It's YOUR turn to pray!

My husband and I have a mini-battle every night of our lives.

We argue.

About prayer.

Ironic, eh?

It goes like so:

We are cuddling on the couch watching television. (I'm totally into the X-Factor right now.  My man humors me.  But then again, I humor him with all his antique boring car shows.)  10 p.m. rolls around.

Mr. Hotty Pants Pistol:  *yawn*  I'm going to bed. I'm beat.  I gotta get up at 5 to lift. *yawn*

(My husband lifts weights every morning and is stronger than 10 oxen. He is built like a Mack truck and looks super scary. If I weren't his wife I wouldn't mess with him... But I AM his wife and messing with him is in the contract.  It's my JOB.)

Me:  Mmk.  I'm gonna read for a bit. I need to unwind.  I'll go to bed soon.

Mr. Hotty Pants:   So... you want to say a prayer.

Me:  Yup.  Your turn.

Mr. Hotty:  Nope.  It's your turn.

Me:  It is NOT!  I said it last night!

Mr. Pants: No. I said it last night.

Me:  Whatever.  It is TOTALLY your turn.  I'm not saying it.  YOU'RE the patriarch of this household!

Mr. Pants:  Oh.  I see.  The old patriarch of this household card.

Me:  Yup.

We stare at each other real hard until one of us crumbles.  It's usually the person whose turn it really is.

The one praying always rolls the eyes and sighs heavily before beginning, just to let the other know... 

Then we hold hands and pray.

We pray for kind of a long time.  We have a lot to be thankful for. 

We also have a lot of requests for blessings, pretty please with a cherry on top.  Blessings on our children, home, parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, leaders of the church, political leaders, hungry people, sad people, angry people and confused people.

I like praying with my husband.  I even sorta like the mini battle every night of our lives.

Perhaps, however, from now on we should have a system. 

He will pray the even days.  'Cause he is even-tempered.

I will pray the odd days.  'Cause I am odd.

`Romance In The Time of Cholera

I am reading Love In a Time of Cholera as Nickelodeon blares it's latest tween show in my irritated ear.

The kids are climbing all over me.  Tyson is launching Legos across the table to see how far they go.  Maya is snuggling at my feet.  The dog is snoring and passing gas. Yet amid all this, I am engrossed in Love.

All of me is throbbing as a result of this fairly naughty book. My heart beats a bit more rapidly than what would be considered respectable.

 I really should cease reading it.  I certainly won't watch the major motion picture! I have no desire to witness first hand the major motion of various vital body parts of unknown actors in said picture.  No sir!  Not me.

Reading the book is somewhat graphic.  I admit. The story is so compelling I must see it through!

But don't worry,  I use the little black censor bars in my imagination so as to lend a degree of modesty to the lovers.   I have no intention on dwelling on the male apparatus of a stranger, even a fictional one.  Female parts, strange or no, have no effect on me so they remain uncensored in my brain.

I am being slightly naughty in continuing to read but...

Oh... but the romance.... ahhhhh the romance has me spinning. My heart is full with pain and love.

She falls in love.  He loves her true.  They love in secret.  Yes, they do.  For years they write notes of passion. They are to marry, a reckless union.  Then She looks him in the eye one day and realizes... *gasp* She does not love him. It was all an illusion! So she marries another.  The devastated lover is sick and pale with grief.  He lives his life in the hope of having her one day again...

When my husband sees me engrossed in my book of friends he says, "Now, don't you go falling in love with one of them romantic guys in your book."


"You're silly,"  I say... "YOU are far more romantic than the goofballs in this book... but... if I had married someone else... instead of you...if I had dumped you and married someone else.... would you have waited for me?  Would you love me forever?  Would you have lived every moment waiting for a chance to have me back?"


"Of course I would, baby!" he says.  "You are the only one for me.  There is no one else."


"What if I died?  How long til you found another wife?  You hate to sleep alone..."


"You're starting to hurt my feelings with these questions.  I would NEVER, EVER want another woman but you.  No other woman could even compare to you."


"Yeah... I don't know... I can just see your mom waiting a good 4 months out of respect for the dead and then setting you up with a nice, smiley, plump, good cook, Mormon spinster....  The children would need a mother, you know.  She'll probably be super cheerful all the time.  A little ray of sunshine.  THEN maybe you'll be happy!" 


