And who would have thought...

Isn't it ironic, don't ya think? I really do like that song. Okay, so what's ironic? The fact that I'm making this post directly after my last post about NOT WANTING to go back to teaching and having anything to do with teenagers. What's the irony in that? Well, just that for the past many months (I'm too lazy to think and count and what, you think I'm just some math whiz or something to pull that number outta my head, like there's a limited number of months of the year and I should be able to subtract from 12...) I've been TEACHING TEENAGERS! Which is why you shouldn't believe anything you read here or take me seriously, ever. I just thought it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. I'd be able to see if I really wanted to go back to teaching or if it sucked as much as I remembered. And the truth is....both and neither. I know, I confuse myself. That could be because I've been drinking. Seriously though, I learned a lot about myself and I like to think I weathered the year pretty well (minus my growing waistline and haggish appearance). I learned that I don't mind going to work, I like feeling productive, I generally get along fairly well with other adults (but that could be because, as a teacher, I have limited exposure to them), and I do okay with teenagers (jury might still be out on that one depending on who you ask). What I didn't enjoy is the stress, the never having time for myself, never feeling like I have enough time for my kids, not having enough time for things I truly enjoy (like fitness and being skinny), and realizing that I'm just not that passionate about teaching Spanish. I also found out I'm old and have zero knowledge of technology or current pop culture. The past couple of weeks I've been a roller coaster ride of deciding whether or not to continue my teaching career. I have the option of staying home (which many people do not) and when I was hired it was with the understanding that if it didn't work out then they would be able to advertise in the Spring (unlike last Summer when it was later in the game and they were worried about who they'd get...and then they got me, hehe). Surprisingly to myself this was a tougher decision than I thought it would be. I truly did not anticipate joining the workforce until my kids were older and more self-reliant, something I've struggled with all year. However, I really do enjoy my co-workers and thinking about leaving them has made me very sad. They have become my extended family and they have made me feel welcome and appreciated - something you don't get from being a stay at home mom. However, I have decided that I want to be home with my kids while they still need me and want me there. I also want to explore some other future career ideas, maybe take some classes, and get back to fitness - which has been a huge part of my life for the past 8 years and I have missed it. And what about my students? They'll be fine. Teachers are replaceable. Moms are not.

I'm back! Okay, not really. I'm just bored and don't want to go to bed.

So, I have come to the realization that eventually I might want to get a job. My youngest starts preschool next year, which means pretty soon I will have an empty house during school. I always thought that was the light at the end of the tunnel and I was going to spend my days reading and reading and reading, or on Facebook. But I've decided that I wouldn't mind going back to work, at least part-time, mostly because everyone else works and they don't have time to post on Facebook all day and keep me entertained. The problem is that I don't want to go back to teaching. Too stressful and I did not spend every moment of the last 8 years with kids just to go spend more time with kids that aren't even mine. I would like to be around grown ups for a change. People that can swear and you don't have to give them detention for it. But, since that is the only degree I have and I have basically sequestered myself for the last decade...what the fuck else can I do? The answer is: not much. I have no training in anything, besides a few fitness classes. And no, personal training is out. Those hours suck and I'm at the gym enough. I don't want to live there. I don't want to do anything that would require a lot more schooling, I'd prefer to not have to wear a dorky uniform, work with teenagers in any way, and I don't want to be required to work most weekends or any holidays. Oh, and no, I will not wear a hairnet or wipe butts. So this leaves...uh...right. I got nuthin. Crap. Can't someone just pay me a million dollars to write this dumb blog? It's entertaining, sort of, in a totally narcissistic "look at the freak show" kind of way. I'm sure if someone wanted to advertise antidepressants or bipolar meds on here someone would fall for it. Ooh! No wait! Booze advertisments! That's what I need on here! I'm totally gonna send this blog address out to the booze companies. But only top shelf stuff. None of the cheap crap on here. I'm too classy for that. I have taste! And not the Dos Equis stuff either (or whatever it's called). That guy creeps me out.

