My Three Biggest Irrational Fears

This is an entry that I posted a few months ago on a different site. I figured since I just recently started my blog that I wanted to post it again. It's my blog I can post what I want! There are three completely irrational things that strike fear into my heart like nothing else: flying, tornadoes and porta potties.

First off flying. I know that there are many people with me on this one. Now I know that I'm more likely to die in a car crash than from crashing on an airplane, but whenever I'm about to fly on a plane I'm a nervous wreck for a week before. I'm pretty sure the fear started my first year of college when I was flying back for Christmas break from Laramie, Wyoming to San Diego. Now Laramie is a REALLY small town with an even smaller airport. I used to tell myself that I would never fly on anything with propellers, well what do you know, when I walked out of the terminal there sat my 15 seat propelled chariot awaiting my arrival. Oh & it didn't get any better from there on out. Five minutes after take off all of the lights went out on the plane & it was pitch black (don't know if that was supposed to happen or not, but it did) & then I was pretty sure we were going to drop right out of the sky at least 3 times. That was the bumpiest flight I've ever been on. The flight was only from Laramie to Denver (thankfully when I got to Denver I got to fly on a REAL plane the rest of the way to San Diego), but that flight felt like it took an entire life time! Lets just say that since I've turned 21 flying has been made manageable!

Next would be the tornadoes. I've always been a fan of "The Wizard of Oz" so I know that is not where I get this fear from. I owe this fear to the great states of Kansas & Oklahoma. When I was 8 we moved to Witicha, Kansas. Well one night after we'd been there for about 2 weeks my brother & I were getting ready for bed and suddenly I heard this noise from outside that sounded like we were smack in the middle of a WWII movie and we were about ready to get bombed. My Mom told us it was a tornado siren and we needed to get down in the basement. Well my Dad have a different idea. If my Mom tells you the story my Dad decided he was "Going to be like all the other neighborhood idiots and stand out on the porch and watch for the tornado". So my brother & I are sitting down in the basement with no idea what's going on while my Mom is screaming at my Dad "You better get your dumb ass down here before you get killed"! When we lived in Oklahoma we didn't have a basement, which I still don't know why because we lived smack dab in the middle of tornado alley...hello somebody should have re-thought the housing design on that one. And our basement had a skylight so that left our tiny tiny doll house sized hall closet as the only shelter from tornadoes. Lets just say I have too many memories of being woken up in the middle of the night and crammed into this closet with my Mom, Dad, Brother, our 2 dogs & 3 cats.

Finally the irrational fear above all others. The thing that sends shivers up my spine by simply mentioning its name...the dreaded porta potty. I can't tell you when I became afraid of this ugly blue stinky, claustrophobic contraption people call a bathroom, but I can tell you it's pretty much been my entire life. Every time I step foot in one my eyes start to water & it's not just because of the smell. When I was in elementary school & went to girl scout camp I refused to use the porta potty & I was there for a week. Now that's not to say I didn't try, I just peered down into that black smelly hole & thought a snake might be down there waiting to bite me. Oh & anybody else remember the X Files episode with that faceless freaky creature that lived in a porta potty...only confirmed that fear in my mind! Another time I was on a road trip with my grandparents and we stopped for a picnic & of course the only restroom in site was my favorite blue monstrosity. I figured I was 18 is was time to get over this childhood fear. So I walked in peeked into the black hole & it wasn't as big as I remembered it being when I was a kid (kinda like the characters at Chuck E. Cheese, they seemed a lot bigger when I was small). So anyways I got my circle butt toilet seat protector & prepared to squat. My paper didn't just fall in, that damn porta potty sucked that thing deep into its bowels (excuse the pun). I went running out of there while I was still pulling my pants up! To this day I still can't bring myself to use one of those things. When I was 8 months pregnant with Justin we went hiking and that kid was jumping around on my bladder like it was a trampoline. So I gave myself the pep talk of all pep talks "Jenni, you're 27 it's time to start acting like a grown up!" I marched into that porta potty ready to show it who was boss. So much for that, my bladder was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Another win for the porta potty.

There are so many other irrational fears that I have that I could go on for days, but I'll spare you and just leave you with my top 3.

What's that smell?

So a couple of weeks ago I was enjoying my morning cup of coffee when I heard a weird squeaking noise. I thought it was just my dogs having their morning wrestling match, but then I heard it again and my cat jump across the room faster than I've seen her move in her entire 7 years. It was at that moment I realized I was not alone, there was a mouse in the house. Well it wasn't actually in the house, they crawl in from some hole outside and get stuck underneath the cupboards, so they never actually make it inside. Okay there was one time I came downstairs to my cat playing with a dead mouse in the living room and I was the only one home so I had to muster up some serious courage to pick that critter up and throw it out.

