Postman left me a package.  This was right above it.  I think I'll check back tomorrow.

I've always lived my life believing you never judge a book by it's cover.  At the book store I've been known to pick up every single book and read the summary regardless of what the cover looks like.  That's why I get so bothered when people openly judge me because of my tattoos. I find it strange.  I don't judge you by the art you hang on your wall, who are you to judge me by the art I hang on my body?  Lately I've been talking to more and more of the parents at my sons school.  I've been making an effort to really get to know people and put myself out there.  What I learned shocked me. Quite a lot of moms have admitted that they were afraid to speak to me three years ago on the kindergarten playground because of my tattoos (and pink hair).  Some said they thought I would be mean, or scary and some said they just thought I must have been a bad person.  Then after spending time with them most of them are more shocked to learn I'm really a giant teddy bear who is actually quite nice. 

A few weeks ago I approached a dad at the school who had both arms covered in tattoos.  We talked about who did his work and became friends from then on.  Later he told me that the year before none of the parents would talk to him, and that some even moved away from him and gave him dirty looks because of his tattoos.  He said this continued for months until one day during parent work week he came to school in his fireman gear.  Suddenly all of the parents wanted to talk to him.  The moms began flirting and the dads began to slap him on the back and call him friend.  He was pissed.  How dare they suddenly deem him okay because of his profession.  He never became friends with any of those parents.  I laughed because I didn't even know he was a fireman I just liked him because he had a nice personality and some cool tattoos.  His wife is Indian and she said people would come up to her asking her if she was a "dot or feather" Indian.  I couldn't believe people would do that.  We have all hung out now and become friends.  I find it sad to know that a lot of moms are missing out on that friendship because they are afraid of his tattoos. 

I've seen this circulating Facebook lately and my emotions are a mix of anger and humor.

I am mad that something like this would be created to begin with.  I find it funny though because it couldn't be MORE WRONG.  I have a tattoo on my neck.  I guess this means I have been, or am in prison.  I have one on both of my feet.  I am still looking for my princess accessory.  I have one in the caution area that even after two babies and a lot of weight gain is still cute, and still makes my husband giggle when we get frisky.  I have one on my forearm which is confusing because I not only have one job, but I have two jobs.  One of which is catering to very high end people.  In the two years I've been catering I have had exactly ONE person make a negative remark on my tattoo.  My boss shut that lady down immediately asking her if she enjoyed her food.  When the lady raved on and on about her food, and the amazing desserts my boss let her know that the girl with the tattoo had made them.  The lady quickly apologized and told my boss to tell me how wonderful I did.  In fact, at 90% of the caterings I do I get stopped by at least one person to comment on my beautiful tattoos. I have a tattoo on my back.  There are no dragons, there are no wings and none of it is faggy or lame.  In fact the tattoo I most often get stopped on is the family tree on my back.  Often as I'm wandering Target or the store little old women will come up, touch my back (odd) and tell me how lovely the tree on my back is.  I love it.  I love it the most because it is little old women who are supposed to hate my tattoos.  But so far the vast majority of comments come from them.  I have a tattoo on my lower back and they are wrong, buying me a drink will not work.  I am happily married and would never stray.  I resent the thought that a tattoo in a certain location would be deemed acceptable to buy me a drink and expect something from me.

I am a nice girl.  I work hard.  I'm a pretty good mom and I am a wonderful wife.  I also happen to have a lot of visible tattoos.  I have never committed a crime.  I did well in school.  I believe in God.  My tattoos all have meaning.  They are mostly dedicated to the people I love the most in my life.  It makes me sad to think I might be judged because of that.  It feels like tattoos are the new skin color.  It is no longer socially acceptable to judge a person by their skin color so now we will judge them on their tattoos.  It's as if the world just needs something to judge, something to segregate, something to hate.  I'm sure with the rate of tattoos increasing they will soon be more socially acceptable and I can't help but wonder, when that happens what will we find to hate each other for next?  