 I feel sick.  I feel sad.  BETRAYED!  Tears fill my eyes.  He already has a plump Mormon housewife waiting for me to DIE!  I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS CRAP!  AFTER ALL I HAVE SACRIFICED!  I HAVE DEVOTED MY LIFE TO THIS MAN AND HIS CHILDREN AND NOW LOOK!...


At this point my husband is terrified.  Confused.

"I don't know what to do when you get like this," he says.

"YOU CAN START BY DUMPING THAT SMILEY MORMON WHORE YOU WANT TO MARRY SO BADLY!"


Now I'm crying.  Sorta.


My man softens and soothes me with lots of words.  Words including "baby"  "I would never"  "you're the only"  "I love you"  after several more "babies" I am feeling slightly better but still shaken.

 Love is so very painful.  Is it not?  It is.

Love aches and hurts and causes me to throb in the best/worst possible way.

Love can destroy an individual.

Love is the only thing that truly matters in this dark and dreary wilderness.

Without Love in all it's forms I am lost.  It is the breath in me.

I breath my Love on those closest and most of them are filled to capacity.  Filling others with love is a passion I enjoy.  It is a service I render.

Does that kind of love exist in reality?  Like in the book?  Would a man possibly remain in love with a woman he cannot have for the length of his life in the hopes that in old age he would have her again?

Do people really not get remarried after a spouse dies at a young age?

Do such romantics exist in the world?

I hope so.

Would You Hold Me While I Cry? -and other moronic requests.

Would you hold me while I cry?


UGH! THE VERY WORDS MAKE MY STOMACH HURT! Seriously.  The idea of ever uttering these words to another human soul literally makes my chest tighten and heart race and teeth clench.

WOULD YOU HOLD ME???? WHILE I CRYYYY???

*shudders*

Gross.

STUPID!

Hello.  My name is Crystal Pistol and I am an Avoider.

(To break it down further I am An Avoider in my marriage and A Pleaser in my original family.  In short, I'm a hot mess.)

According to the self-help book I am reading at the moment, I am An Avoider.

I avoid emotion.  I prefer to be calm and collected.  Self-sufficient.  Independent.  I revel in alone time.  I don't talk about feelings.  I avoid sappy people and situations whenever possible.  They make me uncomfortable.

The book is entitled How We Love by Milan and Kay Yerkovich.

I hate this book.  I want to throw it at the wall!

HOW DARE THOSE KNOW-IT-ALL AUTHORS PEEK INTO MY SOUL AND EXPOSE ME SO!!  HOW DARE THEY MAKE ME VULNERABLE BY SUGGESTING I CHANGE IN ANY WAY!!!  DARN THEM!  DARN THEM TO HECK! GOSH DARN IT!

The book also (wrongly) suggests that I resort to anger rather than allowing myself to feel sadness or pain.  WHATEVER!!

Other Love Styles discussed include:

The Pleaser
The Vacillator
The Choatic (both Controller and Victim)

All of these Love Styles are unhealthy.  Awful, really.  Chances are you probably fit one of the descriptions.

My being An Avoider is my parent's fault.  And their parent's fault before them.  So says How We Love.


The faulty way in which YOU love is YOUR parent's fault.  And when your children grow up their relationship issues will stem back to YOUR relationship issues.

Awesome, right?

The question I pose to you is Does ANYBODY do it right?


Have you ever ACTUALLY met someone that has Love figured out?

I'd like to shake her hand.

I don't want you to get the wrong idea here.  I don't want you to think I am reading this book because my marriage isn't PERFECT.  Don't be ridiculous.  OF COURSE MY MARRIAGE IS PERFECT!  Isn't yours?

Back to me:

I'm so disillusioned.  All this time I thought I was the ideal wifey!  I thought my lack of nagging and confrontation and peaceful demeanor and wicked sense of humor made me the most blameless/wonderful spouse/daughter/mother/friend in the land.

I admit I have a lot of work to do...  (That book really stressed me out tonight, man.)

But I will NEVER, EVER, EVER utter the pathetic phrase,

 Would you hold me while I cry?


I have no problem holding you while YOU cry.  Cry away.  Cry yourself a river.  Wah wah wah crybaby cry...  Just kidding.  I am very sensitive when no one actually wants ME to be gooey and emo.

On the flip side I will be happy to avoid any further mention of feelings by posting pictures that are in no way emotional.

Here I am with scarecrows in my arms and a scary apparition floating behind me.  Booo!

Here I am sexy possesed with my eyes rolled back in my Avoider face.  Serena is happy and silly and wearing my sweatpants and holding my red phone in order to text her friends because I believe she is too young for a phone of her own which necessarily makes me the lamest mom on the planet.

