Welcome To My Life, Ed. 3 Vol III

Last night, Huey swiped an ENTIRE piece of pizza off Cowboy H's plate AND snarfed the WHOLE thing before either of us even knew it was gone.

Seriously. Nobody even saw it happen.

It was hilarious. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe.

The funniest part was, Cowboy H trying to blame me for stealing his pizza because I had no idea what he was talking about.

HEY! Where'd my? Did you? I had four pieces!

For probably the first time ever, Hank was sitting innocently at my feet.

And Huey? He was hiding behind the couch, licking his chops, all evidence properly destroyed by the time we figured out what happened.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 3 Vol II

The other day, I was woken up by the sound of a dog gagging and heaving, attempting to puke in my bedroom. It was still dark, very dark, and I flung myself out of bed and stumbled and fumbled around the room in a pathetic attempt to get the dog out of the house before the vomit actually came out.

By the time I got my bearings and turned on a light it was too late. Little Hanky-Panky deposited a solid chunk of bone the size of a large marble right on the carpet. Still staggering around, I shuffled him outside since he was still heaving.

First thing I thought: "Thank goodness that came back up, because there was no way it was going to come out the other end."

Second thing I thought (after glancing at my clock; remember its pitch black outside): "Phew, at least I have another hour to sleep before my alarm goes off."

And, before the thought was even completed, the alarm went off.

Stupid dog.

Stupid time change.

Stupid Monday.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 3, Vol I

Last night, I left work with a beginning-stage migraine and a little vertigo, so I went straight home and dove under the covers in my dark bedroom.

Cowboy H offered to just order pizza for dinner (thank you, sweetie) and picked out a movie with his grandma to stream from NetFlicks while I was hiding out.

When the pizza arrived, he woke me and I staggered out to the living room to join them, feeling much much better.

"What are you guys watching?" I asked since the movie was paused.

"Oh, 40 Days and 40 Nights", Cowboy H responded.

Don't ask me who picked it; I was not involved. I mean, maybe it was an innocent mistake. All I know is we were sitting there, eating dinner and watching a movie completely and utterly about nothing but SEX, with his grandma.

Talk about AWKWARD.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 2, Vol III

At 2 am this morning, the smoke alarm went off.

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

Then, silence.

Cowboy H: What the?!?!

Mama H: (mumbling) It's the smoke alarm.

Cowboy H: But why did it go off? Has it done that before?

Mama H: (mumbles something)

Cowboy H gets out of bed to investigate. Mama H's eyes roll back in her head and all she can think is Do NOT make me get out of bed.

Cowboy H returns from investigating and gets back in bed.

Mama H: (mumbling) What was it?

Cowboy H: I don't know. That's weird that it just went off for no reason. Maybe its a ghost.

Mama H: (a little more coherently) Maybe the fire got so hot it set it off. Maybe it has a temperature sensor.

Cowboy H: No, that wouldn't be it.

Both roll back over and start to fall back asleep.

Cowboy H: (mumbling now) You set it off. You're so smoking hot you set off the smoke alarm.

Mama H: (smiles and snuggles in)

Good golly, I love my man.

Welcome to My Life, Ed. 2, Vol I

This morning, I managed to spill an entire cup of coffee on the white carpet in our bedroom.

Then I watched the dogs clean it up for me.

Just kidding! But they did try to help.

Cowboy H laid in bed and just watched me, eyes rolling.

What did I get myself into again?

He forgets sometimes what a mess I am, specially when he has a home-cooked meal each night. Home-cooking will do that to a man, make him forget things (just a free little tip for all you ladies out there).

Welcome to My Life, Ed. 1, Vol IIII

Cowboy H's exact words to me:

"Your dog is NOT too big to fit through the hole. Your dog is the PERFECT size to squeeze through the hole, grab the dirty laundry and drag it all out into the backyard."

My response (fighting an outburst of laughter because Cowboy H was very upset):

"It's like they were going to have a yard sale."

At least nothing was torn up. Yet.

Welcome To My Life, Ed. 1, Vol. III

I forgot to put deodorant on today.

