PerspectiveI rarely cry. I’m not kidding.  I probably break down in tears 2 or 3 times a year.  I’ve just never been one to cry (probably because I’m an ugly crier). Granted, I avoid sad movies and that horrible Sarah McLachlan commercial with the sad animals, but still. I rarely cry.

As you may know, I’ve had some health issues for about a year and a half and for some reason they continue. I’m not sure if it’s because the universe thinks I can take it, or if this is its way of bitch-slapping me.

It’s probably 50/50.

I take a positive approach to everything and have tried to take this on the chin, but it’s getting kind of difficult. I feel crappy all the time and feel like I’m losing a sense of myself because I’m usually a zombie from the medicines. Lately I’ve felt like if I could cry, I might feel better, but then again, I can’t cry.  (See above.)

So today I was feeling especially miserable so I emailed my husband.  I didn’t want to talk but wanted to touch base with him as we normally do throughout the day. I told him I was frustrated.

And then he sent me the most perfect email that changed everything.  He told me he loved our perfect marriage and our life together, and he told me to watch this.

And just like that, I began to cry. No, I began to wail like a baby.

Every negative thought I had about anything just drifted away. I was laying in bed watching this with Shady Jack at my side staring at me, Max at my feet and Bentley licking my tears away. I thought about how my husband was so thoughtful to say that this song reminded him of me and that he knew I needed this. I needed to cry. I needed to be reminded that things aren’t really that bad.

All of a sudden I realized that my life is amazing. Not because I have a huge house or an enormous diamond (because I don’t).  But because I have so many things that are invaluable to me. My dogs, my sweet niece, and my amazing husband. What else did I need?

I realized that what I really needed wasn’t necessarily to cry, but to gain some perspective. The universe wasn’t bitch-slapping me to be mean–it was bitch-slapping me because I needed it. I needed to focus on what’s really important in life. Somehow I got lost along the way worrying about paying the bills and when I’ll be able to return to work.

Yes, those things matter but they don’t matter as much as the love that surrounds me. That’s the real joy and that’s what life is all about.

My mom always says “The best things in life aren’t things.” I’ve always tried to live by that motto, but it’s good to be reminded of it every now and then.

So take a look around you. Not at what you physically have, but at the love that surrounds you. I bet you take it for granted.  I know I did.  But don’t.

There is nothing more important or precious than those you love, and that should be what gets you through those hard times. It isn’t money to pay the bills or having the newest gadget. It’s who makes you feel good about yourself and who supports you no matter what.

I’m so thankful for the bitch-slap. I needed it. Hopefully this post will bitch-slap you too.


Other Places I’m On The Web This Week!

8 Ridiculously Petty Fights My Husband And I Actually Had (with funny gifs!)

10 “Wierd” Things That Couples Do That Are Actually Totally Normal

15 Things That Will Surprise You About Men When You Move In


My husband is sleeping with someone else.  I’ve tried to deny it but I can’t do it anymore. I can no longer turn a blind eye to him sharing our bed with another.  The object of his affections?

I can't deny her beauty.

I can’t deny her beauty.

His knee pillow.

Shady Jack loves her.

Shady Jack loves her.

Her name is Charlene.  Lovely name, isn’t it?  He refers to her as his knee pillow.  I refer to her as his whore.

Since he has bony knees, he says he needs her to keep them from knocking together while he sleeps,.  I’m not so sure if he really has this problem or if he just likes the way she feels.

She’s fluffy and snuggley and warm and I understand why she’s so appealing.  Hell, sometimes I sleep with her when Matt isn’t around.

Charlene is a slut that way.

I’m not sure when it began, but the hardest part of all of this is knowing I introduced them.  I brought her into our home and into our bed.  I just didn’t know at the time the ramifications of my actions.

I do now.

Sweet Max tolerates her (but didn't know his photo was being taken)

Sweet Max tolerates her (but didn’t know his photo was being taken)

And now I;m fearful he’s addicted to Charlene and will never leave her.  He claims she helps him sleep.  Isn’t that always the way addiction starts?  “Just this one time to help me sleep.”  Before I knew it he was using her several nights a week.

And now? Now he won’t go a single night without her.

Maybe I shouldn’t be worried.  Maybe I should let it be.  If he needs a knee pillow I should be okay with it.  After all, I need my linen spray and eye mask to sleep (sometimes served with a side of vodka).

Maybe I should learn to love Charlene.  She isn’t going anywhere anytime soon so maybe I should embrace her…literally.  She does make a good pillow.

I don’t know.  Maybe I should take some time to figure all of this out.  I think I’ll sleep on it…with Charlene, of course.

Bentley hates her.  Bentley hates everyone that threatens his mama.

Bentley hates her. Bentley hates everyone that threatens his mama.

Dear Summer,

You are my favorite season of the year, and I’m sad to see you go.  I keep trying to convince you to stay, but apparently I “repulse you in swimwear.”  Whatever.  I still love you because you give me an excuse to wear flowy dresses that hide my stomach fat.

Not only do they hide bulges, the dresses allow me to get away with not wearing Spanx, which makes me more pleasant to others.  I’m far happier when I’m not scratching my crotch every five seconds and whining that my ribs are breaking from the force of nylon.  Thanks for that.