Team Kate

So I realize this is old news and most people are sick of it. Well, too bad. I finally have a minute to say my piece so I'm gonna. Jon Gosselin is a shit shit shit-head. Oh boo hoo, Kate was so mean, blah blah blah. She has EIGHT KIDS - and six are the same age, which is a whole different story then those other weirdos who have a million kids all ranging in ages. In that situation the older kids are put to work helping out with the little kids. That isn't exactly possible when the "older" sibs are just a couple years older and way outnumbered. So Kate needs to run a tight ship, and that means getting Jon to do what needs to be done. Yes, she's a little harsh sometimes but I completely understand. Men's brains just don't function like women's do and it gets frustrating. Women know what needs to be done without having to be told, men are all about shortcuts. Women have higher standards than men when it comes to domestic chores, which usually translates into us doing all (or most) of the work because we want it done a certain way (like thinking the kids should have vegetables and home cooked meals instead of take-out every night, or just folding the towels a certain way so they'll all fit into the linen closet and not spill out all over the place). I know there are some men out there who are actually more domestic than their wives but I think it's safe to say Jon did not fall into that category. Yet here we are, berating Kate for getting frustrated. And what does Jon do? He leaves her and has an affair with a young ho with the maturity level of a two year old (me me me!). And people feel sorry for this ass-hat?! Sorry, he gets no sympathy from me. He chose to get married, he chose to have kids, he chose to bail out, and now he chooses to get his picture taken with various girlfriends to be put on the covers of magazines to be seen by his kids if they happen to go to the grocery store.

Maneater? I'm more of a "stress-eater."

I was reading about a new TV show called "Cougar." I can't remember when it's on or what channel but it's a reality show (surprise) about 40-something women looking for love among a bunch of 20-something hardbodies. The article called them "himbos" which I thought was pretty freaking funny. Anyways, I'm going to try to find out when it's on to see what it's like. I'm all for a show that does a little role reversal (since we seem bombarded with shows where women fall all over themselves for one dumb guy). And I can see the draw of a younger guy (hello! all that enthusiasm...) but I don't know if I could date him (assuming I wasn't married blah blah blah). I mean, I already have three kids. I think I'd have a tendency to become the "mother figure" with a younger guy, and that's just gross.

Goodbyes are never easy

Warning: this post might get a little maudlin. There, you've been forewarned. I'm in an introspective mood.

It all began this past January when my husband decided to man up and have a vasectomy (did I blog about that already?). Anyways, it was something that we had discussed while I was preggers with kid #3. I knew I didn't want to get pregnant again and I absolutely did not want to be on birth control for the next 10 years. Plus, TGD, being the smart guy that he is, knew that a vasectomy was the best choice for us (versus those idiots who think their wives should just have a tubal, like it's not an invasive surgery requiring inpatient hospital stay). So I was very glad when he scheduled his appt because the sooner he had it done the sooner I could go off the damn pill. However I will say when he called on his way home to say that he was "oficially out of commission" I had a weird moment. Not like an "oh crap, what have we done" but more of a "I can't believe that we'll never have another baby and that part of our life is done" moment. It made me a little sad - but definitely not regretful of our decision. Anyways, for the past two months we've been using "backup" birth control (because the boys have to get all flushed out before it's safe to back in the water without an inner tube, if you get my drift) and we've had a couple of "oh shit, oops" moments where I get all panicky and take a few pregnancy tests, freaking out the whole time and generally driving TGD insane. Well, tonight I got the news that I can quit being paranoid because the swimmer count is zero. Which once again caused me to have mixed emotions. On the one hand I let out a huge sigh of relief, but then again I felt a little sad at the total finality of it. And just to drive home the point even further, after I got off the phone I went to the bathroom and got my period. So, there it is. No more babies, no more pregnancies. I might have a couple of teary moments tonight and I'll probably hold my 4 month old a little more than usual tomorrow, but I'm not second guessing myself. I know I don't really WANT any more kids or to be pregnant ever again (especially that part), but it doesn't mean I don't need to say my goodbyes to that part of my life. It doesn't mean I can't mourn it, just a little bit.