If you see me on the streets and my tattoos are showing, please don't be afraid of me.  You should know I am shy, I'm probably more afraid of you then you are of me.  I'm awkward and nervous and even without the tattoos I'm worried about impressing you.  If you see me on the playground, say hi to me.  Strike up a conversation with me.  You might learn that I'm secretly kind of funny, I read often, I'm a great cook, I'm kind of a dork, oh, and I have a few tattoos.  

I think it's important to remember that old saying your parents taught you, "don't judge a book by it's cover."  

 

**Please excuse any spelling or punctuation errors, I've lost my glasses again so all of these words are blurring together into one.  I hit spell check but I can't really read what it's suggesting so I just guessed and hit publish.  I'm off to see where my dog buried my glasses this time.

For those of you who follow this blog you know I somehow ended up being the dugout mom last year.  You also know that by the end of the season I was praying to the vodka Gods to please send help.

It's a new season.

They gave me 14 kids this season.

FOURTEEN. 

That is five more then last year.

After two games I can say this much.

I need something much stronger then vodka.

Parents really don't care how big of an asshole their kid is.

49 is the number of times I can tell ONE child to sit down before I give in and talk to their father.

Their father won't care.

Send help.

Will follow up with more horror stories because this season is very very interesting.

So interesting the coach offered to put vodka in a water bottle just for me.

His wife offered to bring me Jello shots.

That's pretty bad, when the coach is offering to bring me alcohol because even he feels bad for me.

I'm off to another game…

A few months ago I got a new iPhone.  My old one was working fine it just wasn't loud enough for me unless it was on speaker phone.  It couldn't be fixed because I had actually melted a Hershey kiss into the ear piece and Apple kindly told me that kind of damage isn't covered since you know…IT WAS MY FAULT.

I ended up mailing the phone to a friend to use basically like an iPod touch.  She wanted to read 50 Shades of Grey and I had already downloaded it plus a few other books so I sent her the phone with a full library.

Since then I've been reading lots of books.  I've been having book ADD.  Nothing seems to hold my interest for long anymore so I've found myself downloading things, reading five pages and moving on.  People have been sending me suggestions and I generally end up downloading them.  Some of them are a little bit more racy then 50 Shades.  Some of the books have some pretty interesting covers.  I figured it wasn't an issue because they were on my iPad and no one could see them.  If they got to racy I just stopped reading them. 

Then about two weeks ago the friend wrote me and asked me to download an ap for her.  I was confused and asked if she had set up her own account.  She said that she hadn't because she was worried if she deleted my account it would erase all of my stuff from my own phone.  I was a little confused and then she mentioned that every ap I download auto downloaded to her phone.  Then I realized that meant every book I downloaded was also auto downloading.

Shit.

Luckily this friend has a sense of humor and also knows that what kind of books I read and what kind of person I am, so it wasn't a complete shock to her when a book image of a half naked girl with nothing but lacy stockings appeared in her library.  I had to laugh.  I felt kind of bad for her, because I could tell she probably didn't want to tell me about it.  I can't even imagine though what would have happened if I had chosen a different kind of friend to send the phone to.  A reserved friend, or a prude, or a younger friend.  I'm just thankful I hadn't downloaded some of those really really bad BDSM books that people have been reading since 50 shades.  I would post a couple of the free books I had downloaded on here just so you could see the images poor Jess had to see when she opened her phone…but I'm afraid of what kind of spam comments I will get from it.

Either way, I explained to her that she could put her own account in and she wouldn't lose the books she was reading and nothing would be deleted from my account.

I'm pretty sure said friend is thrilled that she will no longer open her iPod (phone) and have to see just what exactly Shannon is reading today.

He he.  Oops.  I guess nothing is really safe anymore is it.  

Sorry Jess!

Tomorrow my husband and I celebrate 8 year of marriage. The traditional gift for that is bronze or pottery. Pottery made me think of porcelain which reminded me of toilets which made me think…is 8 years around the time you start peeing with the door open? Or is that closer to 15 years?

