So, Happy 6th Wedding Anniversary to Wolf and I! Wow...6 yrs. Boggles my mind. I won't waste time contemplating the crimes I could have committed and be paroled for by now, because that would just be a downer. But 6 yrs! That's somewhat impressive...unless you're Sm, or other folks like her that have been married for 17 yrs and the like. 6 years is impressive to ME, ok? :oP
Anyways, Wolf and I have been in a wee bit of a financial bind. I've kept it out of the blog, but its pertinent to this story, so thats why I'm mentioning it here. We're so freaking broke its scary.
So, my gf K came by last night with some groceries that she'd pulled from her storage. She swears her husband, 'Costco J' buys apple juice and ketchup by the vat. She had asked that Wolf go out to the car to bring the stuff in. No prob.
What I didn't know was that the sneaky wench had something up her sleeve. $10 to be precise. Which she slipped to my husband, with the commandment,
"Thou shalt by thy wife an anniversary card. And not one of those funny ones either, Bub. It better be romantic, got it?"
I woke up this afternoon (yes, I was allowed to sleep in...until 1230, at which point folks started to worry that I wasn't actually sleeping but had died, and the attempts to check my pulse woke me) to find a lovely card on my night table. It plays, "How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You." What really, REALLY got me was what Wolf wrote on the inside. Its intensely personal and private, so I'm not sharing it :oP but it rocked me...One of those, "Wow...he really *does* get it" moments...he really does understand how much I do work at this whole marriage gig some days. Sometimes I feel like I'm invisible, ya know? That he just doesn't see. But he does. And that means more to me than anything else he could possibly have bought or given me today.
Dang. I absolutely DID marry the right guy...and he's bought himself another year of it...poor bugger.
I think its starting to set in. I've even changed my name, and am toying with changing it back again.
Bear with me.
I've been Domestic Goddess for a bit, simply because it makes me snicker at the complete oxymoron at ME being labelled a Domestic Goddess. A prime example of sarcasm at its finest. So, I switched to Not A Stepford Wife on my profile.
But then, I started reading through my posts, and dang, I refer to myself as Domestic Goddess a LOT on here. Which would mean a LOT of editing.
And I'm one handed typing.
Or just lazy.
We'll stick with the one handed typing. And as much as I am very definately the prime living breathing ultimate example of Not A Stepford Wife, its a dang long name to have...so I'm going back to the Domestic Goddess.
Plus...it makes Wolf's eye twitch in that really neat way every time he happens to read over my shoulder and sees it.
*grin*
And I realize that's not a HUGE shock to anyone that knows me in the slightest (aka has read here a time or two) but geez, folks...every now and then it catches ME off guard, k? Cause certain levels of weird are just beyond acceptable.
Take this am for example. I was still in a lousy mood from the rejection of the short story contest, and ended up blubbering again telling Wolf about it, since he'd already gone to bed when I read the email. Now, at first he tried the old, "they don't know what they're missing, buncha jerks, try again, rah rah rah" speech thing that for some reasons guys actually think will make a woman feel better. WHY? I mean, seriously, does it EVER work?
For any male readers that may be lurking, or that may ever stumble across this article or blog, let me, the Domestic Goddess, author of Not A Stepford Wife give you this one bit of advice that will automatically put you at the head of the line when it comes to boyfriend-hood, and winning the husband awards.
When your girlfriend/fiancee/wife/live-in/significant other has had a disappointment and is upset, tell her you're sorry and HUG HER. Honestly, it will work wonders. You don't actually have to say anything else in particular, perhaps an 'mmmmhhhmmm' or an 'uh huh', but holding her and rocking her will cover everything. I promise you, saying "I'm sorry" is not always an admission of guilt! Honest!!
Now, *my husband* doesn't take that kind of advice. Nope. He stands there in the kitchen, looks at me with tears running down my face, and asks, "Are you drunk?"
I kid you not.
Now, the fact that we're flat freaking broke and have no booze in the house so its a freaking impossibility to start with aside...oy.
Then, I had emailed my gf K when I got the response...forwarded it to her. She responded this am. Thought it was an April Fools gag.
I kid you not.
She had to CALL ME to confirm that no, this was not a prank I was pulling, this was seriously the situation. I'll take that as a serious vote of confidence as to my talent as a fiction writer and the strength of the entry I submitted.
Crazy day.
Hannah's doctor's have stabalized her enough that she's going to have surgery today. It could be as long as 17 hours. They had been keeping her in a medical coma, but she woke up enough before her surgery this am to smile at her mom before being taken for surgery.
The surgery itself is very risky, as the tumour has at least attached itself to one of her kidneys. If everyone could please pray, vibe, do what ever you do according to your beliefs for Hannah and her parents today, I know they would appreciate it.
