Little Boys

I will rewrite the lyrics to that wonderful song that Carol Burnett sings in the movie "Annie." And I will then go buy a big bottle from the DI (like big poppa's), climb half-clothed into my very small tub, and sing it at the top of my lungs.

Thursday, I almost killed someone at work. Not a resident. A coworker. The Lord was on my side and inspired two people to work so I could have Friday and Saturday off, added to my normal weekend. So the past three days, we've had the little guys. It was a fairly good weekend. But MAN! I'm EXHAUSTED! They have SOOO much energy and, like little boys do, are just constantly picking on each other and getting into stuff. Moroni found the matches (in the new spot) again and almost burned the house down. And I spent 8 bucks on Pokeman cards. I'm such a sucker.

Last night, Cristina came and got the kids around 6, and we just laid on the couch and watched that one movie with Steve Martin and Queen Latifah. I can't remember what it's called. Anyway, tomato soup at 8:30 and in bed by 9:15. It really is true, being married makes you kind of boring! Oh well, I may be boring, but I'm happy anyway. Happy, and EXHAUSTED.

the 12 days of wedding

We're actually on day number 11. Perhaps I will recompose this song from hell- but today, day 11, is certainly "11 dollars in my bank account. Lucky for me payday is Friday. You know, I don't have cold feet really. But as Alfredo just informed that he owed $537 in state taxes, I am wondering from which angle Satan will "mis-aim" or maybe just throw me a bone instead of a bill, or a psychotic ex-wife. Because I cannot handle much more. I have no money. He has no money. And I don't know how we are going to pay for anything anymore. I am, literally, spent. And I know that the past few weeks I have looked like crap, and people have said "You look like you have something on your mind." IT'S BECAUSE I DO. I am constantly thinking about his kids, his ex-wife, our debt, when can I move into his place, I need to get rid of my stuff, my car needs so much work done, will we have the kids for the wedding, and there's even more. As I said before, I do not have cold feet. It's quite amazing, and a little bit gushy, that though I feel like we are both being drug through hell itself right now, I would do it again (and probably will have to) for him. And I know he would do it for me. This whole "marriage" thing becomes more real to me every day. There are days when we are giddy and flirty and foolishly giggly because "we're getting married!!" And then there are days when we cry because things just keep happening. And I realize that our problems will not magically go away on February 6. They won't even pause. But I just want that day to get here so I can at least settle into our home, and to just be with my husband. It's strange. I thought it would never actually happen. And it's happening. In 11 days.

Chill Pills

Some people need them. Sometimes, I am some people. Let's talk about the concept of the phrase "Take a chill pill". I think the first person I heard say that phrase may or may not have been Kelly Kapowski on the 1990's super-cheesy sitcom "Saved by the Bell." Exactly what is a chill pill? Webster's Dictionary defines a chill pill as "something calming, relaxing, or reducing stress." To use in a sentence: "Wow, you just yelled at me for one minute straight. Take a chill pill." What a coincidince, I just said that exact sentence in my head to a resident's son yesterday. This man, a retired colonel (just like his father), always greets me with a side hug and a "How's my favorite lady?" when he walks in the door. We often joke. You could say we're good acquaintances. Yesterday, a new CNA was working on this hall- it was her first day passing meds and her first day on that hall. I went in early to pass meds with her. Came time to do rounds, and she went to do them while I finished her meds. After church, about an hour later, Colonel Junior comes in to get Papa Colonel, and Papa Colonel is wet. Because new CNA wasn't aware that Papa Colonel was supposed to have two attends pads on top of his brief. Which is an honest mistake, and a mistake that anyone could make, especially when new to the hall, and a little stressed under the circumstances. So instead of saying "I'm disappointed that my father is wet-" or having a mature adult conversation with me about solving a problem, he goes all "Captain Crazy" on me. Colonel Junior got in my face, and pointed his face a quarter of an inch away from my nose, and yelled and yelled. And yelled. Finally, after insulting me and making a racial slur to my coworkers, I said "you need to cool off" and we all walked out. I believe that he, at that time, needed a chill pill.

I could have used one yesterday too. That little incident got to me all day long, and I have been questioning whether or not I would actually accept an admin job, because I truly hate dealing with those kind of situations. And Alfredo was going to an important meeting, that I was a little stressed about. So, like a silly girl, I call him as soon as I know his meeting is thru. And it went really well. And I was relieved. And then he put his kids on the phone. The 8 year old wants to teach me drums. And he is excited to meet me. He even told me where he lives in case I want to play on a day when he is at his mommy's. Wouldn't that be fun. But after my long day of stress and emotions, I was given a really strong dosage of a chill pill. And I am so grateful for it.

¡Necessito Un Médico!

Which en espagnol means "I need a doctor." I have been neglecting my blog responsibilities. I need to catch up on all the latest words of all my blogging buds, because I have no idea what is going on outside of the last crazy week of my life. I don't mean to be selfish. Just am a little preoccupied. With a man. And boy is he great. The long and short of it is- I have a 37 year old boyfriend- and I think he really likes me! :o) I don't really know what to say, I think about him and I blush. And I know that we have all spent the last years of our friendship making fun of girls like me. But I can't help it! I'm giddy. And today, I bought a set of Spanish scriptures. Because he's teaching me Spanish. And I know that it's all a bit disgusting- and I even feel a little bit sappy- but he's pretty freakin awesome. And I'm pretty freakin happy. I'm just holding on to this rollercoaster I'm on- he's moving a little faster than I'm used to. But he's 37, and he's been married before. And I'm really ok with that. I'm gonna stop now.

Obrigato, Hallelujah!

Brazilian food is good. Argentinian man is better.

Baby's Got Sauce

And his name is Alfredo. Yes, another small entry about this Argentinian amour of mine. He is beatiful. And he got my numba off the schedule and called me for a date yesterday. I had just woken up from a nap, and called Christin, and my call waiting was an unknown number. To my surprise, it was Alfredo. And he asked me if I would like to go out sometime. He said he has never been on a date in America, and he's not sure how its done, but he thought dinner might be nice. So as a result of this fun phone call, he is picking me up Saturday at 7. Three of my favorite things ever said:

"I know I'm a lot older than you, but I don't mind if you don't."

and

"I don't think you're supposed to say over the phone, but I really like you a lot and I want to know you better."

and

"You made my week!"

For the record, he is 37. Not 67. And he has two boys, ages 8 and 6. And he is gorgeous. I would like to advise all readers and friends, find yourself a foreigner. They do things a little bit differently than we Americans. It's kind of nice for a change.

Fanny

Some think of "Fanny" as a nicer word for buttocks. i.e. "Josh, when you're in the car, you need to sit on your fanny and stay buckled in." (Actual sentence said by actual family member) I, until today, have thought of Fanny as Barbra Streisand's character "Fanny Brice" in the beloved musical "Funny Girl." I love that movie. But now, Fanny has new meaning. Fanny is a sweet little old woman of 72 pounds. And she makes my day every day when I go in her room and she sits up and kisses me on the cheek. She's always happy to see me. And I love that. And for the record it's not those kisses that you really don't want. She's a clean lady. And she smells like flowers. All that said, Fanny, I think you're so great. And as I've said before, if there was a way for me to share my weight with you, I totally would. Remember to use your walker. Thank you, Fanny. Thank you.