Friday I ran to get a quick lunch.  On my way CVS called and told me my prescription was ready.  I stopped in and realized I had to pee.  The bathroom was occupied for what seemed like eternity so I gave up and decided to wait until I got my lunch.  I made it to Quiznos and by then I realllly had to pee so I just rushed straight to the bathroom.  I went to hang my purse and there was no hook.  I wanted to set it down but the only place to set it was the wet sink.  I'll never understand why places don't put a hook in womens bathrooms.  Do they expect me to hold my purse, unbutton my pants, wipe, and button back up one handed?  So I hooked it on the door handle and went about my business.  Suddenly someone knocked on the door and without even giving me two full second to answer they opened the bathroom door.  There I was sitting on a toilet, pants down, panties showing, ON A TOILET and some woman walked in on me.  I shouted at her to leave and she did.  That is when I noticed that my purse had slipped off the door and slid down the handle managing to unlock and open the door.  So even though the lady should have given me a second to respond that the bathroom was in use, in essence my purse had left me wide open and bared for everyone to see. 

This was a normal restroom not a stall so there was no where I could have hung a portable hook either.  I finished up and walked out and noticed that there was no one waiting by the bathroom. I have a feeling the lady was just as mortified about walking in on me as I was about being walked in on so she must have just went to sit down and try to hide.

What am I supposed to do next time this happens?  I mean the only good thing is at least I had cute undies on and not some horrific grannie panties wrapped around my knees right?

Last night I wanted a good nights sleep so I took the full dose of Xannax.  I was sleeping so good.  Then at 3am my husband wakes me up to tell me the power is out.

I should take this time to tell you that from 9pm to 1am I am fine and functional.  If you wake me up after 1am my God have mercy on your soul.  If you are my child I will still get mad at you.  I don't care who it is I will be angry.  I will be mean, stompy and short fused.  It's not pretty.

So when he tells me that the fucking power is out I wanted to smash his face in.  Did he have to tell me this?  Could I not have lived without knowing the power was out?  I was livid.

But then I heard the beep.

Or was it a chirp.

I don't know what it was but it was really,  really, really, really, damn annoying.  I call the power company who tells me there is no outage in the area.  My husband decides to go outside and check the breakers.  I listen to the beeping for about 45 seconds before coming homicidal.  So I go downstairs and discover the beeping coming from the alarm panel.  I get to the panel and the beep comes again, FROM UPSTAIRS.  So I run upstairs and I hear the fire alarm beep.  But then I hear it again and it's downstairs.  I run downstairs and freeze in the middle of the area and hear the beep again.  It's for sure the alarm panel.  So I run back over and the upstairs beeps.  I run back upstairs and I have no fucking idea what is beeping now.  I go to all of the fire alarms upstairs and listen for beeping.  Then Brandon starts moving so I shut the kids doors and hear the beep again and its for sure down stairs.  Down I go.  

It wasn't down stairs. 

So I run upstairs again.

It wasn't upstairs.

Finally I give up and sit on the couch seething mad.  It's 3 in the morning, shit is beeping, my husbands outside, oh and did I mention he left me with a gun.  So the whole time I'm running up and down the stairs I'm trying not to shoot my foot off. Finally he comes back in and tells me that none of the breakers are tripped. I call the power company back and they ask me if I'm near "Jetson." 

What the fuck is a Jetson????

I tell them I live on a private road and I don't know what a damn Jetson is and can they just figure it out.  The guy curtly tells me they will head out.  

MORE BEEPING

I call the alarm company.

It was the wrong number.

I call the right number.

Push one

Push five

Push three

Push one

Thank God no one was breaking into my house right now or I would die pushing fucking buttons.

Finally I get a human who tells me that it is the alarm panel and just to shut off my alarm.

So I shut it off. 

BEEP

So then he says, "it must be your fire alarm, you need to get your fire alarm off the ceiling and change the battery."  I ask if that is going to set the alarm off?  He tells me it will but that maybe I could find a paper clip and push a little reset button.

It's 3am and you want me to find a paper clip.  A fucking paper clip.

Seconds before I bite the guys head of my husband says, "wait!" He pulls out the little table below the alarm panel and grabs our carbon monoxide detector.

BEEP

My husband had found the beep.  I was thrilled.  But now what.  It needed batteries.  So he's sitting there on the floor calmly trying to take the battery cover off and I'm getting pissed.  This thing is still beeping and he's handling it like a fucking newborn.  I wanted to smash it into the ground.  He finally gets it off and takes out the battery.  

