What we have here is a failure to communicate.

 

For most of the really important things in life, my husband and I are in agreement.  And when I say the ‘important’ ones, I’m talking about the biggies.  

 

You know,   politics … religion… social issues… barbecue.  We are generally smack in one another’s camps about the stuff in life that matters most.  Which is a good thing, and probably has contributed to the longevity of our ‘together’.  We’ve been a couple for more than two decades (what??), and as a result (on account of how youthful we are, and all) we have been together for more than half of our lives.

But, yeah, of course there are a few things that we DO NOT necessarily agree upon.  For example, we both do NOT love college basketball.  I’ll give you a guess which one of us doesn’t.   

And ONE OF US does not like to endlessly surf Pinterest, and find adorable crafty-crafts to ‘pin’, and then never actually complete.    (Well, I guess, in fairness, neither of us actually completes those projects, so we do still have that in common.)

 

Anyway, it’s not a deal-breaker.  Some things we will never see eye to eye on, and I understand.  Truly, I do. 

Except for one thing. 

 

 

 

 

My husband refuses to love Jimmy Fallon like I love Jimmy Fallon.

 

We simply cannot agree on how amazing Jimmy Fallon is.  And it bugs me tremendously that he won’t acknowledge the absolute and utter hilarity that is JIMMY FALLON.  I loved him on SNL (Barry Gibb), and now I really like watching The Tonight Show.  I have never, ever been a late night talk show person, but I try to tune in every night to see what craziness is on the docket.  And I laugh hysterically.  (‘Thank You Notes’?   No, thank YOU, Jimmy!) 

Phil just doesn’t find him as funny as I do, y’all.  
 

Sometimes he even has the nerve to ROLL HIS EYES.  I could understand this behavior if Jay Leno was still on the show (we agreed that we hated him… it was marital bliss), or David Letterman (I only ever liked the Top Ten list, anyway), but, well… I have to admit that I have a not-so-secret crush on Jimmy.  And I think my husband might be just a tiny bit jealous, if you want the truth.  Does he feel 'threatened' by this other guy in my life that makes me laugh?  Maybe, just maybe. ;)

So, at this point, I'm not sure I’m ever going to be able to change his mind about this.  He's seemingly impervious to Mr. Fallon's charm and wit.   

And, unless I want to commit to watching ‘Finding Bigfoot’ as a trade-off, I think we will just have to agree to disagree.

Six for Sunday

1.  It was a great evening for a walk around the neighborhood.  Not too hot, not too humid.  Along the walk, we saw an adorable little cottontail baby bunny.  It was the cutest thing... and it didn't appear to be afraid of us.  It waited until we were just right up on it before it scampered back into the wooded area. 

Isn't nature just the greatest? 

So beautiful, and all... well, natural and stuff? 


So humbling, and a wonder to...









                                              EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK!!!!

And is there any wonder that my walking speed tripled at this point?!!

 Oh, and p.s...  I am married to a crazy man.  He just HAD to get his foot in there for 'perspective', ya know?





2.  "Operation Daily Pinterest Project" (aka 'Operation Summer Beatdown") is progressing quite nicely.  I'm kind of rocking it, but it is still early days, yet.  So, it's been fun, except for the H8TUHS  (I am just lousy with street cred, y'all)... and you KNOW who you are!!  And I am cross-stitching something JUST for you. ;)




3.  So this one time... when I evidently wasn't paying enough attention at the pool... this company that makes swim goggles snapped a picture of my kid to use for their packaging.  And we are NOT getting any royalties, or even any free goggles out of the deal.   So this clearly sucks.

 

 

4.  Today I made some Texas Caviar, and it is super yummy (and pretty).  I'm going to eat it for lunch on salad greens this week, and add some avocado to it.  I will say, though, that the recipe called for TWO jalapenos, and my husband said I should only put in one, otherwise it might be too hot.  Not sure why this Texas girl even listens to an Indiana boy in terms of how much heat to add to a dish... but it was the wrong call here.  Two jalapenos in the future!  Taste buds be damned.

5.  I had a dream last night that it was the first day of school, and I showed up ready to go, only to find out that they had decided to move me to teach kindergarten... KINDERGARTEN! :O

 And that my classroom was being renovated...


...because it was an old run-down barn.  


That's right, a BARN, y'all. 

