Husbands and TV: A repeat.

I've written about this before. And I will do so again and again, including today.

Why do men get so weirded out when the lady (or man) in their life doesn't want to sit and watch an hour of recorded TV with them?

This week has been not too tiring, not too stressful, not too boring, dull, annoying, etc. It's just been...okay. And what comes with okay to me is being able to relax a bit after a certain time at night, which also means not being tied to the TV for an hour (which normally lasts much longer due to pauses for conversation or pee breaks or having to obsessively take care of something (both he and I are victims of such obsessions)).

Each night this week, we've started watching a recorded show, and I've either gotten lost in my laptop or just wandered off only to be eventually found and asked, "why'd you leave?"

Tonight we started the finale of Hell's Kitchen, but we both found out who won in the morning when someone blasted the winner on their Facebook status update. My husband started sweeping the floor while we were still watching, so I got up and started helping by cleaning up our dishes and TV trays. Then I said I was going in our bedroom.

"Don't you want to watch?" he asked me.

"But I know who won. I'm tired," I said.

About 10 minutes later I was followed in by my husband who started playing Scrabulous with me, which is just about the same as watching a TV show - it keeps me trapped until I say "NO MORE SCRABULOUS! This lady is going to bed!!"

Maybe I should hole up in the bathroom with a book for a good hour....

Vacation panic.

Countdown: -5 days to go and we're officially on our "mini" vacation.

How many times have I ran through lists of things I need to pack and all the stuff I need to do before we go: 100,394 times. Wait...100,395.

To alleviate some brain worries, I actually typed up a list for all the items we need for Mateo. It's now about a page long. And I really haven't alleviated any brain worries, I'm just now worried my list will never end or I'm still going to forget something.

We never managed to go grocery shopping this past weekend, so we've been eating take-out or cereal for meals (Fatty McGoo will be back come Monday, I promise. I got a wedding to go to in August and I don't want to wear a mu-mu.) I was going to go grocery shopping after picking up Mateo from daycare tonight, but he had other plans and wanted to whine and cry, so I figured it was going to be torture for me and him if we went.

On tonight's menu: The last thing in the house besides Mateo food. Eggs and hash browns. I might even whip up some tasty eggs in the nest! Call me Chef de Cuisine!

And to top off everything and my poor planning, I looked up events in Monterey this weekend. Blues Festival. Starting Friday. Through Sunday.

So depending on many factors out of my control so I'm trying to tell myself not to worry about them, we may be staying at our hotel resort with the golf carts and beach right out our door the whole weekend and venturing out purely for food and milk, or we may attempt a trip to the Aquarium to look at fish and touch some ocean creatures.

Not to mention clam chowder in a bread bowl.

One thing I like, one thing I don't.

I like that not only do we get channel after channel of movie goodness from Encore, but I just found out yesterday that we get On Demand movies as well. It seems, from my slight scan through, that all the movies they are currently showing for the month are also available On Demand. This means no more recording on the DVR and taking up space. Which means more room for all the stupid shows I tend to find and want to watch. To my husband it would mean more room to record stupid MMA. This also means I can watch movies in our bedroom instead of watching the recorded movies in the living room. This means laziness can abound!

What I'm not liking is that I'm accident pron and not very graceful, nor do I take time to manicure my nails, so they are jagged and dangerous. I don't like that when I was hurriedly brushing my hair, I dug out a line of skin on the side of my face with said jagged nail while reaching up to pull the brush through my way too long hair. I really don't like that it still stings, an hour later.

Movie Night #2!

Since our DVD player decided after movie night #1 to up and die while still holding the DVD inside of it, I never got to watch the end of A History of Violence. My husband has yet to perform surgery on the DVD player to get the DVD out (it's Netflix's DVD, so we sorta, kinda have to get it out), and then move the DVD player in our bedroom into the living room. But I'm sure he'll get to it, along with caulking the kitchen sink (way over two years past due - yikes, can't wait for the sink to fall into the cabinet), cleaning up the back patio, putting up the new blinds in our bedroom (I bought those about two years ago too), um....cleaning the heater / A/C filter thing that hasn't been cleaned since we replaced our furnace and got A/C....yeah....um....that's it for now.

Anyhoo. We have a voucher from Comcast to watch an On Demand movie on them, so we watched Juno last night. Even though I was dead tired, I managed to stay up til 10pm to watch the whole thing.

I've been wanting to watch Juno for ages. And even with all the hype and snippets shown on TV, I was still surprised by the plot. One part of the movie made my husband and I have a little chat about when a woman realizes she's a mother vs. when a male does, and it made me awfully sad and sentimental and I wanted to go into Mateo's room and grab him and rock him while he cried because I woke him up to satisfy my incessant need to love up my baby.

