Drop Everything and Watch This

Now excuse me while I go find the kleenex.

Hey Husband, I love you.

Danny & Annie from StoryCorps on Vimeo.

Murphy's Law

Normally I am an optimistic person - sometimes to the point of being obnoxiously perky, or so I've been told - but the past few days have made a dent in my usually sunny disposition. I have an unbelievable amount of schoolwork to do but I don't think I'll be able to focus until I get the events of the past few days off my chest and written down here where they damn well better stay!

Tuesday night husband made dinner and helped the kids with their homework so I could study for a final exam in my history class on Wednesday morning. I studied my BUTT off (I wish) and went into class at 8:45am on Wednesday feeling prepared and even a little cocky. (That's probably what set Murphy's Law into action - I was too damn sure of myself.) When everyone else started putting a sheet of paper on the desk at the front of the classroom it hit me, WE HAD AN ASSIGNMENT DUE TOO! I didn't not understand the assignment, run out of time to finish it or simply blow it off - I totally and completely forgot about it. I have never EVER done that! At least not since I've been in college, I'm sure I forgot about assignments all the time in high school but that was a long time ago when I was young and stupid so it doesn't count.

So after finishing the final I went to the library, did the assignment that I had totally and completely spaced out and emailed it to my professor. She gives everyone one "freebie" each quarter to email an assignment rather than give her a hard copy but it is still late so I won't get full credit. Damn.

Then Scientist Genius Brother emails me asking for the email with the confirmation number on it so he and Daughter can get their tickets at the airport when they leave on their trip. I look through my emails and I don't have it so I tell him that HE must have it. He sends another message that no, he doesn't have it. So I call Qantas Airlines to find out what happened. With no confirmation number the guy - who I had a tough time understanding because of his sexy Australian accent - searches by the flight number which I wrote down when I bought the tickets. There is NO SUCH FLIGHT NUMBER. My heart starts to pound and I stutter incoherently into the phone.

Keep in mind this entire phone conversation is taking place while I am in the commons at school. Not exactly a quiet place to concentrate on getting very important information.

The very sexy voice asks if I have the credit card I bought the tickets with so he can search using the card number. (I bought the tickets because Scientist Genius Brother couldn't figure out the Qantas website - he is the stereotypical absent minded professor!) That I do have so I give it to the sexy voice, my heart in my throat. He finds the reservations and casually mentions that the reason that flight number doesn't exist is because it was cancelled.

I almost puke.

Then he continues on to tell me that their itinerary has been changed due to the flight being canceled but they still leave San Francisco and arrive in Melbourne - sharks with frickin' lasers! - at about the same time. My heart and stomach go back where they belong and I resume breathing. Apparently they sent the confirmation email to Scientist Genius Brother but they had the email wrong so he never got it. I give the correct address to sexy voice and he assures me that the confirmation email will be re-sent. So I call the Genius and tell him to let me know the minute he gets the email.

Then he reminds me that I need to get an ETA visitor Visa for Daughter. Its very simple, just filling out a form online and getting a confirmation number. They just need her name, info, passport number and all that other stuff. So after my second class, picking up Thing 2 from school and Daughter from dance practice, I go into my office to get her passport so I can fill out the ETA Visa form.

Her passport is not with all the other passports in the safe designated place for important papers that I need to grab if the house is on fire.

Heart and stomach immediately start leaping around inside my body.

"I CAN'T FIND YOUR PASSPORT!!! ARRRRGGGGHHHH" (I scream while tossing papers all over my desk.)

"Oh, I know where it is. I'll go grab it." She saunters nonchalantly up the stairs.

WTF is her passport doing upstairs and not with all the important papers WHERE IT BELONGS? I'm a bit wild by now from the several adrenaline rushes I've experienced but I manage to calm down and straighten up my desk while Daughter brings me her passport.

I have to interject here that I purchased the tickets for this trip on May 18th of this year. When I bought them I checked her passports expiration date and it said June 2010. No problem.

