Friday, February 14, 2014

Its Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day, all. Happy holiday created by Hallmark to sell you stuff and make you feel guilty for all the stuff you haven't done yet. And if you say Happy V-D you better be saying it to an ex that told you that Star Wars was stupid or someone that killed your cat or dog because they were taking too much of your attention. Because VD is the best gift you can give that person.

So it is no surprise that I am a horrible gift giver. If you have ever gotten a good gift from me, it probably came from my wife. I lack all thought and preparation. I usually don't think about the occasion until it is very, very near.  Like the day of, or even in some cases the day after. So if you've gotten something totally weird, inappropriate, or downright idiotic it most likely came directly from me.

That being said, I had this great idea for a Valentine's Day gift for the Mrs. I will call it the Why I Love You Project. Over the last week or so, I wrote down the reasons why I love my wife and planned to give them to her throughout the day.  After I sent the first one I added #wily, hoping she would get the reference.  She didn't and I had to explain it. We so aren't Twitter people. It is no secret that I despise the hashtag.  Check out the Fallon/Timberlake skit about it, here.  I'm with ?uestlove on this one. He is the best. If you don't know him, check him out. But I had to use the hashtag (#).  Mainly because I was too lazy to type Why I Love You after every thing.  It was all about time management. The hashtag:  the perfect combination of laziness and efficiency.

I won't go into all the reasons but here are a few that I have sent so far:

Why I love you
You are beautiful
Your pretty blond hair
You support me in whatever I do
Your determination and 
Your drive 
The way you help people
Your (mostly) even tempered parenting style
You look good in anything you wear

The way you brighten any room you enter

Sappy? I know. But it's Valentine's Day and that is what Hallmark wants. I do not want to upset the capitalistic Gods. 

There are more. I am not going to post them here because my wife is a loyal reader and I don't want to spoil it for her. Trust me. They are sappy, some are funny and all are from the heart.

So married, dating, friends-with-benefits friends, families, random strangers, please join the project. Tell someone why you love them today and every day.  You can use the "#" if you want, but I will NOT be checking. I am already cringing at thinking about it. 

#rantingsofastayathomedad (cringe)

Friday, February 7, 2014

Its Been A Long Time...... Since I've been writing.....

My life pretty much stays the same. Day in. Day out. Occasionally something comes by and throws a wrench in the schedule, but even the wrench doesn't bother me that much.  Occasionally. But this day was the same, aside from some snow and some more snow and then some more snow.

This is the before photo.  
I don't have an after because I am too lazy to go upstairs and take another pic.  
You can use you imaginations.

Many know that we are expecting another mouth to feed in late March. And if you didn't know, you do now. While we were getting pummeled by the biggest winter storm of the year (it was just a normal Connecticut storm; only twelve inches. Hardly anything to bat an eyelash at. We've had worse. Like the year we got almost 100 inches, most of which were major storms. None of this two inches of snow that shut down the south. That year we got storms that dropped FEET of snow, so one measly foot ain't nutin) we thought (and by we, I mean my lovely beautifully pregnant wife) it would be good to ready the baby's room in case things needed to progress faster than the scheduled C-section. Things happen, I understand. High blood pressure, PUPS (A.K.A. itchiness from the depths of a really hot, despicable place), alien hijacking, and any and all other random things that can happen to a pregnant woman.  I agree to tidy up and wash baby clothes and get all the other things in order to lessen the load IF something progresses quicker than the schedule.

Side note: Laundry is relaxing for me. Watching some Cheer's on Netflix and tackling the load of the day.  Half hour and I'm done. That's normal people's clothing. Folding baby clothes takes forever.  There are way too many things for one load.  Tiny socks. Tiny Onesies. (I can't figure out how to put in a registered trademark sign here so Gerber, don't come after me for using your product name. I mean, everyone calls them Onesies. I don't think I've ever heard anyone refer to them as "body suits." And besides, aren't body suits the things girls wore when I was in middle school? Those snaps were impossible) Little pants. Little hats. Little blankets. Little everything. I guess its just been quite a while since I've done a load of baby clothes. Like three years.

Back to the story, I arrange the tiny washed and folded clothes (all of which are unisex colored because we don't find out what we are having. Something has got to be a surprise these days.) in drawers and in the closet the way I think will be most logical. Honestly, I really don't care. I was just trying to do something so I didn't look outside and think about shoveling.

I would like to say I finished organizing everything and the room looked immaculate. I would like to tell you that I am an organizational mad man. I would like to be a millionaire. Unfortunately none of those things are true. But I did get a head start.

What happened while I was out shoveling, snow blowing, and playing the Driveway Clearing Fairy (I cleared off my neighbor's driveway while they were at work and it felt good to do good) the room mysteriously tidy'ed itself. Thanks to my wife for finishing what I started. I would have gotten to it, eventually. And besides, she knows where things are supposed to go. It's not like I don't know where everything else is in the house. I think she just did it to keep my on my toes. Throw me a curveball. Making me learn a new room. Or she just didn't like my organizational skills. Whatever the reason, it is done.

The moral of the story is people think and organize differently. What works for you probably won't work for them. One can't know for sure what the other is thinking, unless they are twins because they have that twin thing where they communicate with each other telepathically and freak people out. (We AREN'T having twins. Just one, that's all we've seen on the funny machine that looks into the belly) And if I were to know what another human was thinking, I would be a lot richer (see above about what I would like) and women wouldn't confuse the living daylights out of me.

[And I would like to thank my band mate for inspiring the title of this blog. (Just sing it and it will come to you) And if you want to hear what I mean, by all means come to Torrington tomorrow night (2/8) and catch our set. Sorry International readers, we don't have streaming. Just hop on a flight and it will be a fun adventure. We will be done by 9 so you can still get home to catch the late news! Unless you are catching a flight back to Europe.]