It keeps beeping.

I swear I saw red at that moment.

He leaves me alone with the gun and the beeping machine to find a battery.  I looked from one hand to the other, back and forth, and then he came in with a battery.  

I might have pouted a little. 

He puts the battery in and BEEP.

I think my head started spinning.

But then, it stopped.  The beeping stopped.  He plugged it back into the wall, looked over and told me to go back to bed.  

Fool didn't have to tell me twice.  I stomped up the stairs, put away his gun, crammed my ear plugs in and went back to bed.

But this morning you can bet your ass I gave that carbon monoxide detector the stink eye.

Men really are easy to please.  It's humorous really just how simple they are.  But a few months ago my husband issued an impossible task.  He has this ap on his phone called The Chive.  Mostly it has pictures of chicks and boobs, but also it has pictures similar to the humor section on Pinterest.  It's kind of like what Pinterest would be if men were in charge of it.  He had followed the ap for a long time when one day he discovered they sold shirts.  You know that big thing going around the web right now:

Keep calm and carry on

Well the Chive website made their own:

I think it is the dumbest shirt on the planet.  But men…men seem to think it's the greatest thing since blow jobs.  I guess all my husbands friends got a shirt, so he decided he needed a shirt too.  So one day he tells me that I have to get him a shirt and the shirts are going on sale tomorrow.  I set a timer, schedule my lunch break accordingly and go on mission stupid shirt.  You guys, these fucking shirts sold out in THIRTY EIGHT SECONDS.  I was mad.  I never fail at stuff and I was failing at this.  I even had the shirt in my shopping cart and by the time I pushed check out I was told they were SOLD OUT.  I was not impressed. I told my husband who got all despondent and sad and all, "But Tony's wife got three shirts and you got no shirts, and sighhhhh I guess it's okay."

I got beat by a shirt. 

On top of it there is a second shirt, the Bill Fucking Murray shirt.

I don't get it.

It's Bill Murray on a shirt.

Um….It's not like it's Channing Tatum…or BOOBS or something.  It's Bill Murray.  That shirt sold out in forty three seconds.  After that I got mad.  I signed up for email notifications and wanted to be notified the second they went on sale.  A few weeks later they did another surprise limited release on the two shirts.  I was on their website twenty minutes early.  I got one of each shirt in my cart and then the entire website crashed.  I started unleashing obscene words in my office and via text to my husband.  I told him his fucking shirt could go fuck itself and if Tony's wife got three shirts then she could mail him a fucking shirt.  But I persisted.  I opened three browsers, pushed back, forward, reload, I prayed, I did a lot and LO I walked away with two shirts.  

It was touch and go there for a while. I emailed my husband the picture saying it was sold out and that I didn't get them AGAIN and let him sweat for a little bit before admitting that I had beat this damn website and I had bought two fucking shirts.  He was so happy.  It was silly.  He wore those shirts all the time after that.  The funniest part is that unless you are an ultimate Chive fan, neither shirt makes any sense to you.  He walked into our catering job in his Bill Murray shirt one day so proud and our boss just looked at him like, "Bill Murray, on your shirt..but why?"  I was upset because DO YOU KNOW WHAT I HAD TO DO TO GET THAT SHIRT YOU BETTER BOW DOWN TO THE BILL MURRAY SHIRT.  All of his work friends were apparently jealous that I managed to score the shirts so I felt a little better though.

Then last week I got an email.  They were releasing a limited edition Bill Fucking Murray wallet.  My husband didn't mention it, I had no idea if he wanted it but me and this website are now in a war and I'll be damned if I wasn't getting a stupid wallet.  Plus the husbands birthday was in a week so it worked out.  I clicked the link and somehow managed to buy the wallet.  Fourteen minutes later they sold out.  One week later they were removed entirely from the website because it was that limited. 