So yesterday I noticed this strange smell when I was in the kitchen and I just thought I accidentally threw Justin's dirty diaper in the trash. The smell however got worse and when my husband and I got home from dinner last night it smelled god awful. This morning it smelled what can only be described as something crawled up somebodies ass and died but times 10! RIP stinky the mouse, you will not be missed and tell your other stinky friends to stay out from the cupboards, it's the point of no return for you and your little mouse friends.

Next week we are getting an AC unit so hopefully we'll be able to find their little entrance and plug it up!

Happy Birthday to SoCalHusband

Today my darling SoCalHusband, is yet another day we celebrate your birth. I just want to take this opportunity to say that as you get closer and closer to 30 I'm hoping that one day you will wake up and realize that farting, teaching the kids to pull your finger, farting on a couch cushion and making a family member smell it, fart jokes or any combination of the above aren't funny unless you are 11.

With that said happy birthday to my SoCalHusband! Love your SoCalWife!

Boys

Is it just ingrained in his genetic makeup already or what? My precious baby boy has turned into my disgusting little boy. I mean come on, I thought I had another year or so at least before he turned into an official card carrying cootie filled member of the boys club.

When I feed him he spits his food back at me and laughs, he'll even spit at me when I tell him not to do something. Evidently the purpose of food is not to nourish, but to see how far it can be thrown, to see how long it takes for mom to notice that noodle stuck to the wall behind the high chair, or to be used as face paint. The funniest thing is that after he eats he'll lay on the floor and pat his belly. I'm just waiting for the day he's sitting on the couch with the remote in hand and the other hand down his pants just like Al Bundy.

Not only is there the food but he learned from a very young age (in utero actually) what to do when he's bored, not bored or to kill a minute or two. That's right his teeny weenie is there for his entertainment. When I actually went for an ultrasound when I was about 5 months pregnant the ultrasound tech had a tough time trying to determine if he was a boy or a girl because he was busy playing with his teeny weenie. I had to roll onto my side while the tech pushed on the side of my stomach to get him to move his hand! And it hasn't stopped since, guess where his hand goes as soon as his diaper comes off and in the bath he'll play with the washrag with one hand while the other is otherwise occupied. Okay it's not really that bad, I exaggerate a little, but it does happen!

I guess it's time to take a deep breath and prepare myself for days full of mud, bugs and cooties.

Dear Disney Channel

Thanks to you Disney channel, today is a very sad day in the SoCalHouse. For whatever reason you have decided to change up your TV schedule. Now doing this to a two year old is like knocking the earth off its axis. The way she is carrying on you would think her favorite teddy bear met an untimely demise thanks to Cassie the Beagle of Terror in the backyard. All my little girl wants to do is watch Mickey Mouse Club House and then "Black Mickey Mouse" (AKA House of Mouse). Thankfully Mickey Mouse Club House is still safe (good thing because I don't think she'd ever get over it) however House of Mouse has taken over the coveted ass crack of dawn time slot. The Doodlebops and Wiggles were also moved to the ass crack of dawn time slot.

Now I'm not complaining one bit about the Wiggles or the Doodlebops. Between you and me Disney Channel if I would have woken up one more time in the middle of the night saying that damn doodlebop pledge I think I would have run off to the looney bin.

Now PBS if we could do something about that crybaby called Caillou!

This kid is great for my ego

If I'm ever feeling down about myself all I should do is have a conversation with my daughter:

Dylan: "Mommy you need clean my hands?"
Me: "No Dylan I already washed your hands."

D: "Oh, you need clean my face?"

M: "No Dylan I already washed your face."

D: "Oh (pause) Mommy?"

M: Yes Dylan?

D: "You're a good Mommy, Mommy."

I love this girl, she is just too sweet!

May Gray

Here I find myself located in supposedly one of the most climate desired cities to live in, sunny San Diego California. Okay so if that is true what is with all of this May gray crap?! The last year and a half I've been in the snowy desert that is Salt Lake City, so when I'd found out we were moving back to Southern California I packed up my bikini and sunscreen and threw out the winter coat and long underwear.

