[Just so you know: I've yet to get more than maybe an hour of sleep tonight, so if this post has little coherence and order, there's nothing I can do about it.]
Here's the thing. Since I was a wee little one, I have had one drink preference: water. I love water. It is, by far, the most refreshing drink in the whole world. I love water so much that I have a 64 oz. jug that I used to fill with water and drink throughout my workday. (And now I can do it again since we have a fridge!) I usually had to refill it once I got home and would drink another half of the jug. I. Love. Water. On those few occasions that I eat at Raising Cane's or Chick-fil-A, I'll get a sweet tea with my combo meal. I do enjoy sweet tea sometimes. But I just really love water. So, as you can imagine, I don't ingest a whole lot of caffeine on a daily basis. My body is not used to caffeine. But you see, today (or rather, yesterday) I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad headache. It started throbbing somewhere around 11 in the morning. I took some ibuprofen which, as it turns out, were about as effective as taking some tic-tacs. Nothing changed. I waited a little while and took more ibuprofen. Nothing happened. Finally, somewhere around 7:00 pm, I took some Excedrin Migraine. You know what's in Excedrin Migraine? Caffeine. I don't know how much. But I do know this: I'm still awake. And I really feel inclined to blame the caffeine. And I don't like the caffeine. Because you know what's going to happen? At some point, the caffeine will wear off, and my body will realize I didn't sleep all night long. So then, I'll want to sleep most of the day. And then, I won't be tired when it's time to go to bed, so I'll be up all night long. And the vicious cycle will keep going.
Stupid caffeine.
You know what my husband recently introduced to me? The Cosby Show. I. Love. The Cosby Show. You would think that at some point in time I would have seen a rerun of this show. But I never have. So we started with the pilot episode and have gradually moved our way along. (We're somewhere in season two right now.) I just love the Huxtables. Dr. Huxtable just makes me laugh and laugh, and it's a good ol' time. I just have to wonder why this show never made it to Indonesia. I mean, we had the most random shows over there. You see, when I was in elementary and middle school, my sisters and I loved to watch TV when we got home. We usually made it home right around 3:30. We only had one channel that played any and all sitcoms/dramas/etc. that made it overseas, so we didn't have a whole lot of options. And on this channel, everyday at 3:30, we watched Happy Days. And then, once they had gone through the whole series, they started playing Family Ties. And then, once they ran out of those, they showed The Brady Bunch. And we watched them all. And now I feel as though I'm coming full circle. Well.. sort of.
And now we'll see if this caffeine has worn off. Good day to you all. Come again soon.
Friday, June 28, 2013
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
It's the Little Things in Life
For the last week and a half, I have been anxiously awaiting this day. I considered making a paper chain, so I could tear a piece off each day until I got to this day and, in the process, build up even more anticipation. OK, not really. But I'm still pretty excited. You see, today is the day we get our full-grown fridge. After we moved into this house, it took less than a day for us to realize it's difficult and expensive to live without a fridge. So we went the very next day to get one. And do you want to know the wonderful thing about desperately needing an appliance? You need to know about two weeks before you need the appliance that you're going to need the appliance so you can have it delivered by the time you need it. Ah, the joys. We ordered a very nice (perhaps even too nice) fridge that was on sale, and then found out that it would be almost two weeks till they could deliver it. But alas, that day has finally arrived.
Since our big fridge was two weeks away, we had to buy a little compact fridge. (I know that's redundant, but I really want to emphasize the word "compact.") Inside this little fridge, we can fit a couple juice bottles of water (because if you live in Texas, you have to refrigerate water for it to be cold--the cold water tap is simply "not scalding hot"), some milk, a couple containers of leftover macaroni and cheese/pasta roni, a container of ham, and some cheese. I can't even begin to explain how excited I am to get a full-grown fridge today. And then, after it's delivered and installed, I'm going to the store to buy real groceries. This is when I learn how to be a good shopper. Gone are the days of going to the store for three items, every two days. I remember in college, one of my friends' moms picked me up from the airport after a break of some sort. On the way back to their house, she needed to stop at the grocery store. It was a riveting experience for me. She knew exactly which part of the store to start her shopping so that, in the end, the items that could get easily squished or broken (bread and eggs) were on top of the cart! The cart was packed like an art form. I was completely awed. At this point, I'm still a novice grocery shopper. I go back and forth from one aisle to the next and then back again because I forgot something. Or, even more often, I pick up something in one aisle that we don't really need but in order to make it, I need something else from the aisle we were just in. It's a big convoluted mess!