I told him about it and he was like, "oh cool, I didn't even know they made those."  Probably because Mr. CHIVE doesn't read the emails he gets.  I wanted to kick him.  The appropriate response should have been something like, "you are an almighty goddess of a wife who I bow down to and will forever kiss your toes because you got me a Bill Murray wallet without me even asking."  The wallet arrived yesterday and he put all of his stuff in it and then showed his friends.  His friends all got jealous.  One of them asked why he didn't get one, one asked me to buy him one for his birthday.  My reply, "have his wife buy one for his birthday, that website gives me heart palpitations.'  His friends at work were all jealous.  My husband was proud and I was thrilled.  I had scored something that most people didn't even know existed. most people won't even recognize it when he pulls it off.  The design will probably rub off soon anyway.  

BUT YOU GUYS I GOT THE WALLET.  

I WON

I BEAT THE WEBSITE

I AM COOLEST WIFE EVER

I am now set up to be emailed any time ANYTHING new shows up on that site.  It's pretty  much set in stone that I will purchase anything Bill Murray and I will purchase any Keep Calm and Chive On shirt that is sold again.  This website has unknowingly entered a war with me.  I will never lose to this website again. But on the bright side, I am the wife of the year for buying something that none of my husbands friends can get.  

Fucking Bill Murray!

I don't remember the exact moment I fell in love with my husband.  Instead I have memories of just being in love with him.  I can remember laying next to him and looking over thinking, "I love him."  I can remember sitting on the beach by the fire looking into his eyes and thinking, "I can't even hear a word he is saying because I'm so stunned at how much I love him in this moment." 

What is interesting though is that after eleven years together I still have moments where I stop and fall in love all over again.  I have these moments where, if I didn't love him yet they would be the moments where I would stop and say I LOVE YOU for the first time.

My husband is amazing.  He is, in a word…my LIFE.  I have been going through a pretty rough patch.  Things got pretty bad there mentally for a while.  I have been farther down then I have ever been and my husband has been, what every woman dreams of during this time.  When it all went bad and I really broke down, he picked up his phone, turned on a slow song and asked me to dance with him.  I felt so silly.  Here I was in my jammies in the evening slow dancing.  But suddenly I just broke down.  I started really crying and I opened up and told him everything.  After that he sat with me and just listened.  He just LISTENED.  After that he asked what I wanted to do and I was honest and said, "I want to finish reading my book." So he sat behind me, laid back on the couch and let me just lean on him and read my book in silence. He didn't text, turn on the TV or talk, he just laid there, held me and let me do what I wanted.  It was perfect.  He didn't try and talk about, he didn't try and "fix it" he just held me, let me read and shut up.  

Every night since then he has danced with me.  He told me he wanted a chance for us to take five minutes out of every single day to just have quiet alone time.   At first it was silly.  At first I didn't like it. Now, those few minutes are my favorite.  I crave them.  I love the moment when he walks into the room and grabs my hand and tells me it's time to dance.  Even when we were arguing the other day he came and woke me up and made me dance with him.  At the end of the song I wasn't even mad at him anymore.  Sunday we danced at noon.  I loved it. 

Yesterday was his birthday and I planned a few romantical things for him.  Later we were laying in bed talking and we started wondering if all married couples are like us.  We have talked to our friends and we know that a lot of them aren't.  Do other couples still have sex as much as we do after eleven years?  Do they still do the other…sexy things we do?  Do they still kiss as much as we do?  Do they still make out?  When I walk by him he still reaches out and grabs my ass.  When I walk by him I love to stop and kiss his back.  I love to run my hands down his arms and just touch him.  I usually can't go in the kitchen without touching him some how, kissing him, hugging him, or just brushing my hand against him.  We still flirt with each other.  When we are putting away dishes if he's near the sink and I'm putting something in the island inevitably we end up in a shoving match and I try and block him from where he is going and he tries to block me from where I'm going.  It's cute.  I don't' know why we do it, but we do.  When he is doing dishes he will still shake his hands off on me and splash water in my face.  At least twice a week he sneaks into the shower with me just to wash my back.  I love when I catch him in the shower and the boys are being good giving me a chance to sneak in with him.  He kisses me good night every single night and kisses me good bye every single time he leaves the house.  

We spent an hour last night laying in bed with the little lamp on just talking to each other wondering, is every marriage like ours?  Are other couples still as in love as we are?  When my husband and I fight it hurts.  He says he goes to work with a stomach ache and feels sick all day. I hate it when we fight.  I feel miserable and wrong and I just want it fixed.  We can't stay mad at each other long though because it's so hard to not touch each other as much as we like to.