When she hands me her passport I open it up and the expiration date is June 2009. As in almost six months ago. They leave in three and a half weeks. Obviously I have fucked up to the n-th degree. I don't even get the satisfaction of going off on anyone because it is my own fault. Of course that doesn't stop me from screaming at husband (who is upstairs cooking dinner after working all day - yes he is the best husband on the planet and no you can't have him) "OH MY GOD HER PASSPORT IS EXPIRED WHAT AM I GOING TO DO OMG OMG OMG..."

He comes downstairs, peels me off the ceiling and calms me down enough to look on the state department's website to see how fast we can get a new passport for her. Expedited is 2-3 weeks. Too close for my comfort even with overnight return mail but we don't have a choice because you can't get a same day passport at the regional offices unless your trip is less than 14 days away.

Husband drops everything to take Daughter to Costco and get passport pictures and I start to get ready for that night's 7pm monthly meeting of the high school parent group that I am co-president of. I'm getting my stuff together and realize I'm missing a check for $250 that was donated to us by a very generous ex-member and parent. Back to panic mode. I have visions of having to call this person, thank her for the extremely generous gift and then ask if we can have another check because I am such a moron that I lost the first one she gave us.

My last ditch thought is maybe it is in my car. SHIT! Husband and daughter took the car that I was driving the last time I picked up parent group paperwork at the school! So I call Husband, he looks in the back seat and sure enough, the check is there. I can't bring it with me to the meeting because I have to leave now but at least I know where it is.

I was an absolute WRECK at the meeting but nothing went terribly wrong and when I got home the kitchen was clean, Daughters passport photos were on the counter waiting for us to go to the passport office on Thursday and the kids were all ready for bed. I drank a glass of wine and went to bed thinking thank GOD that day was over.

But Murphy wasn't done with me yet.

to be continued...

My Christmas Wish List

Husband is bugging me about what I want for Christmas and our Anniversary (it's on New Year's Eve) this year so I decided to make a list for him.  It got a little ridiculous so I thought I'd share my particular brand of crazy with all of you.  Plus it means I can put off going to the dreaded grocery store a few minutes more.

1.  A romantic weekend away that I don't have to plan, arrange for the kids to have supervision and make sure someone takes care of Grandmother.  It would be lovely to pack only for myself and walk out the door with no other fussing or preparation.  And I want it to be a surprise so stop asking me where I want to go!

2.  A flat screen television for our bedroom so I can decorate without having to work around a gigantic gray box.

3.  A magic pill to remove the extra 30 pounds I'm carrying around but am too lazy to actually exercise away.  Bonus points if the pill is permanent no matter how many Christmas cookies I eat.

4.  An automatic tennis ball thrower.  The dog is driving me batshit crazy by dropping slobber covered tennis balls into my lap every time I sit down.  I keep hiding them but she finds more!  She's a magic tennis ball conjuring dog!

5.  Mute buttons for the children.  I promise not to mute them more than 2 hours a day.

6.  Thicker hair.  Curly too.  Actually, just switch my hair with daughter's and we'll both be thrilled.

7.  A bachelor's degree in American Studies and a master's degree in education.  Four more years of college is such a drag!

8.  A private jet and pilot so I can fly to Vegas every time Jeff Renner starts freaking out about SNOW STORM 2008 *dum-dum-dum-duuuum*.  (At least it's coming on a Friday night this time so the kids won't miss any school.)

9.  Walk in closets.  But I don't want to move or remodel again *shudder* so do it with your magic construction powers.  And don't get sheetrock dust all over my clothes while you're doing it.

10.  Children that don't fight but instead love and help each other.  (Stop laughing)

That's about it honey.  Thanks for asking!