It also made my ovaries ache a bit more.

I call that a successful movie night, don't you?

I've got achey ovary syndrome.

Yesterday some lady came in with her baby. Her baby is 4.5 months old, a girl, fully of kicky legs and gummy smiles, small, cute, with twinkly eyes. I stared at her baby for a good 5 minutes, wondering what happened to my baby and was my baby ever like this baby? I honestly don't remember Mateo looking that babyish at 4.5 months old. Even at 3 months old he looked more unbaby than this baby.

And while I've said over and over that I never wanted a girl, now that I have a boy, I'd take a girl. A little girl who was calm and serene and thoughtful, who wouldn't want to get up at the crack of dawn (or before) on the weekends to run around like a wild banshee, oscillating between wanting to sit on the couch with mommy to wanting to lay flat on the play mat, arms neatly tucked under his belly, to wanting banana NOW, that toy NOW, and hey, Zoe, get the heck out of my way, I need to pull down more slates from the blinds!!!

When I was finished staring at the little baby, I started talking to her and smiling and doing all those goofy things adults do to babies to make them smile. I was smitten.

And that's when my ovaries began to ache. When said lady (who, by the way, looks like a twig and like she never gave birth to anything except maybe a peanut) and baby left, I IMed my husband and told him I want another baby and that my ovaries ache.

He asked, "your ovaries ache because you want a baby?"

I told him yes, yes they do, and yes I do, and I want another baby!

He said if we were rich, I could have all the babies I wanted.

While that sounds just dandy, I think one more baby would be nice. Plus I know I could do everything way better and be less anxious about all kinds of stuff if I had another baby. No problem. I'm an expert now. Because now I know they do stop the constant crying and they do sleep all night and they will let you know they love you by bum rushing you and giving you hugs.

Ah, the smell of spit up and goopy poop calls me. Not to mention lack of sleep, waking up every 2 hours AND having a wild child known as Mr. Mateo driving me loopy with his banshee ways.

Hand holding.

My husband and I used to be hand holders.

Used. to. be.

I just realized today that we probably haven't held hands since Mateo was born. I know this is mostly due to one of us strolling or holding Mateo when we're out in the world together, but it just hit me how things change without even thinking about them too much. I'm sure, before Mateo, if I sat around one morning and realized my husband and I weren't holding hands as much as we used to while out in public, I would immediately think: Oh no! We aren't the same as we used to be. Whine, whine, moan, groan, the world is coming to and end.

This morning, while thinking about it, it just made me feel slightly sad. Our world was for so long about each other; and it was a world filled with love and conflicts and fun, and good and bad times. Now our world is all about Mateo: Is he eating enough? Is he getting sick? Why isn't he sleeping well at night all of a sudden? It's about getting him to daycare and picking him up. It's about spending time with him on the weekends. It's about entertaining him, having fun with him, experiencing things with him. It's definitely not about us anymore.

And yes, that's okay. But at the same time, it's almost like my husband and I have been together all this time just to get to this point in our lives and now we're together but only as a team to ensure Mateo grows up happy, healthy and well-rounded.

Which is scary because how will we greet each other 15 years from now when Mateo is more independent and starting to create his own life?

Lately I've been feeling like I'm always trying to finish something so I can start something else just so I can finish it. I think it's time to stop and smell the roses, as they say.

Two things

1. I bought cold medicine that has an artic blast flavor -- these are pills you swallow. So I looked, and it explicitly states NOT to crush or chew said pills that MUST be swallowed whole. Okay. So. Why the funky flavor? I don't usually leaves pills in my mouth long enough to get any sort of flavor, unless it's a bad pill taking session and my mind has told my body I can't swallow the pill without choking and then dying. Who wants to go that way?

2. Why does it seem every year, about several times a year, the news tells us this is the LAST time to see some amazing eclipse thing. Until the year 2483, when none of us will be around?

Just thinking.

Sad day in the history of TV. And some other TV nonsense.

Montel Williams show will be over and done and dead as a mouse stuck in a trap after this season ends. Who else will feature Pyschic Sylvia Brown every single flipping Wednesday? Where will she go?

Luckily, the other man in my life, Dr. Phil, is going strong.

Lost began its 4th season last night -- I'm still on Season 3, disc 3, show 3 of 4. But thanks to my lovely iPod touch, I'm plowing right through them all and should be caught up by next week. And yes, I'm recording season 4 so I can have a Lost day on the couch.

WE will be showing High School Confidential in March. Now if I can only remember to record it.

Why is it with the writer's strike going on, our DVR is filled to the brim with new show goodness?