Pumpkin on my head.

More fun with pumpkins.  Pumpkins help me avoid the issues in my hollow heart.

Bella tossing ham with glee.

Actively avoiding my deeply repressed feelings through music.  Drowns out the empty Pain of my bleeding soul I am too terrified to face.

I'd Rip Her Face Off

There sure are a lot of men on this planit...
But you're The Only One for me, dammit.


Today is my husband's birthday.  The above poem is for him.  It's a card. Do you love it?  Thanks.

I hope Hallmark doesn't go plagiarizing my work.  (I wrote him a mushy gooshey one too but that one is PRIVATE.  This one is PUBLIC.)

Because it is my husband's birthday I have decided to put myself in his shoes for a change.  Men's shoes are rarely flattering.  I avoid them usually.  Not today.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONEY!!!!" I shouted into the phone at 8am this morning.  "I LOVE YOU SOOOO MUCH!  I'M SO LUCKY YOU'RE MY MAN!!"

We exchanged words and Loves and verbal cuddles.

Then he said,

"So I was lookin for That Guy at the gym today.  Me and Mike were trying to figure out who he is.  When I see him I'm going to chuck 45 lbs plates at his head like frisbees..."


In case you missed it, Some Dude hit on me on Saturday.  I haven't given it much thought since.  My man has though. He wants to KILL Some Dude.  Four days later he STILL has fantasies of dismembering The Guy.

"I'm going to start asking my buddies who were there that day to tell me who he is..."


"Honey, you are really obsessing about this.  Who cares who he is?  I probably wouldn't even recognize him if I saw him again. He was nobody. Please don't start asking around.  I'll be so embarrassed."


I could tell he was frustrated when we got off the phone.


So I put myself in his shoes.

This is a rare occasion.  Savor it.  It may never happen again...

*ahem*


If Some Chick hit on my man in such a blatant manner I'D FREAKING HUNT THE WHORE DOWN AND TEAR HER LIMB FROM LIMB!


Yup.  I'M GETTIN ALL RILED JUST THINKIN' ABOUT HER!!! HOW DARE SHE!!!  I HAVE EARNED HIM FAIR AND SQUARE!!!!


I'd find her at her place of work.

I'd find at her Stripper Pole and END THAT SHOW!  


I'd be all like,

"HEY!  WHORE OF ALL THE EARTH, WHY YOU TALKIN' TO MY MAN?!"


As soon as she opened her slutty mouth to speak I'd grab her by the throat and pull her extensions out one by one.

I'd bite her eye.

I'd scalp her with my fingernails.

I'd slap her face real hard several times.

I'd pop her fake boobs with a fork. POP! they would say... as they deflated slowly... or quickly... I don't know how that would go exactly.  But she'd be sans boobs.  BOOBLESS!  Flat as the day she was born.

So... I suppose I can't fault my man too much for being upset and a bit jealous and totally possessive.

I belong to that guy I married.  I am HIS.  He is MINE.  That's how we roll.

I'd be offended now if he DIDN'T get all crazy in the head when Dudes hit on me.

When we are 98 years old and an 88 year old Dude smiles at me from across the Bingo table, I fully expect Mr. Pistol to knock is damn dentures out.


So here's my poem once again for the Love of my life...


There sure are a lot of men on this planit...
But you're The Only One for me, dammit.


Happy Birthday, Baby.

Wisconsin or Bust

Happy Day!  Wonderful wonderful news, my friends!

I will be hopping a plane to WISCONSIN on Thanksgiving Weekend!!  YES! It is so very fun to say WIZZZZ COONNN SIIINNN!  The following pic was taken in the magical land of Wisconsin.  Lovely, ain't it.

What else is fun to say is Milwaukee.  It's spelled super weird.  Don't know what the Wisconsinites were thinking there but it's way fun to say.

Try it.  Try it with me.  MIILLL  WAAAAAAAAAHHH KEYYYYYY.    WAAAH KEEYY.

Fun, no?  Yes.

I am going to the land of cheese and cows because MY SISTER IS GETTING MARRIED!!!! In Wisconsin.  To a homegrown boy from Wisconsin.  YAAAAAAY HOOOOOO!  below is a Wisconsin dairy farm.  I wouldn't mind living on one of those.  I like cows.  And cheese. And dairy.  And farm.