Two Cultures, One Marriage

Husband and I grew up in two different countries with vastly different cultures. English is his second language (out of three) while I don't speak anything else. He grew up in Iran in a Muslim household, I grew up in a secular household here in the States. He left home for a new life on the other side of the planet when he was only 16. I have lived in the same state since I was 5 years old and as an adult was always within a 25 minute drive of both my parents until two years ago when my Dad & Stepmonster moved to Vegas. Husband's father was an entrepreneur and his mother was a housewife while my parents have always worked as employees of large-ish companies. He grew up poor in a third-world country while I was middle-class in the richest country in the world. All these differences plus the fact that he is 13 years older than me and we married when I was only 19 meant a lot of obstacles to overcome for us to have a successful marriage.

My Mom says now that I was always a good judge of character, others tell me that it was pure dumb luck that our marriage has been so successful. I think it's more a combination of the two along with lots of patience and hard work on both of our parts. The toughest part has been reconciling our two very different cultures into one household.

We both decided long ago that organized religion makes people (mostly) crazy so the whole religion thing is totally not an issue in our relationship. Neither of us practice any formal religion at all. In case you were wondering. Which you were. Cause of the Islam thing. Just letting you know there's no crazies here.

Our kids all have Persian names. I never considered anything else because they are American kids even though they are half Iranian. Their names are the one part of them that reminds them of their other, more hidden, heritage. They know a little bit of Farsi thanks to their Grandmother's four and a half month visit last year and their father's occasional use of the more, um, colorful bits of the language. (We can all swear fluently in Farsi!) We celebrate all the holidays I grew up with like Christmas and the 4th of July along with Norooz and Shab-e-Yalda, two holidays husband grew up celebrating. I cook mainly Persian food, simply because I couldn't cook when we got married and husband taught me to cook many Persian dishes because that's what he knew how to cook. We also order pizza for dinner often enough to be as unhealthy as any other all-American household.

It was husband's suggestion for my grandmother to live with us. In Iran, this is simply The Way Things Are Done. (The fact that my Grandmother is a rockin' 92 year old sarcastic smartass doesn't hurt either - husband loves her!) Our multi-generational household is much more typically Iranian than American and has many benefits for us, our children and my Grandmother.

Husband is a risk taker when it comes to things like starting businesses and buying real estate. He has a true entrepreneur's heart and worked 24/7 when I met him. For Iranians, this is also The Way Things Are Done. If you want to get ahead - or simply survive - in Iran, you work hard at often 2 or 3 jobs and if you aren't willing to take a risk like start a business or buy real estate then you will have nothing to retire with. Not nothing except Social Security but NOTHING nothing.

I was used to a family where parents went to work from 8-4 Monday thru Friday and were home on Saturday & Sunday. They had paid vacations, health insurance, got a paycheck on Fridays and a free turkey for Thanksgiving and Christmas. My parents could indulge in some of their hobbies and had free time everyday when they could sit down to read a book, watch a television show or play Uno with my brother and I. We weren't rich by American standards and the 80's were not a decade of prosperity for our family but compared to husband's family growing up, we were fabulously wealthy.

We have finally settled on, and are both happy with, a 6 day work-week for for husband about 85% of the time. That isn't carved in stone however - we are after all, self-employed - so sometimes he's swamped and works 7 days a week but other times it's slow and he's home by 2pm every day for a week or 2. Luckily the slow times usually fall in the winter. I don't ski or snowboard, so he'll take whichever of our offspring are interested up to the pass to freeze their asses off in the snow. (They say it's fun but I don't believe them.) Plus he's usually available for Christmas shopping while I am freaking out about my final exams.

We have made our own traditions and celebrations. It's a pretty bizarre smorgasboard of what we both grew up with sprinkled with our adult viewpoints and opinions but we're happy and have reached a balance between what is his and mine - now it is ours.

Our 15th anniversary is on December 31, 2008 and I love him more now than I did the day we married. We have made it work against all odds and have created a partnership that is the backbone of our family. And we laugh every day. I'm one lucky-ass woman.