It's now almost 10:30 am. My stomach is already growling for lunch (story of my life), and it seems the puppies want to go outside. Tatum gives a little yelp when she wants me to open the door. The one nice thing about Texas summer heat is that the puppies hate the sun. They only want to stay in the shade. So, if I go outside and make them run around in the sun, they're exhausted after about ten minutes. And then they sleep for an hour and a half. Ah, the little things.
Since our big fridge was two weeks away, we had to buy a little compact fridge. (I know that's redundant, but I really want to emphasize the word "compact.") Inside this little fridge, we can fit a couple juice bottles of water (because if you live in Texas, you have to refrigerate water for it to be cold--the cold water tap is simply "not scalding hot"), some milk, a couple containers of leftover macaroni and cheese/pasta roni, a container of ham, and some cheese. I can't even begin to explain how excited I am to get a full-grown fridge today. And then, after it's delivered and installed, I'm going to the store to buy real groceries. This is when I learn how to be a good shopper. Gone are the days of going to the store for three items, every two days. I remember in college, one of my friends' moms picked me up from the airport after a break of some sort. On the way back to their house, she needed to stop at the grocery store. It was a riveting experience for me. She knew exactly which part of the store to start her shopping so that, in the end, the items that could get easily squished or broken (bread and eggs) were on top of the cart! The cart was packed like an art form. I was completely awed. At this point, I'm still a novice grocery shopper. I go back and forth from one aisle to the next and then back again because I forgot something. Or, even more often, I pick up something in one aisle that we don't really need but in order to make it, I need something else from the aisle we were just in. It's a big convoluted mess!
It's now almost 10:30 am. My stomach is already growling for lunch (story of my life), and it seems the puppies want to go outside. Tatum gives a little yelp when she wants me to open the door. The one nice thing about Texas summer heat is that the puppies hate the sun. They only want to stay in the shade. So, if I go outside and make them run around in the sun, they're exhausted after about ten minutes. And then they sleep for an hour and a half. Ah, the little things.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
My Puppies Love the Bathtub
(I'll get to the titular topic later. It's a little trick to keep you reading. Hah!)
It was less than two weeks ago that I officially became a stay-at-home wife. Never once in my life did I imagine I would stay at home before I had kids. I always thought I'd be bored. And while I can honestly say there really isn't a whole lot for me to do just yet (except laundry once or twice a week.. wash dishes.. sweep.. vacuum.. run the dishwasher!), I know there will be eventually. Or at least, I imagine there will be. I mean, once we get a mop, I can add that to the list. Right now, we have been in our lovely new home for less than two weeks. It was a bit of a crazy ride. We went from my husband, Travis, graduating from college with no idea what he was going to be doing for almost a whole month to finding out on a Thursday that he got a job, Friday we made appointments to look at some houses, Monday we put in an application for the house we liked, Wednesday we signed the lease, Thursday we moved in, and now it's a week and a half later. And we're broke. But we are no longer living in a shoebox apartment with a leaky bathtub faucet and an air conditioner that breaks every few weeks. So all in all, we're pretty happy with where we are.
But as I said, we're pretty broke. We had to pay for a month and a half of rent, a security deposit (equal to one month's rent), and a pet fee for our furry family members. THEN, just to make sure I was really aware that I'm an official adult living in the real world, we had to bicker with a cable company for a few days; get our electricity, water, and trash set up; buy a washer, dryer, and refrigerator; and a guest bed (complete with a frame, box spring, sheets, and pillows). And then I dropped dead. Well, not really. On the positive side of this, a wonderful friend gave us a small dining room table (which is completely perfect for the two of us), so that was one less thing we had to buy. So, as all the expenses were piling up and the list of items we still need seemed to grow instead of shrink, I felt pretty horrible that I just stay home all day. But my wonderful husband actually wants me to stay home. I know that if I really wanted to work, he'd be fine with it. But he's going to be working the night shift, and neither of us like the idea of never seeing each other. And so we're back to the conclusion that staying home with the furry kids (otherwise known as puppies) is the best option. And I know the pups enjoy it.