No child should be going through this. I know it happens every day...but that doesn't make it right...at least not in my heart.
UPDATE:
THE TUMOUR IS OUT!!! Thanks to everyone for their prayers and support! That the drs were able to get the tumour out completely is a miracle in itself! There may be chemo in the future, but at this point, it can be said that the surgery was a success! Thank you, everyone, and THANK YOU GOD!!!
I'm sitting here crying. No, my family is all well, thanks. No, I'm not hurt (anymore than usual) or damaged more than normal.
I had the first results come in from my short story contests that I'd entered. It was from the story that I was most sure of, most proud of, was so certain was the BEST work that I'd done.
Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero.
So, I sit here, sobbing like a spoiled child whose just been told she can't have the chocolate treat she wants.
I know, I KNOW intellectually what a crapshoot these contests are, that what one editor considers a steaming pile of dung another considers the literary boon to mankind. I know that.
I also know that literary accomplishment aside, placing in the contest would have meant some badly needed funds into the Stepford home.
So I'm sitting here crying.
I'll get my spoiled rump off to bed shortly. Assuming I quit sucking my thumb long enough, of course.
This daily blog thing isn't as easy as you think, ya know. I'm trying though. Because I keep my promises, dang it.
That, and I'm just plain stubborn. Ask Sm, she knows. She won't hesitate to confirm the fact either, at the slightest prompting. And at length. In detail. Great detail. Minute detail.
Then again, my tendency to babble and ramble is one of the reasons that I'm a pretty good blogger, so I suppose the command to 'watch the scenery, Dear' perhaps wasn't one of the better pieces of advice offered to me :oP
Suppose I should explain that tidbit.
Ok. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back when, before I was a Domestic Goddess, I was a Goddette. (Shup, Sm.) Roll with it people. Yes, I made up the term, Goddette. Deal with it.
Anyways, one fine weekend, I was invited to join Sm and her folks and go to her grandparents. We had a blast, although there was a bit of confusion on the way up as to why there seemed to be bits of misting rain every now and then. (Turned out Sm's Dad is a joker and was deliberately shooting off his windshield wiper fluid so it would drift back on to her windshield. We were teenagers, k? Not so much on the bright part? Hello? Hormones? ok? 'nuff said.)
So, there's me. Grand old age of 16? 17? New place. Never met the grandparents before. Feeling a wee bit uncomfy. So I do what I do best. Babble. Incessantly. Until Sm's Grandma, bless her heart, love her always, kindly reaches over, pats my hand, smiling, and quietly says, "Dear, why don't you watch the scenery?"
Understand, it was said with such a smile, and in such a tone, that you would have thought at first blush it was a compliment...took a full 30 seconds for it to register in my brain that I'd just been royally put in my place by a Master. The entire family roared with laugher, myself included.
One of the best weekends, if not THE best weekend I can remember of my childhood.
Thanks, Sm, for sharing your grandma with me that weekend. Give her my love, and tell her that I still don't watch the scenery as much as I ought to!
====================
A Mom on a message board I'm a member of has a little girl that I'd appreciate everyone keeping in their thoughts and prayers. Hannah went from having the sniffles on the weekend to being rushed to the ER with breathing issues. She was found to have a cancerous tumour today, and even the surgery is life threatening. If everyone would please pray, or do what you do for Hannah and her family, I would appreciate it, and I know they would too. For those of you who have blogs, please feel free to share Hannah's story on your blog, to let your readers know of her, so that they can pray for her too. She can use all the prayer she can get.
*Ahem, ahem, ahem* Been fiddling around with the layout in these here parts. May I draw your attention to the lovely side bar, found on the left hand side of your screen. Yes, I've been reduced to following my own blogs. I realize how pathetic that is, but there's more to it than patheticness (is that a word? It is now, darn it!) It makes it easier for you, loyal reader (please, let there be one or two of you in existence) to follow me, even if you haven't been able to either a) figure out how to 'follow me' or b) get blogger to allow you to follow me.
Speaking of Blogger allowing things, I've heard from a few folks that Blogger won't let them comment...either at all, or on a consistent basis. So, in the interest of ego stroking (my own) and cutting down on frustration (yours) I offer you my email address if you would like to comment on a blog entry but Blogger isn't cooperating.
domestic.goddess.blogs@gmail.com
How special is that? Yes, I opened the email just for my blogs. All together now, awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!! That's how much my ego strokes, I mean readers mean to me.
I'll even post it in the left hand side bar for your communication convenience. What more could you ask for from a Domestic Goddess?
More posting, yeah yeah yeah.
I'm working on it, people! Sheesh! There are THREE blogs on the go now, ya know.
*sigh*
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