Good Friday (Grateful Friday)

I’ve been super grouchy lately.  It could have something to do with the fact that we are still very much in the endless throes of winter here in Upstate NY — is it too much to ask for the thermometer to break 40F on Easter Sunday?  It could also have something to do with the fact that I got trolled hard in a mommy group on Facebook yesterday — why are virtual peeps so mean?  Or it could have everything to do with the fact that, after four years of sweet bliss, I am finally suffering from the girl flu again.  (But can I really complain about a four-year break?  Prolly not.  Thank you, back-to-back pregnancies and breastfeeding gods).

Regardless of my grump, today is Good Friday.  Now, I’m no religious scholar, but I’m pretty sure the “good” in Good Friday doesn’t have to do with good feels (because I googled it).  But, hey, I can take some creative liberties.  So, in the spirit of good-ness, and in an effort to boost my crappy mood, here are 5 things that I’m grateful for today:

  1. Easter is upon us.  Which means Easter candy is upon us.  Now, I told Hubby the same thing I tell him every year: all I want is a freaking peanut-butter-filled chocolate bunny.  Every year he forgets.  Every year I let it go, because come on, I have 32-year-old metabolism.  But this year … this year I was cleaning out some kitchen cabinets and stumbled upon it.  A peanut-butter-filled chocolate bunny that he must have purchased behind my back, and is hopefully saving to give to me on Easter morning.  I know it’s only March, so is it too early to award him Hubby of the Year?  (Please, for both our sakes, let the bunny actually be for me.)
  2. Zzzzzzz.  Because I have no regard for my well-being, I am going to go ahead and disrespect the sleep gods here:  Ever since last week’s bitch fest about Ell-Bell’s atrocious sleep habits, baby girl has been sleeping much better at night.  I mean you guys, last night honeyboo didn’t even wake up for the first time until 5:30 in the morning! What? Of course she’s just trolling me, lulling me into a false sense of security so that I fall that much harder when she wakes up 5 times tonight.  But still, I’ll take a few nights in a row of good sleep!
  3. Things are about to get romantical.  The in-laws are coming for a visit next week.  Ugh, I know, there’s nothing romantic about that.  But of course, the silver lining is that they provide free and relatively safe-ish child care, which means Hubby and I are about to go on our first date in four months!  I am way excited, and I don’t know if I’ve ever spent so much mental energy planning a 3-4 hour block of time in my life.  I’m thinking sushi and a movie, but my god, the possibilities are endless!  (Side note: can somebody teach me how to hire a real babysitter?  I’m guessing it would be a good thing to not wait four months between dates).
  4. I’m basically an Olympian.  Okay, I’m not, at all.  I am actually that mushy-armed person at the gym who only ever runs on the treadmill — the one who everyone looks at and says, “girlfriend, you need to get off that treadmill and do some actual push-ups.”  But hey, I’ve been back to running pretty consistently for the better part of a year now and I am feeling really good about it.  I’m getting faster, I’m running longer, and gosh darnit, I might even get brave enough to run outside one of these days.  I just need a babysitter real quick.
  5. I get to spectate all the sports.  I don’t care what you say, I like to watch golf on TV, ok?  It’s relaxing.  For me, April (snow) showers mean only one thing:  it’s time to watch some golf hotties navigate the Augusta greens at the Masters.  Of course, my in-laws will be in town during coverage because OF COURSE THEY HAVE TO COME during the Masters basically EVERY SINGLE YEAR.  But whatever.  I’m also giddy for NBA playoffs and more golf and tennis tourneys on the horizon, for those keeping track.  (Holler at me if you are also secretly in love with at least half of the men’s tennis field, we might have to be besties).

So there you have it.  What’s on your grateful list this Good Friday?  Wishing everyone a happy passover, Easter, or whatever else you may be celebrating in the next few days.

Until next time,

Vee

 

 

#NaBloPoMo Day 2: None of My Exes Live in Texas

I’m blogging every single day in November, and I’m totally happy to share my list of amateur daily themes if you’re interested in joining me.  In yesterday’s inaugural NaBloPoMo post, I dished about how much I lurv my Hubby.  Out of the fire and back into the frying pan: today’s theme is Ex-Boyfriends.

Do you remember all of your break ups? I cannot for the life of me remember how or why I broke up with my first boyfriend.  At least I think I’m the one who did the breaking up …

Now, I’m calling him my first boyfriend, but technically, he was my second.  I guess I just don’t really count the guy who asked me to be his girlfriend in 9th Grade, since I had my friend break up with him for me the very next day.  (If you talk during the movie we’re watching, you’re gonna get the axe. Sorry.)

And maybe you’re thinking, if I don’t remember my first breakup, it must be because I’ve had so many I can’t keep them straight.  Hah, fooled you!  I am the proud owner of two whole ex-boyfriends (three if you count Mr. Movie Talker).

I do, however, remember the How and Why of my break up with my second boyfriend.  Let’s call him Preston.  As for the How, well, technically, Preston broke up with me.  But I like to think that I expertly drove him crazy on purpose, in the hopes that he would end things so I wouldn’t have to.  Because conflict is gross, and I consider myself a nice person. (Nice enough to drive someone crazy for sixth months in order to avoid an hour of discomfort).

I remember we were on the phone — we were long distance at the time — and somehow we had finally mustered the courage to discuss whether we should call it quits.  I told him I would let him decide, and as he sat there ruminating for a few minutes, I remember praying to myself: “Please, pleaaase, please just break up with me already.”  And he did.  Thank gawd.

As for the Why, well, the main thing was that Preston was a major douche.  (I mean, we did meet at a prep school in New England, so the douchery odds were never in his favor.)  He was super privileged and oblivious to hardship, and he said something once that offended me to my core.  During one of our many phone chats, he told me that he didn’t think he could ever be friends with someone who didn’t go to college.  Ew.  Ew! My skin still crawls when I think about it — so stuck up, so uninformed.  Honestly, when Preston said that, I knew we were done.  It sounds so trivial, but it just perfectly punctuated our entirely distinct world views.

Other than the fact that we were fundamentally completely different people, it was a young relationship and success just wasn’t in the cards.  We started dating when I was a senior in high school, and he was a year behind me.  We decided to stay together long-distance when I headed off to college, because we were stupid and that’s what stupid people do.  But Preston was really judgmental and mean every time I wanted to go out and have fun with my college friends.  And after a while, it got so bad that I just decided to stay home by myself in my dorm.  Major womp womp.  And then when Preston graduated and went off to a different college, he was completely respectful and never went out with friends or got blackout drunk or fell off the map for days.  Haha just kidding, he totally did all those things!  Hypocrite.

So yeah, things went sour and we broke up during his first year of college.  We stayed friends for a while, and chatted on the phone from time to time.  Then one day he changed his Facebook profile to a picture of him nuzzling the navel of a large-chested, bikini-clad co-ed, and we never spoke again. Oh well.

Until next time,

Vee