So I guess I will send you off with a farewell letter.  It’s the only thing I can do since you won’t stay in exchange for a sweet coupon book that entitles you to discounts at local restaurants.  Apparently you aren’t a thrifty shopper.  Noted.  Instead, I will send you off with a goodbye letter and count down the days until I see your lovely face again (and then curse myself for not dieting over the winter).

I guess this means I can say “so long” to the poorly behaved kids at the pool (or maybe I can yell this with excitement instead).  Looks like you will have to fend for yourself another year without having me around to give you dirty looks and remind you that you’re not special.  You’re really not.  Your mom might tell you that you’re improving with your swimming lessons, but we both know your dives suck.

Sayonara messy ponytail.  Most people wore you because it was trendy, but I wore you because I’m lazy and was excited that something messy was in style for once.  Unfortunately, other disheveled looks like rumpled dresses and stained t-shirts haven’t hit the fashion circuit…yet.

Goodbye constant stream of sweat going down my back into my pants.  You always seemed to come around at bad times, but your presence made me giggle (mostly because it tickled).  I won’t even hold a grudge against you for all the times you made my ass hospitable to swamp-like creatures.

boy splashing

See you later ladies at the pool, with bodies of women in their twenties, and faces that haven’t seen sunscreen in years.  I will miss mocking you and trying to figure out if your outfit came from Charlotte Russe or Forever 21.  (P.S.  You are not Forever 21.  You’re not even “Forever 39” despite the fact you’ve had a 39th birthday the last 5 years.  We can count and we’ve been counting both the years of your birthdays and the crows feet around your eyes.)  I think I will miss you most of all.

Until we meet again,

Shady Jack is normally a very happy dog…the happiest of dogs, actually.  He has a zeal for life that puts a smile on my face, although his farts will clear a room.  Seriously.

They’re toxic…but it’s secretly another reason I love him so much.

Shady Jack is a simple man, who likes to always have a toy in his mouth and another dog’s genitalia near his nose.

These are the things that make him happy, and although the crotch sniffing is a bit disturbing, I’m okay with it if it makes him happy.

So when we made appointments for the other two dogs to go to the groomers, we thought Shady Jack would be fine.  In fact, I thought he would enjoy his day home alone with me.

Shady Jack is a short haired dog and doesn’t need to be groomed, although the other two do.  However, he needs to be Furminated about every 20 minutes, as that guy sheds fur worse than a college freshman sheds her convictions that first semester of college.

My husband leashed up the other two dogs on Saturday morning, as Shady Jack ran around the house doing a victory lap. Hhe clearly believed he would be the third dog to be leashed.

Back CameraWhen he skidded to a stop on the kitchen floor, he discovered my husband didn’t have his least.

Always the optimist, Shady Jack followed my husband to the door, confident he would leave with them, despite the lack of leash.

When we first got him he escaped our house twice, and both times resulted in my near heart attack and Shady Jack coming back covered in dog poo.  He literally returned with a shit eating grin.  He should have known there was no way he was leaving the house unleashed ever again.

My husband grabbed Bentley, who was shaking profusely and looking at me with pleading eyes, begging me not to let him go.  He also grabbed Max, who seemed blissfully ignorant that something unpleasant might be about to happen.

I watched my husband take a trembling Bentley and a jubilant Max to the car and then they drove away, noses pressed to the glass…the dogs’ noses.  Not my husband’s.  That would just be weird.

I then turned my attention to Shady Jack, who seemed to be a different dog entirely.  Gone was the constant wagging tail and the skip in his step.

Back CameraInstead, he was somber and sad, and looked at me as if I had just shredded his favorite squeaky toy right in front of him.

I knew the best way to cheer him up was with a toy, as he loved to prance around the house with a toy in his mouth, showing the toy all the cool places in the house.

He is especially fond of the back of the couch, and takes all his toys there to show them the view from the window. I like to think he enjoys watching the freakshow across the street, but I’m pretty sure he’s just watching squirrels.

I figured this would make him happy, but when I tried to give him his favorite toy, which is an actual sized foot with painted nails.  I’m pretty sure he has a fetish.

He wouldn’t even take it.  He looked at me as if to say “You’ve taken my friends away, what’s the point in going on?”  D-rama Queen!!!!!

I spent the rest of the day trying to console him and failing miserably.  I gave him a fake pig ear to chew on, and he ate it and then went to his kennel to sulk. Clearly, dining on swine didn’t do the trick, although it always seemed to work for me.

I thought maybe a walk would cheer him up.  I put his leash on him and we went for a walk, but all he did was wander aimlessly on the walk.  He didn’t bother to mark his favorite trees, which is usually the highlight of his walk.

It was if he had given up.  His heart was officially broken.  When we came home from the walk, he went into the bedroom and this is how I found him.

If he was capable of opening a bottle of Scotch, he would have done so to drown his sorrows.  He was inconsolable and I knew I should just let him have his time to grieve,

Just about that time my husband arrived home with our two freshly bathed and groomed dogs, and Shady Jack’s world changed immediately. 
 as clearly there was nothing I could do.

He jumped off the bed and greeted the dogs at the door with crotch sniffs, and even a lick or two.  He chased Max around the house and even allowed Bentley to nip at him briefly.

The wag in his tail was back and I couldn’t have been happier, although I was a little heartbroken that I couldn’t fill the void the dogs did.

Clearly he would prefer to sniff the other dogs’ crotch than my crotch, and after thinking it through, that’s fine with me.

Now he’s back to happy Shady Jack, and the world is as it should be.