Based on true events

I passed my pedi test today, a test I should have probably failed! If not for wonderful savior friend C I would have had scant to go on. She saved my butt. Now I only need a 58 on the final to pass the class with a 75 but since we all know how incredibly brilliant I secretly am I should be able to pass with a B. Here's hopin'.

In other news, I am officially tired of having pets. Is that awful to say? Oh well, it's my blog so I can say it. It's not that I really love them less now that I have a real baby, but I do love them differently. I want to spend so much time with Avelyn, and I'm so focused on her or keeping myself sane that I just tire of the animals very easily. I'm tired of Etta having to sleep on the bed because she'll pee and poop on the floor if left unattended. I'm tired of her jumping down at 3am every night and doing just that. I'm tired of stepping in pee, picking up poop on the stairs, timing when she eats so she can have her medicine on schedule, shoving the handful of pills down her throat 20 times until she swallows them, listening to her whine because the meds make her want to eat all damn day. Ugh. I know how awful this sounds. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she's better and she's still my dog but man, having Avelyn really put it into perspective for me. Am I the only terrible pet owner out there? In the past I might have been insulted had someone uttered the words, "It's just a dog" but now... well, she's just a dog. I love her, she is sweet and she's mine and I'll be sad when she goes one day but do I tear up and have a panic attack thinking about my life without her? No. Am I the only woman who went from doting on a cute puppy and an evil cat to wishing they would go live with Kevin in San Antonio so I didn't have to constantly clean up after them, yell at them to get off the baby's blanket and not to lick her mouth? Honestly I just don't have the time. Not that I have a full plate or anything... it feels good to get that load off.

Today at school a few of us old married ladies (and one super cute soon to be married lady) sat around and had a grand time commiserating the stupidity of husbands. It was just what the doctor ordered. Sometimes I think we women just need to hear that we're not alone, that 99% of other wives are living with an oaf too. (Love you, Babe, remember that). Here is a rundown of the top list of complaints, in no particular order:

Dear Husband,

• You're not 4 and I ain't your Momma, so instead of throwing them on the floor for me to find, seethe about and eventually pick up while cursing your name, why don't you put your own dirty clothes in the basket when you take them off.
• The dishwasher is 6 inches away from the sink. That's where dirty dishes go.
• You know when I said, "okay I have to study so please don't distract me"? I MEANT IT! SHUT UP! Think of me studying as you watching football, only important.
• Yes, you are right. The floor will just get dirty again but it has to be cleaned and newsflash - I got the vacuum in black and the Swiffer in green so it's manly enough for you to use it. Also, when we have/since we have small ones it has to be cleaned every day because small ones roll/crawl/pick up everything on the floor so let's not give 'em anything to pick up.
• Uh, unless I sleepshave those little hairs all over the bathroom counter are yours and while we're at it is it too much to ask that you wipe the water off the counter so I don't get that sopping horizontal line across my crotch?
• I have been working for the last twelve hours at the hospital. I started before the sun came up and left after it went down. I only get a 30 minute lunch break and my sandwich was soggy from the fridge. My feet look like hooves. Did you seriously just ask me what we're having for dinner?
  
• Oh yeah and just so you know, at the end of the day when you start breathing down my neck and feeling me up and I say "I'm just really tired" it literally means "I'm (in no way JUST) really tired". It can also mean "I've been felt up by kids all day and need some 'nobody touch me' time" or "I recently pushed a baby out of there and now I don't know where anything is anymore" or it could mean "I'll sleep with you when you throw your own underwear in the wash, do the dishes, turn off the TV when I need you to, pick up and sweep the floor, wipe down all the counters and cook us dinner. All on your own. Without me asking or telling. Or congratulating you. I do it day in and day out without accolade so I know it's not an insane request.
  

I would just like to follow with this notice:

This is not MY list, it is a compilation. It is not about MY husband, it is about the husband collective. This post may pertain to you or someone you know but is in no way directed toward any specific person.

Ladies, care to comment? Or gentlemen, I believe in free speech and equality.

For the ladies who know who they are...

[JAR: Today in JAR Jennifer got a 100 on her pedi test. When the "100! You are AWESOME" popped up on the screen confetti and balloons fell from the ceiling and a mariachi band played. She was carried out on a chair, high in the air while the crowd sang "For she's a jolly good fella..." Afterward it was announced on loud speaker that OB was canceled for the rest of the semester and in it's place would be margarita happy hour every week from 1-4pm. As if that wasn't enough it would also be all you can eat guacamole and hot pretzels! And chocolate ice cream! And Laffy Taffy... oops I digress. After indulging herself Jennifer returned home to find Avelyn sitting in the middle of the floor reading Dostoevsky and demanding tea and crumpets. She smiled, closed the door and hugged her 96 pound baby.]