She met a charming young man who hails from this place called Wisconsin.  He is a salt of the earth type of dude.  Give the shirt off his back,  Knows the difference between right and wrong,  Loves my sister and her four monkies.  He builds ornate book shelves as gifts for Coral out of wood scraps from the garage.  He's a scrapper, this Ray.  I'm happy to have him aboard.

It will probably be chilly at Thanksgiving in Wisconsin.   What ever should I WEAR??

What is the fashion in Milwaukee, anyway?  I may have to do some research.  Maybe I'll just pack lots of flannel shirts and long johns and Ugg boots.

I asked my sister today about the wedding colors.

"What are the wedding colors?" I asked

"I'm thinking a winter wonderland of white and creme and white Christmas trees for decoration..."


"So you want me to wear white?  I can't wear white...  Would I wear creme?  Even that seems too close to Bride."


"You are a very rude jerk.  You can't wear white to MY WEDDING.  You are RUDE. SO RUDE."


"Fine.  What would you have me wear, oh queen of taffeta and lace?'


"Black.  Wear black."


"Like a funeral outfit?  You're just being a ridiculous jerk now.  I won't have it.  What COLOR?  I must plan and save my pennies."


"Lime green.  You can wear lime green.  It will look lovely..."


"I WILL LOOK THE FOOL!  I AM NOT YOUR FOOL!  I RESENT THIS LIME GREEN AFFRONT.  I'LL NOT BE YOUR LIME GREEN JESTER..."


"Okay..*sighs* .... I'll have to think about it.  I love you.  We'll talk soon," she says with a hug hug kiss kiss.

How I love my sister!  She is the only person on this planet with whom I can completely be myself without fear of judgement or insecurity or jealousy or any such nonsense.

Coral has suffered as a single mother for two cold and empty years,  She deserves the Love she now has.

The world of the singles can be a sad sad wasteland of the lonely and the lost.  I worried so much when she was in that land of confusion and games.


I hug our new man.  I am grateful for him for her.

Ray.  Soon to be Mr. Coral.

He grins like a Cheshire cat.  He is so happy my parents have met and accepted him.  He will marry the woman he loves... in the land where cheese flows freely... and cows speak french and wear sensible shoes.

I hug that Ray.

"I love you too...now," I smile.

"Now?" he chuckles.

"Yup.  It's official.  Love ya!"


I do love the guy.  He makes my little sister happy.  He knows she has four children.  Although he has never been married nor sired a child  he is more than elated to take on the added responsibility of an insta-family.

He's a stand up guy, that Ray.

Serisously though, what should I WEAR?  Right off the bat I'm going to have to lose 5 lbs as standard procedure for preparing for your sister's wedding....

I can't WAIT to plan this all out.

I can't wait to meet Wisconsin and have Wisconsin meet me!

Do you have any tips regarding what I should or shouldn't wear/do/say whilst in Wisconsin?  I'm ready to when in Rome...

PS Here is a pic of Tommy, Me, Coral and Ray.  (Tommy is Coral's best friend.)

Honeymoon Sexy Time

Dear Crystal, I thought of a question for you. What were the three happiest days of your life? Now, if you just want to do one or two days that would be fine. Love, Belle.


Great question, Belle!  And thank you so very, very much for humoring me and thinking of a good Q.  :) 




I could get all sappy and lovey and dovey and tell you the FIVE best days of my life, hands down, are the day I got married and the day each of my babies was born.  This would be a true statement.  I loved every second of those days.  Every woman loves to prance around in a fluffy wedding gown and secure the man she loves with a ball and chain for time and all eternity...


In addition,  I would give birth EVERYDAY if it were possible.  It's so exciting with the pushing and screaming and legs you can't feel and the great miracle that occurs...in that my husband doesn't pass out from all the blood and fingers and humans going into and out of the orifice he deems his personal property... Seriously though, I loved EVERY SECOND.  No lie.


I would write about those wonderful days to which there is no Earthly parallel.


But I'm feelin' feisty.


So I'll talk about my sixth happiest day EVER.


DAY ONE OF THE HONEYMOON.


When my husband and I were dating we could have made one of those Mormon commercials.  You know the ones...


I would have smiled at the camera with bright, frantic eyes and said, 


"I am a healthy 20 year old and insanely attracted to this man here. I even love him and everything. I go to Brigham Young University.  I am a dancer and an International Marketing major.  I am not having sex.... And I am a Mormon.


And since we behaved ourselves (for the most part) so that we could get married in The Temple and please God and our parents and answer all the interview questions in the affirmative we got engaged precisely 2 months after we met and were married four LONG months after that.


