I'm not the jealous type, or so I thought

I've always prided myself on not being the jealous type.    Now, don't misunderstand me... nor am I the "sharing" type either.     But, I've made the statement several times about how I'm NOT the green-eyed jealous chic.   I found out just how wrong I was.

A couple years ago, my husband was coming to my work to meet me for lunch.  I was busy and missed his call, twice.   So I called him back.

A woman answered.    I said I must have the wrong number and hung up.   Hmmmm...   I redialed it, watching the numbers closer.  And... a soft spoken woman answers.  "Hello, are you looking for Ron?" 

Now, what took place in my head...is something,  I'd never  experienced.  I mean all out, I'm gonna kick someone's ***, who the **** is this chic answering MY husband's phone, pure jealous rage.   My heart is pounding and I'm ready to scratch some chic's eyes out.

"Umm, yeah I AM looking for Ron."    She responds, coyly,"I'm sorry, he's a little busy right now".       Me,"Oh, is he?"     Her,"Uh,huh".

Every nerve in my system was on fire.

And I hear in the background... laughter.    My husband takes the phone and says,"so, you're not jealous, huh?"

The next words out of my mouth would have made a sailor blush.

The "voice" was my "friend" Paula... and she did a great job of talking sexy and fooling me.   A GREAT job.

So... no more do I claim to not be "jealous".   Because, if you answer my husband's phone and you are NOT my friend Paula playing a joke...  This will not go your way.   At all.   I do after all.. have green eyes.

Sunny Side UP!!!

My husband is a great son-in-law, and I do mean a GREAT son-in-law.

Well... about 6 years ago... Mom when she was adjusting to the the nursing home,  some evenings I'd go pick her up to stay the night with us.   She prefers her own bed now and won't come for a night.   Now, Mom will straight up tell me when she wants to go "home".    At the time, she was adjusting to a different life and had just had her third stroke... and was also adjusting to medications, her diet, etc,.. being managed.   She went through a period that she preferred to wear diapers just to "be safe".   

On one of her overnight visits, Ron got to see a whole new side to Mom.
   
My version:   I was in a deep sleep and all of a sudden I feel my husband LEAP into the bed.   I'm a really good sleeper... like REALLY good sleeper.   So I returned to my deep REM sleep.

His version: (side note: my husband only sleeps with ALL lights off.   complete darkness)  He wakes to the hall light on and hears the TV in the living room.  As he walks through the house... every light is on in the hallway and living room, the TV is blaring loud.    He sees my Mom standing in the living room with her back to him.  He was about to say,"Audrey, are you OK?"   However, what happened next....lol... stopped him.      It was at this point that Mom bent forward, tossed the tail end of her gown over her back and pulled up her diaper FROM AROUND HER ANKLES!!!  Sunny Side Up, BABY!!!!    My husband.... has never been the same.  Never.    He didn't say a word and DOVE into our bed... leaving all the houselights on.   I'm not sure he slept at all that night.

LOL.. and iffen ya know me, ya know I found this FREAKING HILARIOUS!!!

Just last night there was a scene in a show ("Raising Hope"... hilarious show, reminds me of "My Name is Earl"...classy, like that), and they referenced how grandma's always taking her shirt off in public.   I immediately start laughing... he tells me it's not funny, curled himself into the fetal position and begins rocking himself.   Me, being the loving wife that I am... laughed harder.

Poor feller... the image haunts him.  We finally told Mom about it a couple years ago... and she too had to laugh about it.

The man's a GREAT son-in-law.  I promise you.
Remind me to tell ya'll the story that goes with him reminding me, "Well, I blew out my left *** putting your Mom in the truck on the trip the Kansas City".   I fear I'll be hearing that one when we're 80yrs old rocking on the porch.   LOL

"IF" my new favorite poem

My new most favorite poem.   I mentioned to someone I've known and respected for many years that I could never tell his mood, wether it be happy bored, sad or mad.   That his facial expression always appeared the same.  (which is peaceful)  He recited this poem to me in full and said he repeats it to himself daily.     

Rudyard Kipling's poem is about keeping things into percpective.  Not owning other's words, moods, disdian or actions.   About not letting them own yours.   It's about your internal environment not being effected by your external environment.    The more I've read the poem.  The more I desire to acheive this level of selfness.

Rudyard Kipling

If

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master;

If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings -- nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run --

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!

I'm in love with a married man.

It's true.  I am. 
The good news is... his wife (me) approves.
It took me a few years to learn to accept roses, small gestures, large gestures, all gestures graciously.  
He thinks of me.

But my husband... does all of those things for me that the love songs mention. 
He makes me a better person.

We are as much alike as we are different.
I'm the outgoing, bubbly one.  He's more quiet and dry humored.
We are a balance.  

He is my best friend.   We hunt, fish, talk and hang out. 
When things are wrong or right in my world, he is my first (& only) phone call.

He's a man.  An alpha male.   He lifts heavy things.  I find this hot.

But the man is a romantic. 
He's already planned out our anniversary weekend.
(It will include a beautiful treehouse in the woods, a heart shaped hot tub and next to a lake to fish and near a historic town to photograph)   He knows me.

Am I bragging?  Yep.  Darn Skippy.  
Because, I feel in life... you're lucky if you find this match.  This love.  This kind of connection with another person.   He's my best friend.  

                 So... truth be told.  I am in love with a married man.  Mine.

Mushy post, eh?   I know.  But I this is the only way to do it without shouting from a roof top.  (I'm clumsy, we all know I'd fall off the roof and then said romantic alpha male would have to take me to the ER to tend to my wounds)

some me & mom time

Mom's back at the nursing home.  All better.  A bit weaker for the trip..  but breathing is good.  

 (Ya see... Sunday morning in the hospital,  she fell... on her face.  Broke nose, huge bruise on her head and a busted lip)   She was looking rough... and sick and now hurt.    So when she asked for some nail polish remover... I figured I'd go pamper her a bit.   I went and gave her a manicure.

(and yes... I did my "nail lady" voice... just a note.. the humor of this voice is lost if you're half deaf)

me: "you pick culla"  
mom:"huh?"
me (much louder and without the accent): "Mom... pick a color".

So she picked one of the shades of pink... (I left all my hoochie red shades at home... I save those for special occassions, like cruises or weekends without kids)

I nipped her skin when clipping her nails... ugh!   (Did I mention I'm not a professional manicurist?)  
me:" I'm sorry...  I nicked you... just let me finish it"
mom:"finish?  finish cutting my finger off?"
(she was smiling when she said it though...lol)

Mom and I have one subject, we do NOT discuss.   Politics.  Usually.   Its the ONLY time we disagree on things... or come close to being snippy with each other.  

Ofcourse as I'm doing her manicure, the election coverage was on.   She was bummed about not getting to vote.  (Cause she would have voted for Cedric Glover...  ummmm she lives in Bossier)  lol

 Mom (and most the family) are democrats.  I are not.  When I told her I'd registered as a republican (when I was 18yrs old), she said (in all seriousness),"Do not tell your grandma you are a republican, it'll kill her"
Anyway... while I painted her nails pink, my mom and I discussed politics.    (I'd have voted for Glover too... to her surprise... and She'd have swung to the Republican side on Senate & the house)  No disagreement.   Go figure.

For the record... grandma died of heart failure... and not because she found out I was a heathen conservative.