In my eagerness to leave behind the snow and cold for nothing but sun, sun, sun I forgot about the lovely weather phenomenons of May gray and June gloom. For those of you not from the area, these terms are how the meteorologists refer to our lovely fog/cloud cover that just sits in the sky like a big thick gray blanket for pretty much for the entire months of May & June. The sun will creep out from behind the clouds for oh about 15 minutes every other day or so. Just long enough to give you a tease and send you scrambling for the kids and the sunscreen. You spend that 15 minutes getting everyone all lathered up and then as soon as your big toe hits the cement the sun will jump back behind these nasty clouds, shrieking with laughter, looking down at you while you stand there, with a look of bewilderment on your face clad in your swimsuit, sunglasses and big floppy sun hat. I don't mind the sun not shining but at least if it's going to be cloudy can we at least get a little rain out of the deal! I mean come on, it's been cloudy here every day for like the last 100 years...okay more like week and a half, but it sure feels like it's been that long.

From the way I'm talking you would think it's like 50 degrees outside, well it's more like mid 60's probably. I know, I know spoiled Californians, but being in Southern California we get very spoiled with our weather. If the temperature varies a degree or two in either direction from 76 then we are complaining like a group of kindergartners: "It's only 70 outside today we can't go to the beach" or "It's 81 I wish we had invested in that air conditioning unit."

So darling sun, I think I speak for all of the spoiled rotten Southern Californians when I say: "Enough of the May gray, bring on the sunshine that makes us beautiful San Diego!"

In Loving Memory of Genevieve Aston Huguenin

On Saturday, May 19, 2007 the world lost a beautiful person; Geni Aston Hugeunin.
http://obit.baue.com/obit_display.cgi?id=421341&listing=Current

I met Geni in 1999 when my uncle and her mom began dating. I loved her instantly she was so bubbly, happy and just beautiful person inside and out. When I was getting married I asked her to be one of my brides maids. She was surprised and told me "But I'm not really your cousin." I told her that was ridiculous: "Just because we are not related by blood doesn't mean you're not my family. You are my cousin in every sense of the word." My uncle and her mom got divorced before I got married so Geni told me that she felt she shouldn't be in the wedding because she didn't want it to be awkward. I tried to talk her into staying because she was still family to me and she would always be my cousin no matter what happened. She still felt it best to not be in the wedding.

When I learned on Sunday of her tragic death I was shocked and I still am. I just can't believe she's gone. We haven't talked for years, but for some reason on Saturday I started recalling times we spent together: horseback riding, the Del Mar Fair, the jokes and laughter we shared. It was almost as if my heart knew.

I love and will miss you so much Geni. So many people will miss your beautiful spirit. I will take comfort in knowing that the sky will be brighter tonight and every night because your star is shining so brightly.

The mouth of a 2 year old

This is what my 2 year old daughter told my mom this weekend while she was babysitting her:

Grandma: Dylan you need to listen to grandma.
Dylan: No, I listen mommy, I listen daddy, I no listen you!
G: Yes Dylan you need to listen to me (while trying not burst out in a fit of laughter I imagine).
D: No, I listen mommy, I listen daddy, I no listen you!

If this is any indication of the teenage attitude that's in store for me in the future, I think I'm in a lot of trouble.

Hometown Buffet how do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways...

So yesterday was another holiday and what does that mean for my husband's family? Why yes it means another fun filled excursion to Hometown Buffet. Now it's been over a year since I've been on one of these outings because we had moved out of state, but now we are back and so is Hometown. It's not the restaurant itself that I loathe, it's the actual Hometown experience that sends shivers up my spine whenever my husband tells me there's another Hometown trip in my not to distant future.

Now my husband has a very large Italian family headed by Nana for whom the world needs to revolve around. Now I love Nana, she's a sweet lady, a little eccentric, but sweet. Last night was similar to all other Hometown experiences. Sometimes I feel like I'm Bill Murray in "Groundhogs Day" and I'm reliving Hometown every single day of my life. So here's how it all played out:
First there are at minimum 20 of us every time, and the first thing out of Aunt O's mouth is "I don't know why they don't take reservations! We have to wait at least 30 minutes and they won't let us call ahead to tell them that we're coming." While I'm thinking "Well why do we have to come here for every holiday? Of course we are going to have to wait it's 5:30 on MOTHER'S DAY!" Now there's no shock on the employees faces when we show up and say we want a table for 20+ because we always go to the same Hometown. They smile sweetly and usher us off to the side to wait. We either have to wait standing against the mirror by the salad bar, or down the hallway that leads to the restrooms. This is one of my favorite parts of the experience because we stand there watching other people get their food while they look at us like we're a family of circus side show freaks. Last night I watched a kid pick his nose and then grab some cherry tomatoes with the very same hand (mental note: no tomatoes on the salad tonight)! On one of the other previous outings when we were lined up down the hallway leading to the restrooms the kids were applauding as people exited the bathroom. Yeah, we're a classy bunch.