We honeymooned in Hawaii.  The airline morons lost our luggage.  We didn't mind.  There was very little need for clothing.


I won't regale you with explicit details.  None of your beeswax, is what. ;)


I vividly remembering being pleased everything functioned properly.  I vividly remember the wildly unencumbered feeling of knowing I had MADE IT! I would NOT, in fact, go to hell as I had previously supposed. Sex was suddenly okay!  In fact, I was REQUIRED to do It!  Happy happy day!  OH Joy to the World!  I would not have to confess my dirty deeds.  I was FREE.


I vividly remember being satisfied.  Utter and completely satisfied. ;)


I know abstinence is considered old-fashioned and unheard of in the majority of the world.  I have had people say things like,


 "You Mormons are brave!  You gotta test drive that stuff before you buy it! He he."


or


"What if you are not compatible sexually?  What if it SUCKS?  Then your STUCK."


I don't feel like dignifying those questions with an answer, except to point it that it takes two to tango so if it sucks....  I only wish to point out the philosophies of our day.


I LOVE that we waited.  It wasn't fun then...  The anticipation. Torture, actually.  If you try stabbing your own eyeballs out with a spoon or chewing glass... well... that's what it was like, waiting.


I can't imagine what it would be like to get married and not have sex be all new and exciting like a opening a gift on Christmas morning.  Except a millions times better.


I, of course, don't negatively judge people who fornicate. :)  Everybody's doin' it. (No pun intended.)  I just don't know a different way than how I did it.  I'm partial to my own experiences, you understand...


In my feeble mind there is something to be said for self-control and respecting The Powers of Procreation rather than treating them like Powers Of Recreation With The Slut You Met At The Bar Last Night or Powers of Recreation With That Hot Dude Who Will Never Call Now.   


My brother once said, "The greatest lie society subscribes to is the idea that casual sex is not damaging."


So wise.  Sage, even.  And he's not even Mormon!  In fact, he thinks we are WEIRD.  He just celebrated 10 years of happy marriage to his high school sweet heart.  


I am teaching my own children and anyone's children who will listen to torture themselves in like manner.  It's healthy on so many levels.


Suffice it to say, we went back to Hawaii on our 10 year wedding anniversary to see the island for the first time... That was four years ago.  Things are still pretty hot around here so we'll try visiting the Aloha State again in another ten...  I hear it's beautiful.


NEXT QUESTION...???

Dont Call Me Sexy!

Sexy.

That's what my husband called me.  RIGHT TO MY FACE!  I'm pissed.

I'll catch you up.

My sis, Coral, texted the other day.

~Describe me in one word.

My reply?

~Loved.  You are so Loved.  Do me now.

~Open. 

I said she was Loved and she described me as Open.  I felt all warm and fuzzy inside my heart, so I thought I would play the game with Mr. Pistol.

"Hey, Honey?"

"Yeah."

"Describe me in one word."

"Sexy."

He didn't skip A BEAT!  No thought involved AT ALL!  CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS CRAP?!

So I said (all cute and pouty-like),

"Noooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN'T be just sexy!"

His eyes got all squinty and confused.  He actually looked away from the TV and directly at me.

"Why?"

"Will I be sexy when I'm 80 and my boobs hang down to my knees??"

Ooooo trick question.  Let's see how he handles it, shall we?

"Ummm... yes?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wrong answer!"

He scratched his head.

"No?"

"NO.  I asked you to pick one word that would describe ME.  ME as a PERSON! ME as an INDIVIDUAL WITH INTELLIGENCE!  ME as an ETERNAL ENTITY WITH ENDLESS POTENTIAL! And the only word you could come with is SEXY?"

"I didn't realize...."

"Well yeah, I know, cause to MEN sexy is all that matters!  Sure, I'm sexy as hell NOW, but what about the aging process?  Huh?  If my word is SEXY than what will I be when sexy is GONE?"

"Uhhh..."

"NOTHING.  I'll be nothing.  A has-been who was SuperSexy Once Upon A Time.  And you'll say, 'Remember when you were Sexy?' "

"Can I change my answer?"

"Good idea."

"Complex."

"I don't know if I like that answer either."

"I have a headache."

I can't imagine why.

PS  Can you tell I used to be a serious dancer?  I still am.  I gotz mad skillz, yo.

Ok.  So.  Describe me in one word.  Be nice.

I'll start.

Narcissistic.

Now that THAT'S outta the way it's your turn. 

Let's talk about YOU.  What do YOU think about ME?

Hmmmm?