So each day I watch my two puppies entertain each other (once, maybe twice a day I go out in the backyard with them to throw the ball a bit), and I marvel at the intelligence of these dogs. Back at our old apartment, as I already mentioned, our bathtub faucet dripped. Always. We told maintenance at least three times. They "fixed" it three times. And it still dripped. Well Sabre (our 9 1/2 month old puppy) loved to get in the bathtub and drink water straight from the dripping faucet. Especially after playing outside. Well, now we've moved into a house where the bathtub faucet does not drip, but Sabre doesn't really understand that. As soon as he comes inside from playing outside, he runs to the bathroom door (usually closed) and looks back at me--his way of asking me to open the door. The problem is, when I do open the door, he jumps in the bathtub and starts desperately trying to get water from the faucet. He even knows to "nose" the knob. He can't turn it. But he knows it brings out more water. And he's so pitiful, and I'm a sucker. Needless to say, I'm not helping to teach him that he should drink from his own water bowl. And now our little puppy, Tatum (almost four months old!) likes to sleep in the bathtub. She looks for water too, but mostly because she's seen Sabre do it. But every single time I get up to go to the bathroom, Little One follows me and climbs into the bathtub and falls asleep. And she doesn't follow me out. It's kind of adorable though.
It was less than two weeks ago that I officially became a stay-at-home wife. Never once in my life did I imagine I would stay at home before I had kids. I always thought I'd be bored. And while I can honestly say there really isn't a whole lot for me to do just yet (except laundry once or twice a week.. wash dishes.. sweep.. vacuum.. run the dishwasher!), I know there will be eventually. Or at least, I imagine there will be. I mean, once we get a mop, I can add that to the list. Right now, we have been in our lovely new home for less than two weeks. It was a bit of a crazy ride. We went from my husband, Travis, graduating from college with no idea what he was going to be doing for almost a whole month to finding out on a Thursday that he got a job, Friday we made appointments to look at some houses, Monday we put in an application for the house we liked, Wednesday we signed the lease, Thursday we moved in, and now it's a week and a half later. And we're broke. But we are no longer living in a shoebox apartment with a leaky bathtub faucet and an air conditioner that breaks every few weeks. So all in all, we're pretty happy with where we are.
But as I said, we're pretty broke. We had to pay for a month and a half of rent, a security deposit (equal to one month's rent), and a pet fee for our furry family members. THEN, just to make sure I was really aware that I'm an official adult living in the real world, we had to bicker with a cable company for a few days; get our electricity, water, and trash set up; buy a washer, dryer, and refrigerator; and a guest bed (complete with a frame, box spring, sheets, and pillows). And then I dropped dead. Well, not really. On the positive side of this, a wonderful friend gave us a small dining room table (which is completely perfect for the two of us), so that was one less thing we had to buy. So, as all the expenses were piling up and the list of items we still need seemed to grow instead of shrink, I felt pretty horrible that I just stay home all day. But my wonderful husband actually wants me to stay home. I know that if I really wanted to work, he'd be fine with it. But he's going to be working the night shift, and neither of us like the idea of never seeing each other. And so we're back to the conclusion that staying home with the furry kids (otherwise known as puppies) is the best option. And I know the pups enjoy it.
So each day I watch my two puppies entertain each other (once, maybe twice a day I go out in the backyard with them to throw the ball a bit), and I marvel at the intelligence of these dogs. Back at our old apartment, as I already mentioned, our bathtub faucet dripped. Always. We told maintenance at least three times. They "fixed" it three times. And it still dripped. Well Sabre (our 9 1/2 month old puppy) loved to get in the bathtub and drink water straight from the dripping faucet. Especially after playing outside. Well, now we've moved into a house where the bathtub faucet does not drip, but Sabre doesn't really understand that. As soon as he comes inside from playing outside, he runs to the bathroom door (usually closed) and looks back at me--his way of asking me to open the door. The problem is, when I do open the door, he jumps in the bathtub and starts desperately trying to get water from the faucet. He even knows to "nose" the knob. He can't turn it. But he knows it brings out more water. And he's so pitiful, and I'm a sucker. Needless to say, I'm not helping to teach him that he should drink from his own water bowl. And now our little puppy, Tatum (almost four months old!) likes to sleep in the bathtub. She looks for water too, but mostly because she's seen Sabre do it. But every single time I get up to go to the bathroom, Little One follows me and climbs into the bathtub and falls asleep. And she doesn't follow me out. It's kind of adorable though.
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