Now of course we have to wait a little longer because we have to wait for a table in the middle of the restaurant because we can't sit next to the door because Nana will get too cold. Even if it's 100 degrees outside, she'd get cold. She wears two pairs of long underwear, two pairs of sweat pants, three shirts and then a sweater on top of all that and she's still cold. I remember sweating bullets during my bridal shower (which was in June) because she was cold and wouldn't let my MIL open the doors for a breeze. Now Hometown is the only restaurant Nana will eat at because she will only eat chicken legs & baked potatoes (see I told you eccentric). Then of course they want one large table together, well I'm sorry but they don't make tables for 20+ unless of course you're a king.

Finally we get our tables and then begins the most confusing word problem of all: "When you have 20+ members of this Italian family and three tables where is everybody going to sit and who are they going to sit next to?" So we stand there next to our tables for another 10 minutes while we work out this unbelievably difficult word problem. While once more our fellow patrons are staring at us like we're a bunch of freaks. Finally it's time to eat and stuff ourselves silly while we make fun of other patrons and laugh like crazy. Then it's time to leave with hugs and kisses all around...until we meet again Hometown Buffet.

Date Night

Finally the night I have been dreaming of for what seems like forever...a date with my husband. Oh sure we've gone out since the kids have been born a movie here and quick dinner date there. This though was going to be a date night for the record books...a get all gussied up going out event.

The thought of actually getting to have conversations that didn't include the words: potty, nap, time-out, share, juice or bottle kept me giddy with anticipation. So much so that when my husband called me on the phone 4 hours before this magical event to tell me that it wasn't going to be as nice as he originally thought. I suddenly felt as if I was back in high school and had been stood up by the quarterback of the football team. What did he mean not as nice as he'd thought. I went out and bought the most perfect little black dress that I looked fabulous in, hell I'd even shaved my legs. "What's the big deal" he told me "Don't you just have a pair of slacks you can wear?" Oh the horror...here one minute I was going to get all dolled up to go socialize and the next minute I was just getting dressed up as if I was going for just a regular day at the office.

My horror however was short lived, about an hour later he called back and told me never mind forget the slacks...little black dress was a go. I soaked in every minute of getting ready and finally my prince charming and I were ready to ride off in our pumpkin to the ball. Instead of my fairy godmother warning me of being home at midnight I left with the words of my daughter ringing in my ear "Mommy beautiful." And with that we were off for our adult infused evening.

I think the Karma Gods made a serious mistake!

I'm pretty sure the Karma Gods made a mistake when constructing my beloved little girls personality. She really is a great kid; she's well behaved and very happy, but there is one thing about her that in my opinion was meant for my brothers unborn children.

The other night I went to the mall because I needed to get a dress for a banquet for my husbands work (I'll take any excuse to buy a new dress and a pair of shoes)! Shopping trips usually aren't too big of a fiasco...I mean she's your typical 2.5 year old, she's not out of control, just overly curious. She was pretty much asleep when we got to the mall so I figured she'd be especially good....WRONG!

The first store we were in she was running up and down a row of dresses with her arms outstretched hitting all the dresses as she ran past yelling "Beautiful dresses Mommy!" While the sales girl who has obviously never been around a rambunctious 2 year old before shot me dirty looks from her register. The next store wasn't much better. I was looking through a rack of dresses and looked down at my side to where Dylan should have been standing, but she wasn't there. I looked at my Mom and asked her where Dylan was and she pointed quietly at the rack of dresses where my daughter had managed to camouflage everything but one blue eye that was peeking out at me. Then I made the biggest mistake of them all...I brought her into the dressing room with me. Once in there she decided while I was in mid-zip to throw open the dressing room door (and of course I had the dressing room that was in clear view of the entire store). Now I've made this mistake before, so I was prepared and jumped behind the door just in time.

I was always such a good kid, never giving my Mom and kind of trouble (from what I can remember and in my humble opinion). My brother however used to do the same kinds of things to my Mom: hiding in stores, peeking under dressing room/bathroom stalls the whole bit. This is why I say the Karma Gods have clearly made a mistake and blessed me with a version of my baby brother...YIKES!