With rusted farm equipment, and splintered wood everywhere, and horses just running in the fields around the 'school'.    In my dream, I couldn't find my class list, so I just kept rounding up kids that looked like they might be kindergarten age, and I was trying to keep them from playing in the horses' droppings.  I had the brilliant idea to get everyone settled onto bales of hay while I read a story. I think it is a little early in the summertime to be having these types of 'school anxiety' dreams.  I blame the glass of wine right before bed. 

 

 

6.  I thought that I could muster 'Six for Sunday', but... yeah, I got nothin'.   Have a great week :)

The Cycle of Summer

 It is officially summer!  Can I get a ‘hallelujah’?!!

We’re trying to keep busy around here… okay, I’m trying to keep busy around here. 

Because who am I kidding?  Given half a chance, my three little sloths would lie on the couch all day, watching Tom & Jerry reruns, eating cereal straight out of the box.  Which I 100% guarantee will be most of August, but right now? 

Well, right now, these are the bright and breezy (or hot and humid… whichever) days of JUNE, and I am motivated.  I am excited.  I am Julie, the friggin’ cruise ship director for the ‘Love Boat’, and I have big plans.  Big plans and CAMPS…  oh heck yes, we have camps.  Strength & conditioning camp, lacrosse camp, Boy Scout camp, twirling camp, dance camp, Algebra camp (um, admittedly not as popular), and summer band. 

Wake up, kids!   We’re not wasting these mornings… we’ve got stuff to DO.  Trips to the library, lunches out, summer reading lists to tackle, playdates, VBS, preparing for the State twirling competition, and basically catching up on everything that didn’t get done during the school year.

I’m not entirely delusional, though.  I know how it is … soon the bright and breezy days of June will give way to the scorching, 100+ degree heat of July.  And our well laid plans of crafts and cooking projects will be replaced with sleeping late, lazy afternoons by the pool, too much computer time, and snow cones for dinner… and that’s fine, too. 

Then August will roll around, and I’ll start putting my ‘teacher hat’ back on, thinking about bulletin boards, professional development, lesson plans, and setting up my classroom.  As a mom, I’ll be thinking about haircuts, and new school clothes, and new shoes, and school supplies, and wishing that I’d taken care of more of that earlier in the summer, instead of reading yet another Jen Lancaster book at the neighborhood pool.  And the sloths? Well, they’ll be watching Tom & Jerry, or whatever happens to be on Cartoon Network, and eating frozen pizza while they wait for me to get back from my 17^th trip up to my classroom.

Even before I went back to teaching, it was pretty much the way things worked around here.  We (once again, 'we' = 'I') start the summer with great intentions, and eventually taper off until I'm frantically labeling composition books and backpacks the night before school starts. 

It’s my summertime cycle…  I know it, I’ve lived it, and I’m destined to repeat it.

And I’m okay with it. 

Amen, y’all.

Sweet dreams aren't made of this...

Getting ready for work this morning, and my husband mentions that he had a terrible dream last night.

Him:  “It’s one of those that wake you up out of a dead sleep, and you are practically hyperventilating because you are so freaked?”

 

I’ve had those.  I hate those.  Usually my dreams are of the la-la- loopsy variety… you know,  they are difficult to explain,  but seem perfectly logical at the time?  The dreams that I try to tell to Phil, only to have him say really supportive things like, “Wow, a psychiatrist would have a field day with that one.”

But because I know freaky dreams, I was far more supportive and fabulous, and just nodded and said gently… “I hate those.  Was it about the kids?”

Him:  “No.

Me:  “Oh.  Well, then was it about me?”

Him:  “No.”

Me:  “Were there velociraptors in it?”

Him:  “No!”

So, let’s just say that I’m starting to feel a little less supportive.   Because really, if you are going to have a terrifying dream, I’d like to think that it might POSSIBLY involve something happening to the person you are planning to spend your golden years with, or at least feature a scary dinosaur with razor sharp claws.    Otherwise,  I’m failing to see what the problem is.

Me:  “Well, what was it?”

Him:  “I dreamt that I was in the kitchen talking to you (so clearly I did make it into the dream) and I felt something drip onto my arm. 

Me:  “Ew.”

Him:  “And then I felt another drip… and I looked up and there was a huge puddle of water gathering onto the ceiling from a leak upstairs, and it was starting to drip… drip…drip…  And then by the time I got to the stairs, water was flooding through the playroom, and starting to pour down the stairs!”

I may or may not have screamed when he got to this point.  I’m admitting nothing.  But after dealing with water damage in our house this spring, and all the chaos that went with it, I can see how this would now qualify as a ‘horrifying’ dream for my husband.    

 

Even without the velociraptors.