiles in the world? 

It's not so positive. 

I wish that that could be talked about without the penalty of the label of Negative Nelly McUnappreciative Pants."

I am not a Negative Nelly McUnappreciative Pants.
But I'm not a Positive Polly McRainbowsandUnicorns Pants, either.

Does that make ANY sense?

Looking for the Buddy to my Bosom. Wait, no....

No one wants to be "that" mom...

The mom that is always inappropriately dressed....

Boobs 'a Brazen-
Too Much for Tots-
Cut Down to her Carnals- kind of Mama.

We'll all seen it.
We've all sighed
Shook our heads...

Guys?

I feel like I'm totally that mom at play gym....

I've got some boobs. Always have.

42 F is not something that goes unnoticed.

They announce themselves before I even finish coming thru the door.

It's a little less alarming now that I'm a bigger girl (sigh), but they still say hello to ya right off that bat...

Just cover them up, right? A good turtleneck, and we're on the modesty train! Chaaaaaste! Chaaaaste!



But I fucking.hate.turtlenecks.
I hate anything high-necked.
I have a hard time wearing collared shirts.
I don't like anything around my neck.
It's tough to even wear necklaces sometimes.

So I tend to wear v-necks, tanks, and the like.

But when you're heftin' that much up top?  Everything is a "tit-top."  Cleavage Carnivale!

Before I became a Mama-not much of an issue, the cleaves of my bosoms were tasteful (most of the time. Ahem.) --but now that I have a little monkey who uses the fronts of my shirts as leverage, and needs me to bend over and crawl around on the floor?   NotSoMUCH.



I am sooooo that mom.
Whether I mean to be or not.
Crap.

This is a real issue with me. I have a "thing"about my neck.

But you can't exactly say:

Hey, fellow parents! While I know you may think I'm the trashy mom that's trying to flash her goods and steal a husband-it's actually QUITE the funny story.... You see, as a kid, I got the shit choked out of me a lot.  So stuff around my neck? Not too comfy. So, now you know this is all a silly misunderstanding!  We're all totally gonna laugh about this later, right?  Right??!

That little anecdote is bombing with the "Circle Time crowd," for sure.


Then a flash of brilliance!  I'll wear my husband's tees to play gym!  Yes!  Coverage!
The neck will drive me nuts, but I don't care!  I want to make friends, damn it!

Then I put one on and realized that I was fast-tracking myself onto an episode of  What Not To Wear, right quick....

Shit.

In South County OC, being the frumpy mom is seen as waaay worse than the breasty mom...True.Story.

Normally, I wouldn't give two shits about what someone thought of me, but when little ones are involved, it's good to toe the line a bit...have I mentioned that I want to make friends? Just one? Maybe?


My plan is this:

I can't go out and get a new wardrobe at the moment, so I'm going to go the undershirt route...men's, that is....

ModelMan's a little chesty himself...

I think these will work under a cuter top...not the epitome of a fashionista, but please.  I wasn't ever in that category anyway.  Best part? My neck is free, but the girls are locked down! Yay!

It's worth a shot, no?



We'll see what develops.....


[snicker.]