water and wedgies

It's that time of year again. Well, not really because it's still snowing out, but it's coming...looming out there...just around the corner. That time of year that every woman hates to think about - yep, time to think about SWIMWEAR! Dun Dun Dunn (ominous music). Seriously, I am going to an indoor waterpark next weekend which makes me go "yay fun!" but "crap, I gotta put on a swimsuit." I'm planning on just wearing some crap suit I've got buried in my closet (we've all got at least one of those) because ain't no way I'm shopping for a suit right now. I'm still holding on to the delusion that I'll lose a few more of these baby pounds before summer. But, it has got me thinking about maybe browsing the catalogs and internet just to see what's out there. Every year I am determined to find the perfect swimsuit and of course every year I have to settle for something because there is NO perfect swimsuit. I think that all swimwear designers are either men, women who haven't had kids, or women in their 50s. Swimsuits are either too skimpy or too matronly. Where's the happy medium? Where is the suit that says "Hello, I'm a cute, but yet somewhat sexy 30-ish gal who may or may not have kids (you wouldn't be able to tell because the perfect suit would give you enough support to put your boobs where they're supposed to be and wouldn't ride up over your spare tire)." It would also say "I can look good laying on the beach but I can also go for a swim and not have to worry about my suit falling off or slipping into uncomfortable places" instead of "I'm a housewife who's trying to feel sexy but all I could find was this leopard print tankini that kind of looks like underwear and has a tendency to ride up my crack." And I know I'm complained about it before but c'mon - what's the deal with the boob support?! If I want a suit that actually gives me support it looks like I'm wearing a bra. The other day I was looking in a catalog and I thought I finally found it - hidden underwire in the top and it didn't look like a bra! Then I noticed it was for C-DD bra cup size. What?! Like my B cups are too small to warrent underwire support? Who made up that rule?

So, I'm still continueing my search. If any of you find that perfect suit let me know. I promise not to order it in the same color as you.

His wife could eat no lean

TGD and I had a date night last night. It wasn't originally planned as a date night but those plans got canceled and since we had already booked the sitter we decided to take advantage. We thought about asking some friends to go with but then thought we needed some couple time since it's been a loooooooong time. It was nice to have a conversation and not get interrupted ump-teen times. Anyways, my husband loves appetizers (and I love food in general) so we ordered some nachos before our meal. Fine. But then I went ahead and got dessert too because, what the hey, we're kind of celebrating aren't we? Well, that's the excuse I used. And of course TGD was all "go ahead, order dessert" blah blah blah. But then when it comes to the table he's too full to eat it so I eat the whole darn thing. Ack! I'm trying to lose the baby weight, not gain more! Anyways, it bugs me when he does stuff like that - like refusing dessert. For some reason TGD gets on these healthy eating kicks where he tries to eat more protein and fruit, etc. He even got some protein bars. And I should be encouraging that because I want him to be around for a long time and he needs to be healthy. BUT, because my husband is a freak of nature he can eat whatever he wants and still be healthy. He doesn't gain weight, his cholesterol levels are awesome - and it doesn't matter what he eats! So for some reason it bugs the shit out of me when he starts trying to eat healthy. Like he's rubbing it in my face "look at me, I don't even HAVE to eat healthy but I'm going to because it's good for me." What?! Who thinks like that?! If I could eat whatever I wanted and still be healthy I would have doughnuts for breakfast every day and ice cream every night. Lunch and supper would mainly consist of breads, baked goods, and pasta. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't ever consume a vegetable unless it was loaded down with ranch dressing. So when I see him eating an orange at night because he needs a snack I really want to take a bunch of cookies and shove them down his throat. But then again if I saw him eating a bunch of cookies I'd be jealous because I want to eat cookies! Poor guy. He just can't win. Although don't feel too bad for him - he does have that genetically superior metabolism/digestive system. Skinny bastard.

BTW, that canadian lady who had all those kids is a whack job. Just my opinion.