I took a few yoga classes in college and I’ve been wanting to take them again for awhile but unfortunately Bartlesville has yet to acquire any actual yoga studio, where they have classes throughout the week at different times of day. Apparently the YMCA has yoga classes but last I checked they called it “Stretching”. When I asked the receptionist about this she said in a hushed voice that the class never enticed people to take part when it was called yoga because of the whole “hindu thing” so they called it stretching and nobody knows the difference. Sometimes living in the bible belt makes me seriously moody.

Matt: Hi
Cindy: Hey

Me: Hi
Mike: Hey

Matt: Oh, wow! You’ve re-decorated!

Mike: Wha?

Carleen: Oh. No….that’s just the laundry.

Comic book nerds rejoice…

And yes, I’ve changed our template once again and yes, I know it’s girly and has absolutely nothing to do with monkeys so let’s just try to have a sense of humor about it, shall we (Mike…)?

I’ve also changed Liam’s page a little…under recent video you can see him making cute faces and saying his first distinct sound (ba). He also recently started crawling (scootching more like, but he gets around).

The other night I had this horrible dream involving dogs and puppies. When I woke up it felt like I had spent the entire night with canines. Turbo and Chani were sitting in our sun room waiting for me to open the glass door, except as I stepped closer to the door I realized that there was a mirror image in front of me, two sliding doors side by side. Behind one were our two dogs. Behind the other were our two dogs again except they were beaten and limping, behind them was another large dog who sort of reminded me of those breeds of dogs the Egyptians used. He was also beaten and had two of its legs missing. Later on in the dream I was at some sort of shelter. There were dogs and cages everywhere, yelping and whining. I was frantically trying to tend to them all when I noticed my old art bin from college, the one I used to store all my art supplies in. I opened it and someone had stuffed a bunch of puppies inside there. They were still alive, but they were all smooshed.

Then yesterday I dreamt that Liam was growing metal in his mouth which provided for some really awful images, too disturbing to talk about here. He seems to be going through a teething episode right now so I imagine that’s why I dreamt that one. My mom has always told me about these horrible dreams she used to have, especially after she became a mother and it looks like I’ve inherited some of that. It leaves me feeling so traumatized in the morning.

There was so much I planned to do this week. I was going to work on Liam’s scrapbook. Learn how to crochet granny squares and start a blanket. Organize my life online…which is becoming increasingly scattered, social networking profiles scattered everywhere, too many blogs, rss readers everywhere. Read big thick books. Blog a bunch of stuff on my mind. Email people I’m loosing touch with. Altered book crafts. Sew curtains. Reorganize closets. Clean skirting boards. Work in the garden. Walk the dogs. Play with the dogs. Of course, spend time with my family and relax. I have literally been waiting for this week since October, when I went back to work after maternity leave. As it is, pretty much nothing got done. I baked cookies. Chocolate Chip oatmeal cookies which turned out so hard that you have to microwave them or dip them in tea in order to bite into them.

Priority for this week became spending time with Mike and Liam and trying to relax as much as possible. I think we did get some of that in. I guess this is sort of a reality check for Mike and I who sort of assumed a vacation as parents was still a vacation whereas it’s more like a negotiated schedule of freetime.

Study: Abstinence classes don’t stop sex

Next is getting to the fruit. The skin is thick and difficult to cut. And the shape of the pit is strange, like a flattened football. Not to mention the fact that the fruit is none too enthusiastic about seperating from the pit. And when ripe, mango’s are incredibly juicy and terribly messy. Plus the juice stains something awful - a super bright neon yellow. Oh, I almost forgot that since they are, like most fruit, pulled off the tree before they’re ripe, you have to wait until they’re ripe a process that I’ve seen take a good week and a half, and that’s sitting on the counter in a little basket - this is not a fruit to keep in the fridge.

But, despite all this, when you get one just perfect it’s almost heavenly to eat. Don’t interrupt me when I’m eating a good mango, cause let me tell you - whatever you got, it’s a far second to that mango at that moment. If there’s no blood, then it can wait.

I tend towards being a person who bends over backwards for other people, I see it as being respectful of other peoples needs and trying to be cooperative. It leaves me open to being a Welcome Mat, on occasion. Which leads me to silent brooding or venting my anger on someone removed from the situation who can do nothing about it. Take an example today, for instance. My friend Brian is getting married in June and I’m his Best Man. I went to a local formal wear shop to get tux measurements. After waiting for several people in front of me to be taken care of, I explained to one of the men what I needed. His response boiled down to, “It’s prom season, we’re terribly busy and you’re just going to have to wait while I man the phones.” At the time I was told this, I was one of two people actually in the store at the time. I told him that we had other things to do and that I’d just come back tomorrow. While in the back of my mind complaining that, I’m in the store now, standard business practices (as I’m used to) are that people in the store get waited on BEFORE taking phone calls. When I left the store I complained to Carleen, who tells me she’d be right back and walks into the store (she’d been waiting in the car with Liam). Well, she gave me the signal and we went back into the store. Where we waited.

I was very proud of my wife at this point - she has always been incredibly assertive in a way that I envy. She’s never been “bitchy” assertive, simply “This is what is right, you aren’t doing it that way and I’m not happy.” We continued waiting until Telephone Guy comes back over asking what we needed. I explained again, and he told me the same thing. Carleen got in an arguement with him, his response was basically, we weren’t buying anything so we could be made to wait indefinitely. Carleen expresses her disproval and we leave the store - I hadn’t said a word. This really upset me, and made me feel ashamed - like I had to go out to the car and call in my wife (a.k.a. “the Big Guns) to get what I wanted.

My second form of anger comes when I’m in a situation that I have no control over. The two events that spawn this anger are working on my machine - I don’t know anything about machines and problems are a complete mystery to me; and Liam. Getting Liam to sleep properly, getting him to feed properly, figuring out what is bothering him. He can’t communicate what is wrong and it frustrates me. These are the types of problems that spawn my more outburst types of anger - generally against inanimate objects - tossing paper or tools, slamming doors, throwing bottles, etc.

Unfortunately I haven’t gotten any further than that in my books, so I don’t know what to do with that information, but it’s a step in the right direction, at least.