I can't help but wonder if this is normal?  In a society where divorce and cheating and hatred is so prevalent is our marriage normal or are we now considered abnormal?  Is every married couple this caught up in each other?  Is everyone this in love?  My husband and I have nothing in common.  In fact if I wonder if he will like something all I have to do is ask myself if I like it.  If the answer is no then it's a pretty good shot he will love it.  Yet somehow our differences bring us closer.  I fall in love with him more every single day.  I often have to just grab him and tell him, "I love you so much right now."  There are times when I kiss him that I kind of lose sight of everything around me and find myself pushing for a full on make out session.  It's cute, he starts laughing quietly and has to look at me and ask if I really want to make out in the middle of where ever we are.  Sometimes I don't realize we are on the school playground, at the store, at a baseball game because I just forget.  When he asked me if I thought other couples were like us I answered that sadly, no I don't think so.  One of the reason we are as sexual as we still are is because I love making him happy.  I love doing anything that will make him happy.  Seeing him happy is probably the most intoxicating thing in the world for me.  I crave it.  I'm not sure that all spouses are like that.  I don't know if all of my friends crave the look on their husbands face after a romantic night together.  I'm not sure if my friends crave the way their husbands lips feel.  I'm not sure if they feel off balance if they don't love on their husband for more then five days.  

So tell me blog world.  Is this normal?  Is everyone around me as deep in love as I am?  Or am I just experiencing something spectacular and rare?  I'm curious to know so that next time my husband and I talk about it I can answer him.  Did I just stumble upon my actual soul mate, or is it always this good in all marriages?  I know that there are a few blogs I read where I can feel the same love (Emery I'm looking at you) but is the whole world like this?  Leave your comments and tell me.  What little things go on with you and your spouse that remind you how much you love them.  Or, what things have you found that were missing that maybe led you to realize leaving was right?  Tell me, do you think it's possible for a love like this to last?  Will we still be like this in another 50 years?  Were your parents like this?  Because i know my kids are only a few years away from being totally grossed out at how in love my husband and I are with each other.  The only upside is that I know both of my boys will learn what true love is, and never settle for anything less if they watch their father and I together. Do you still have a crush on your spouse?  Because I still have the biggest crush on mine. 

I know what channel baseball is on ESPN.

If it isn't on that channel I know what the back up channel is.

I can name at least ten players on the team. This is important because for my whole life I've always said I was a Raiders fan but could never name more then one player on the team IF ANY.  I can now name so so many of the Giants.

I know what standings are.  I know that a win is a half a game and a loss is a half a game. 

I know about tagging up, and RBI's, and decoy.  

I am learning position numbers.

I almost understand a pickle.

I'm learning the different pitches.

I know what a sacrafice is.

I also know enough now to be genuinly upset by the Melky Cabrera issue.  I am livid.  He was caught using PEDs (performance enhancing drugs).  I am furious. I loved Melky.  I had a crush on Melky's dimples.  I thought he was an amazing player.  I enjoyed watching him play.  I loved his smile. I loved his energy. I loved watching him at bat. As a fan I feel hurt.  I feel betrayed.  I feel angry.  I am so upset by this.  Why did he do this?  Why hasn't he issued a statement apologizing?  Why can't people just play the sport the way it was meant to be played.  Melky is an exceptional player. He still hits the ball with great accuracy.  He didn't need those drugs.  I feel cheated on.  I am beginning to wonder who I can trust on the team now.  When I saw that news my heart shattered in two thousand pieces.  Why did it have to be the Milk Man?  Someone I love.

Why couldn't it be a Dodger?

I'm kidding.  I don't feel like this is acceptable for any team. For the whole sport.  I think players need to think about their fans.  Thing about how invested we get.  Realize the role models they are.  

I know enough now, to know that it is not okay.  I was stupid when it happened to Barry Bonds so I forgave it.  But now, now that I truley love this sport my heart is broken.  I hope this is the last I hear of this.  Because I can't handle having the Giants crush me any more.