Monday, June 30, 2008
You stood with me nine years ago in front of God and our family and friends and pledged to be there for me and with me, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, forsaking all others till death do we part.
I wonder if you really knew then what you were signing on for? True, we had been together for nearly five years, and certainly you knew what I brought to the party. I wonder though, if you had any idea what our life together would bring.
Did you know then how much you would love me, exhausted and bleary eyed, nursing our newborn baby? Did you have any inkling of the inner turmoil that being a husband and dad entailed? Did you know the absolute joy of being a beloved Daddy would bring you?
Nine years later, every day, you choose to stay. Where a lesser man would run screaming from the room, you have planted yourself like a giant oak tree, sturdy and stong.
You never gripe when the house gets all cluttered, or the laundry goes undone for so long that we either have to wash or buy new clothes. Ok, so you gripe about it sometimes, but those times are few and far between.
You never complain if what I feed you comes from a drive-through. And when I do cook, you really, truly don't care what it is. I am so thankful that even though your mom fed you homemade meals every day of your life, that you never fuss when I don't. And I love it that Sunday morning "big breakfast" has become a part of the tradition that is our family.
You tolerate my personal quirks and live with the total insanity that living with a four-year old brings. If my odd hobbies offend you in any way, you keep it to yourself and just let me do what I need to do for my own peace of mind and sanity. Sometimes you flick me some crap about it, but that's just you being you. I know you tolerate me and my oddities, and I know you delight in being contrary when you can.
You work weird hours sometimes, even when your job requires a trip out of town, or a Saturday night at the office. You do it because we are yours and you do what it takes to take care of us, even if that means giving up a Saturday night. I've said many times before, and I mean it - thank you for working so hard to take care of us.
You are truly happy just to have time with your girls. A lazy weekend afternoon taking a family nap makes you happy, and just spending time together is all you need. How different our world would be if we were overscheduling us just for the sake of crossing "stuff" off a to-do list.
I look around at the broken marriages and lives of people we know, and I just feel like I should acknowledge and validate for you that I know making a life with someone else isn't easy. You could pack your stuff and go - just leave and be done with the clutter and the craziness any time.
And yet, every day, you choose to stay. And every day, I love you more than the one before.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Toilet Tattoos, the only way to crown your throne. In case you're wondering, a Toilet Tattoo is a vinyl stick on for your toilet lid. If you'll cruise their website, www.toilet-tattoos.com, you'll find toilet training, and seasonal themes to fit your every mood.
From the Moose at Sunset for your early morning tinkle to the Butterflies-a-flutter after too much Mexican Food, Toilet Tattoos enhance your potty experience like the JC Penney catalog never could.
For the patriotic out there, you can order your very own Stars & Stripes version, right in time for the superbowl of patriotic holidays. Good times, friends. Good times.
The good news is they are hygenic and re-usable. Thank heavens, if they are reusable, at least they are hygenic. At least as hygenic as something located in the bathroom can be. Where in the world would one store a hygenic toilet cover after its removal from the toilet? Linen cabinet? Garage? So much to consider.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Three times this week, I have received advertisements written entirely in Spanish. Once each from Time Warner Cable, Direct TV, and Disney. When I say entirely, I mean ENTIRELY - not a single English word appeared on any of the pieces. Even the number that Direct TV had on its flyer was answered by a Spanish speaker, and when I asked to speak to someone in English, he hung up on me. When I called back, it happened again.
My last name may be Garcia, but I married into it. My maiden name is Fenley, and I have blue eyes and freckles and don't speak a lick of Spanish. I live in Texas, not Mexico.
For some reason, the folks pulling the trigger on these marketing messages seem to think it's ok to send someone with an hispanic surname something written entirely in Spanish.
To me, this is the marketing equivalent of racial profiling. It's offensive to me. And it's a waste of their marketing dollars and my time.
Don't get me wrong - my mother in law speaks very little English, and I don't have a problem with materials being directed at what is becoming a ginormous demographic in Texas, and elsewhere in the US.
What I do resent is the total waste that this is creating. Anything you mail me that's written all in Spanish goes right into the recycle bin. What a shame for you that the product or service you're trying to sell me may be perfect for me, but I'll never know, because you wasted precious resources, postage, and my time sending me something that I cannot possibly read.
Everyone, from grocery stores to the government, is now taking steps to be sure our hispanic population can get by here in the land of English. It takes time and money for these folks to print their materials in both languages, so I don't think it's unfair to ask that folks marketing to me make the same effort.
I'm in sales, but I never took any marketing classes in college, so it may be that I just don't get it. I'd love an opinion from your side.....
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Is it that we've dumbed down our kids so much that they don't see anything wrong with addressing a stranger as hon?
I'm a grown up. I went to college, graduated, and paid off every cent of student loans. I have a job. I have a family. I own a home. More important, I'm YOUR CUSTOMER. You know, the lifeblood of your business? The person who directly impacts your bottom line? If the first part of this paragraph isn't enough to convince you that I'm not a "hon" then the last part should.
Calling me hon is patronizing and disrespectful. If I'm important enough to be shopping with you, buying coffee from you, or depositing my money in your financial institution, I would think that you would be smart enough not to refer to me like I'm your three year old niece.
As far as I'm concerned, NO ONE should call me hon or sweeetie, including MrG and I've been sleeping with him for 14 years!
If you're in service or sales, and who really isn't to one degree or another these days, PLEASE find some other filler for your conversations - how about miss, or ma'am, or Mrs. Garcia, or Stephanie?? For the Love of Pete (whoever the hell Pete really is), please please please drop the hon!!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
~ Desiderata ~
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
A funny funny joke I got today.....
How to tell if you are married:
Three women: one engaged, one married and one a mistress, are chatting about their relationships and decided to amaze their men. That night all three will wear black leather bras, stiletto heels and a mask over their eyes. After a few days they meet up for lunch.
The engaged woman: The other night when my fiance came over he found me with a black leather bodice, tall stilettos and a mask. He saw me and said, 'You are the woman of my life. I love you.' Then we made love all night long.
The mistress: Me too! The other night I met my lover at his office and I was wearing the leather bodice, heels, mask over my eyes and a raincoat. When I opened the raincoat he didn't say a word, but we had wild sex all night.
The married woman: I sent the kids to stay at my mother's house for the night. When my husband came home I was wearing the leather bodice, black stockings, stilettos and a mask over my eyes. As soon as he came in the door and saw me he said, 'What's for dinner, Batman?'
I regret to inform you all that after I sent this to MrG at work, he addressed me as Batman upon his arrival at Casa Garcia.
Next week, who knows?