BYOC - Bring Your Own Crazy!

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1.  When you're sick - what comforts you?

* I asked this because me and my kids have been sick this week and it's been interesting seeing what makes each of my girls feel better.

For me - it's Rambo.  Right smack next to me.  Or making me chicken noodle soup.  And baths.  Lots of baths.

2.  How attached to your cell phone are you?

* Not very.  Try not to laugh at me but I JUST started texting probably less than a year ago.  I used to never even turn it on.  I do not take it to bed with me.  I often miss calls and texts.  A lot of people give me crap about how it's not worth calling me because I'll never pick up...and they're right.

3.  What brand, color and kind of sneaker do you own to work out in?  Why?  Do you get a custom fit or just pick one off the shelf?

Okay - I had New Balance shoes that were orange.  I had them custom fitted for my feet.  They immediately felt amazing and I've had them forever. 

However, I have just bought Brooks Ravenna's LITERALLY based on the color.  The reviews from runners on them were fantastic so I figured they'd be good.  And they are.  I love them though I have only walked in them so far.

Did you know that that you are supposed to buy 1/2 size up because as your feet warm up - they swell?  Custom fitting taught me that so it was worth it. 

4.  Do you ever wish you'd picked a different name for your blog and why?

I actually do.  *Most* days I'm happy with it except the name of my blog says NOTHING about me.  If you just read the title, you would never know what it is about. You have to read my "about me" section to figure it out...so that's annoying in my opinion.  I should have used a title with the words sparkle and glitter in it but that's soley based on how pretty of a blog header it would have made.  99% of the time I love my blog title - simply based on the fact that my best friend designed it for me.

5.  Repeat question.  Summarize your week in real life and in blog land.

Real life has been filled with donkey farts.  LIKE SUCK ASS.  Because my girlies have been sick and are now on antibiotics.  Here's hoping they are on the mend. 

I am slightly stressed in the fact that I have a huge government report due on April 1st when I originally thought it wasn't due until April 30th.  UGH

Oh and look - I got my nails done...still obsessed with an accent nail.  I chose a lime green for St. Patrick's Day!  The brownish color is OPI's "You don't know Jacques".

Blog land is fun, fun, fun because it seems like I'm finding fun, new blogs every day and I love that!

That's it!  Have a good weekend Skittles!  And don't forget to link up below if you participate in BYOC!

Is your 9pm free? Let's pencil in "sex".

Yup – I'm gonna do it. I'm straight up gonna ask you about your sex life. For realz. In a serious way.

Which is kind of dumb. Because every single one of you has a different schedule and situation than I do and I can’t realistically base my sex life on your answers BUT – it’s a woman thing. I need to know that I’m not alone – so please…just this once – give up your sex answers. I must commiserate over my lack of "dessert" this week with fellow women.

For the love of God – lie if you have to – just tell me I’m not alone.

Here’s the dealio. Rambo and I are lovey dovey sickening people. I’m that way by choice and by complete effort. I grew up in a non-touchy lovey childhood and I desperately needed it. So as angry children are prone to do – I swore “one day when I grew up” that if I ever had a marriage and kids – that I’d hug and kiss them and tell them I love them 60 cazillion times a day.

So I do. And Rambo just follows my suit and has become the guy who loves that stuff too.

Yup - the big, burly, gun-toting, SWAT trained, 4x4 truck driving prison guard is a softie.

Naturally – this means our sex life is healthy too.

EXCEPT FOR NOW.

It’s like the Sahara desert, people. And for the first time in our over 20 year history – I’m actually thinking about scheduling and literally pencilling sex in our calendars.

Scratch that.  Screw the pencil.  At this point I'm using a freaking Sharpie.

And I blame Scooby Doo.

Why? Mostly because there’s no one else to blame and he’s the first person who popped into my head. But it’s noone’s fault. It’s a consequence of having so many jobs.

Rambo used to have two days off a week but now he drives a semi on those 2 days off for upwards of 16 hours a day. Yesterday he left the house at 4am and didn’t walk back in the house until 9pm.

Which means take a shower and go to bed because 4am is coming again really quickly.

He took his shower and we went to bed and right before we drifted off to sleep, Rambo clung to me and whispered, “Thank you for that amazing sex. It was soooo good.”

I replied, “I know, right?”

And a few seconds later he was asleep. I miss him terribly. Not just the physical him but the mental him. Rambo and I talk each night for a long time – during supper, before bed, in the bath, all evening – and it’s how I end each day. It’s how I get through each day. When I can’t do that – I feel incomplete.

The funny thing is I know he feels it too. I hear it in his voice – when he calls me more than he usually does. When he lingers on the phone a little bit more than usual.

Our phone calls are usually short and sweet because we know we’ll catch up at night but now we’re spending time on the phone. Full on conversations – because the night conversations aren’t gonna happen.

Our hearts hurt. I’m trying to just be the supportive wife. The one that takes care of everything at home so he doesn’t have to. So he knows I appreciate his willingness to work a literal 6 weeks straight before he gets a day off.

But he’s hurting too. I know because of the extra phone calls. The extra texts. The extra minute he kisses and hugs me at 4am before he gets up to do it all over again. The missing is like a palpable thing in the room you can feel.

Normally we’d say it over and over but this time neither of us has – because I think we’re afraid of the magnitude of the emotions behind it this time. Maybe we’re both afraid we’d fall apart. Or maybe we’re afraid we’d let our emotions win and say, “The hell with it – let’s quit all the side jobs – and just live on love.”…when we know that’s as insane as the missing feels. I’m staying strong for him and he’s staying strong for me.

But I know him well enough to know – he’s hurting. And he knows I am too.

And my girls feel the same way. Banana fell asleep sitting up on the couch last night – waiting for Daddy. Before his shower, he lovingly carried her to bed and kissed her goodnight…and I know his heart broke a little.

It’s temporary. It won’t be like this forever.

Damn these soaring gas prices. It’s been a week without sex and I’m already talking about scheduling it like it’s therapy. I mean really – sexting can only hold us over for so long. And the grammar goddess in me finds it hard to be turned on when Rambo misspells cooter. The only thing I can think about at that point is spell check.

How do you guys do it? Not “do it”. I mean – how do you work it in? OMG – that sounded even worse, didn’t it? You know what I mean.

Do you schedule it? Have you always planned it or is it always spontaneous? Do you care? Does it matter to you? Do you miss it? How long do you go before you stage an intervention on a dry spell?

Do you let your schedules dictate your sex life? How do you feel about that?

Come on. Share. 

Tell me I'm not alone living in the Sahara with my planner and my Sharpie.