Yep, I sure did. Cowboy H got into the bathroom before me and it messed up my whole morning routine. In the morning, before my coffee has kicked in, I function purely by muscle memory. Actually, I can barely function, but since I have a specific routine, I manage. So this morning, right as I was getting ready to put my contacts in, get dressed and brush my teeth (in that particular order), Cowboy H beat me to the bathroom. To not waste time I got dressed, which was most definitely out of order. But the deodorant was in the bathroom. So I told myself to put it on when I brushed my teeth. Which would have been out of order. And, of course, as soon as I was able to get into the bathroom, muscle memory kicked in and I forgot the deodorant.

At least I remembered to put my contacts in.

And at least I remembered pants.

Good thing I'm not going to the gym tonight.

The Welcome To My Life Series

I think I'm going to make this a series. The "Welcome To My Life" series. So you all can the mess I am on a daily basis. On the surface, things look pretty good at The Homestead. But in reality, its chaos. Mostly because I'm a mess. There's a reason my dad nicknamed me Jess the Mess when I was a toddler. And there's a reason it stuck.

Welcome to My Life, Ed. 1, Vol. II

Sunday morning, Cowboy H and I got to stay in bed together until 8:30 am! It was glorious. Of course, I had to get up at 2:30 am to let the cat in, and again at 6:30 am to let the dogs out, but still.

Cowboy H made it to the kitchen before I did, and started the coffee. (I love that man.) I pulled on some sweats and shuffled in with bare feet a few minutes later. Entering the kitchen, I went around the left side of the kitchen island into the space between the fridge and island and turned to my right. At this point I was facing the kitchen/dining area that was on my right side when I walked in. The side I hadn't bothered to look at.

"Ah, shit."

And there it was. A pile of shit on the floor. Ugh. Guess the dogs were trying to tell me something when they were running up and down the hallway at 6:00.

So, I clean it up. And I haven't even had coffee yet.

Cowboy H makes himself a bowl of cereal and sits down at the kitchen table. Conveniently, he sits down on the right side of the table, away from where the poop-poo was. I make my way to the opposite side of the table to sit across from him.

"Ughhghhghghghghg."

"What?"

"Uuughghghhhh. Get some paper towels."

Yes, the dogs had left us not only poop, but pee. Pee which was deftly hidden under the kitchen table. Pee which I discovered with my bare foot. Pee which I had to clean up before I even poured myself a cup of coffee.

"I HAVEN'T EVEN HAD ANY COFFEE YET!"

Welcome to my life. Anyone want to trade?

Even just for a day??

"Welcome to my life"

That's what I said to Cowboy H as we sat in the Emergency Room the Wednesday night before the wedding.

"This is the story of my life. You realize that don't you? Ok, just checking. Cuz this is my life."

Everyone tells you that the week before the wedding is chaos. Yeah, yeah. They say that all hell breaks loose. Uh-huh. They say that you suddenly remember everything you forgot that week. Whatever.

Well, I have a disclaimer:

THE WEEK BEFORE MY WEDDING WOULD HAVE SUCKED BALLS EVEN IF IS WAS NOT THE WEEK BEFORE MY WEDDING.

Here, I'll give you the run-down:

• Cowboy H's family trickled in on Friday.

• Saturday evening I noticed that the programs (that I had worked so hard on getting done ahead of time) had a type-o. Well, the word was spelled correctly, but it was the wrong word. So they had to be reprinted.

• Sunday evening, Cowboy H shattered his Tungsten wedding band. Yes, shattered. And yes, Tungsten.

• Tuesday night my cat died. And we buried her. It was sad

• Wednesday night I was at the ER for severe eye allergies. I wanted to scratch my eyes out. It wouldn't quit. I looked like I had been crying for 7 days straight.

• Friday I was back at the eye doctor because my eye situation hadn't improved at all. I was pretty sure I was not going to be wearing my contacts, let alone any makeup, on Saturday.

• After significant improvement throughout the afternoon due to better medication, my eyes flared up again during rehearsal dinner. It got so bad I could barely open them.

• Saturday morning, all went well until about 11:45 am, when I realized I had lost the ring the jewelry shop had LOANED us.